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Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

Acts 4:32-37

Dr. Jim Denison

It was his first day on the job. He was a new clerk in the produce department of a super market. A lady came up to him and said that she wanted to buy half a head of lettuce. He tried to talk her out of this, but she persisted. Finally he said, “I’ll have to go back and talk to the manager.”

He went to the rear of the store, not noticing that the woman was walking right behind him. He found the manager and said, “There’s some stupid old bag out there who wants to buy half a head of lettuce. What should I tell her?”

Seeing the horrified look on the face of the manager, he turned around and, seeing the woman, added, “And this nice lady wants to buy the other half of the head of lettuce. Will that be all right?” The relieved manager said, “That would be fine.”

Later in the day, he congratulated the boy on his quick thinking. Then he asked, “Where are you from, son?” The boy said, “I’m from Toronto, Canada, the home of beautiful hockey players and ugly women.” The manager looked at him and said, “My wife is from Toronto.” The boy said, “Oh, what team did she play for?”

Don’t you wish we could solve our relational problems that easily? Unfortunately, most of us cannot. Loneliness is an epidemic in our country today. We see it in the alcohol and drug abuse rates; the suicides; the fact that the number of unmarried couples living together has increased 800% in recent years; the popularity of New Age and alternative spiritual movements; the mushrooming number of chat rooms on the Internet. We are lonely people.

Remember the television show Cheers, about a bar in Boston? The opening lyrics had it right: You want to be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You want to be where everybody knows your name. Where you can belong, no matter who you are or what you’ve done. Where everybody knows your name. Wouldn’t you like to be part of a group like that? Who wouldn’t?

Outside of television, there’s only one such place. Luke, the author of our text, would like to take us there. Let’s go with him and see if what we discover helps us today.

Where everybody knows your name and your need

As we go in, Luke makes an amazing claim for these people: “All the believers are one in heart and mind” (v. 32a). “All the believers,” he says. Now remember, there are more than 5,000 in this church. And they’ve come from everywhere—Jews and Gentiles, slaves and free, male and female, crossing every barrier of prejudice known to their world. If we were to walk in on a crowd of Jews and Arabs, blacks and KKK members, Yugoslavians and Albanians, we’d be in the same room.

Yet, he says they are “one in heart and mind.” United both in their emotions and their ideas, their feelings and their actions. Aristotle defined friendship as “a single soul dwelling in two bodies.” This is Luke’s claim for these people, here.

It sounds impossible, doesn’t it? But Luke proves it. “No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own” (v. 32b). “No one” is emphatic in Luke’s Greek: there are no exceptions to this rule. “They shared everything that they had” (v. 32c). Jews and Gentiles would not share the same food or even the same room; now they share everything.

The Greeks had a very common proverb: “Friends have all things in common.” These people fulfilled their ideal. And with this result: “There were no needy persons among them” (v. 34). None.

Here’s how this program of congregational ministry worked: People in the church were constantly on the lookout for others in need, so they might report this to the congregational leaders.

When such reports came in, the wealthier members of the church voluntarily responded. This was no Social Security tax or required contribution. On their own, they sold lands or houses and brought the entire amount of the sale to the church. This was an act of Christian charity and grace. The Roman Empire would certainly give them no tax advantages for their contributions.

They placed their money at the feet of the apostles, an act of legal transfer akin to signing over your title today. Then the church utilized a massive aid distribution system, to get the money to those in need. And this happened continually, not just occasionally or during times of special emphasis. This was a regular part of their congregational life.

Now, Luke knows we might be skeptical of such a description. So he invites us to meet someone whose credentials we can check: Joseph, named Barnabas. He’s taking part in this ministry, at enormous personal sacrifice. He is a Levite, thus a member of the priestly tribe of Israel, part of their aristocracy. This means that by law he can own no land in Palestine, for God had decreed that they were to live off the good will of the nation (Numbers 18:20; Deut. 10:9).

But he’s become a Christian, forfeiting all such support. He is something like a pastor living in a parsonage who leaves the church and has no home. His family has some property on the island of Cyprus, where he’s from. It is expensive land, rich and productive, and valuable for tourism as well—something like owning part of Honolulu. It is likely his only financial support and sustenance. But he sells it anyway, brings the money, and transfers it to the church for those in even greater need than himself.

As a result, he must work to support himself for the rest of his life and ministry (cf. 1 Cor. 9:6). He goes from personal wealth to poverty overnight. For this, the apostles nickname him “Barnabas,” which means “Son of Encouragement.” As indeed he is.

But he’s just one example of a church which cares about its people, and proves it by meeting their needs with sacrificial love. Is it any wonder that the community was impressed? That “the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus” with “great power,” and that “much grace was upon them all” (v. 33)?

Here’s a place where everybody knows your name, and even more, your need. And cares about you anyway. Wouldn’t you like to be part of a group like this?

Such a place still exists

Is it still possible, today? Can the church still be a place where everybody knows your name, and your need, and loves you as you are?

Gordon MacDonald was the well-known pastor of Grace Chapel in Boston when he had an affair. It was a single, sinful act. He confessed it immediately to his wife and to his church, and resigned from the ministry. But neither his wife nor his church would give up on him. They put him through years of counseling, accountability, and restoration. At the end, in 1988, they held a “Service of Restoration,” encouraging his return to ministry.

Eventually another church asked him to be their pastor. He wouldn’t go, but they said, “We’re broken people, and you’re a broken person, and we need each other.” And then, years later, Grace Chapel asked him to return as their pastor. That’s where he serves today. At a place where people know his name, and his need, and love him anyway. Is it any wonder that Grace Chapel is one of the most effective congregations in America?

The Brooklyn Tabernacle Church is a Book of Acts kind of congregation, made up of rich and poor, blacks, white, Latinos, people from everywhere. They are truly a remarkable family of faith.

Our church in Atlanta asked its pastor and some of the choir to lead in worship on a Friday night. During the evening they showed a taped interview with a man named Calvin. He was a drug user and dealer, living in a doghouse in an abandoned lot. One Tuesday night his wife went to the church to pray for her husband. Word got to the pastor, Jim Cymbala, and he asked all 2,000 present to pray for Calvin.

As he told the story on tape, Calvin felt compelled to climb out of that doghouse and get on a bus. When he got off, he was at the church. He walked in and heard 2,000 calling his name to God. That night he was saved and delivered.

Then the taped interview ended, and Calvin walked out on our worship platform and sang a solo. I’ll never forget it. All because of a church which knew his name, and his need, and loved him anyway. Is it any wonder Brooklyn Tabernacle has grown from 25 members to 7,000, with 23 missions and ministries around the world?

Saturday night’s evening news carried the story of an elderly couple in Albania, living in a small flat on their monthly pension checks, who have taken in twenty-six refugees from Kosovo. The refugees are Muslim, the elderly couple is Christian. When asked why they did this, the man said through the interpreter, “These people are our brothers. How could we turn them away?” One of the Muslim refugees called the man and woman “Our angels from God.”

He was right. Because God knows your name, and your need, and loves you as you are.

Conclusion

My brothers and sisters, it is absolutely crucial that we be that kind of place, in every way possible. This is what people are looking for today: someone who will know them, and accept them, and care for them. While they may have no interest in our preaching or our programs, they care whether our people care about them.

When we are a family to each other, and to our city, we can take Jesus’ love to hurting people everywhere. We can continue to plant the seeds of God’s love and word in the hearts of people we know, across this community. If we are a family like Luke’s church was a family.

How can we be even more a family like this? Some of us can be Barnabas today. You have money, or time, or abilities someone else needs. Ask God to show you how to invest them, to show you who needs them. Don’t claim that your possessions are your own, but share everything you have (v. 32). Find someone who needs you. You won’t have to look far.

And some of us need a Barnabas today. It’s hard enough to give sacrificially; it’s even harder to accept sacrifice from someone else. To be honest and authentic enough to admit that we’re hurting, that we’re lonely, that we are in need. Take the risk this week. Call someone you think you can trust, and be vulnerable. Ask someone else to be your Barnabas for a while.

We are the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:27). Therefore, God’s usual way of meeting our needs is through each other. And this is his usual way of meeting the needs of the people who live all around us, of proving his love to them.

Perhaps you need a spiritual Barnabas right now. Maybe you feel lost, or alone, or unwanted. You are wanted here. We are the family of God, the body of Christ. We will accept you, no matter where you’re from or what you’ve done—you have my word on it. We will love you, and help you. Just as God loves us, and helps us. Will you let us?

Milton Cunningham is the retiring chaplain at Baylor University, and a dear friend. Many years ago, when he was pastor of Westbury Baptist Church in Houston, he learned of a couple who wanted to join their church, but wished to speak with the pastor first. So he sat down with them.

The man began telling Dr. Cunningham the Sundays they’d be in attendance, the money they’d be giving, and the committees they’d serve on, and those they would not. Dr. Cunningham let him talk a while, then said, “I’m not sure you’d be happy at our church.” The man was shocked, as you might imagine, and asked, “Are you saying we can’t join your church?”

“No,” said Milton, “but we are a people who need each other. We get together on Sunday to find enough strength to make it to Wednesday, then we get together on Wednesday to find enough strength to make it to Sunday. We need each other. It doesn’t seem that you need us.”

The wife, who had been silent throughout, pushed her husband in the side and said, “Tell him.” Tears came to the man’s eyes as he said, “Pastor, you don’t know how wrong you are. Our daughter-in-law just left with our only grandchild, and we don’t know if we’ll ever see them again. Our family’s falling apart—everything’s gone wrong. You don’t know how wrong you are.”

Dr. Cunningham said, “On second thought, maybe you would be happy at our church.” I make you the same promise here, today.


Where Is God When It Hurts

Where Is God When It Hurts?

1 John 4:7-12

Dr. Jim Denison

So you think you had a bad day recently. This true account was taken from a recent Florida newspaper.

A man was working on his motorcycle on his patio when it slipped into gear and dragged him through the glass patio door and into the dining room. He lay bleeding on the floor as his wife called the paramedics, who transported him to the hospital for stitches. Then she went into the living room, pushed the motorcycle back outside, and used some paper towels to blot up the gasoline which had spilled onto the floor. She threw the towels into the toilet and went to the hospital to check on her husband.

His stitches done, he was released to go home. As he looked at his shattered patio door and damaged motorcycle, he became despondent, went into the bathroom, sat down and smoked a cigarette. He then threw it into the toilet where the gasoline-soaked towels were. It exploded, blowing his trousers away and burning his backside. His wife again ran to the telephone to call for an ambulance.

The same paramedics came to the house again. As they were carrying him on their stretcher down the stairs to the ambulance, one of them asked his wife how he had burned himself. She told him, and the paramedics started laughing so hard one of them tipped the stretcher and dumped the man out. He fell down the remaining steps and broke his arm.

Now, how was your week?

We begin today a series on problems with God, starting with the hardest question of all: where is God when it hurts? Christians believe three facts: God is all powerful, God is all loving, and evil exists. If you’re hurting today or care about someone who is, you know the third statement is true. But what of the others? Where is God when life hurts?

God is love

One answer to this problem is to deny the first statement, the assertion that God is all-powerful. If God could not prevent this problem, or heal this disease, or change these circumstances, then we should not blame him for them. Across the years many have unfortunately chosen this approach.

Here’s an example. Rabbi Harold Kushner wrote the bestseller, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, out of the suffering and death of his own child. In his book, the rabbi states flatly that God cannot change the laws of nature for our benefit, and will not answer our prayers for the impossible or the unnatural. The rabbi has chosen a limited God as his approach to suffering in the world. Many would agree.

But most of us would not. I am assuming today that most of us know that God, if he is indeed God, is all-powerful. The God who created the universe out of nothing clearly has the power to intervene in that universe. If I can create a watch, I can change its time. If I can create a car, I can drive it.

We more commonly question God’s love, don’t we? If God really loved us, he wouldn’t allow this problem or this pain, we say.

Now our text is clear: “God is love.” The text does not say, “God loves,” for we love and we are not God. It does not say “love is God,” for God is more than a loving feeling or action. The Bible says that God is love.

Love is his nature, his very being. You and I sometimes do loving things—God is love. God loves in action because he is love in essence. Love is who God is, the Bible says.

Do you believe that it’s really true?

Many did not believe these words when John wrote them. The Greeks of his century pictured their gods living on Mt. Olympus, removed from our cares and problems, throwing thunderbolts at us on a whim.

The Roman Stoics of his day saw the gods as fates. They said that we are dogs tied to carts. We can run with the cart or be dragged with the cart, but we’re going with the cart. Apathy—literally “no feeling”—is the best way to deal with gods who do not feel.

Some today struggle to picture God as love. They know that Jesus loves us, but are not so sure that God the Father does. I still remember the preacher’s story about the dying woman, with her husband on one side and their estranged son on the other. In her last act, she took the hand of the father and the hand of the child, brought them together, and died. And so the preacher said that Jesus on the cross took the hand of the wrathful Father and sinful humanity and brought them together in his death. But the Bible says, “God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son” (John 3:16).

Perhaps you struggle with this assertion that God is love. If God really loved you, he wouldn’t let you hurt like this, would he? He wouldn’t allow a plane to crash, killing ten people associated with a college basketball team; he wouldn’t permit an earthquake to kill multiplied thousands; he wouldn’t countenance cancer or heart disease, or rape or drug abuse, or poverty or pain. Or so it seems.

How do we know that God really loves us in the face of hard times? This must have been a question John anticipated in writing this letter as well, for he answers it immediately: “This is how God showed his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love: not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins” (vs. 9-10).

He sent his Son as our sacrifice (v. 10). He died in our place, for our sins, to prove his love.

He sent him as our Savior: “We have seen and testify that the Father has sent his Son to be the Savior of the world” (v. 14). He sent him to save us from our sins and give us eternal life in heaven, to prove his love.

And he sent him as our security, to guarantee us this life with his Father: “I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God so that you may know that you have eternal life” (1 John 5:13).

I first preached on this text on March 16, 1986, the Sunday after Ryan was born. I only thought I did not understand God’s love in sending his Son to die for us. Then God gave Janet and me a son. Now I know that I don’t understand how God could do this for you and for me. But he did. Our Father proved his love by sending his Son for us.

And he is love, no matter what our circumstances might be. No conditions are placed on this statement in Scripture, or in life. No matter what is happening to you, God loves you. It probably doesn’t seem or feel that way, but it’s so.

Charles Spurgeon, the Baptist preaching genius, was out for a walk in the country one afternoon. He came upon a farmer’s barn with a weathervane on the roof, and saw the words at the top of the weathervane, “God is love.” Just then the farmer came out, and Spurgeon asked him, “Do you mean to say that God’s love is as changing as the weather?” The farmer smiled and said, “Not at all. I mean to say that no matter where the winds blow, God is love.”

Help for our minds

So why would a loving God allow life to hurt so much? Here in brief is the collected wisdom of theologians and other scholars on the subject. Here’s help for our minds. Then we’ll seek help for our hearts.

First, some suffering comes from the natural order. God created a world which operates according to natural laws. As one theologian observed, the man who jumps from a fifty-story window doesn’t break the law of gravity—he illustrates it. God could not give us fire without the possibility that we might be burned, or water without the possibility that we might drown, or the ability to produce cars without the possibility that they might crash. Some suffering results from the natural world.

Second, some suffering comes from the enemy. Scripture says that Satan is a “roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8). Lions only roar when they are about to attack. Not all pain comes from him, but some does.

Third, some suffering results from our mistakes. Not all, but some. When I don’t study for a test and fail it, I shouldn’t blame the teacher (but I do). When Mickey Mantle was dying of liver disease caused by a series of wrong choices he told the world, “Don’t do what I did.” And I admire his courage in saying it.

God gave us freedom of choice, so we could choose to worship him. If we misuse this freedom, the fault is not with God but us.

Fourth, God can redeem all suffering. Scripture teaches that God works through all things for good (Romans 8:28). He sometimes permits suffering so as to grow us spiritually and personally. And he always redeems suffering for good, either now or in the future, given the opportunity.

Fifth, we will fully understand suffering one day. The Bible says, “Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known” (1 Corinthians 13:12).

When Mike Yaconelli’s child died he wrote, “We are surviving this a day at a time, knowing that one day we will be able to ask God some very hard questions.” So will we all.

Last, God suffers with us. Because he is love, he hurts as we hurt. David was right: “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Psalm 23:4).

Every parent in this room knows that we hurt when our children hurt, for we love them. How much more does the God who is love hurt as we hurt. And love us all the while.

Help for our hearts (11-12)

Now let’s make this study as practical as we can. How do we experience his love, his help, his presence? In his Spirit, in his word, but especially in his people.

God calls us to prove his love through ours: “Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.” “Ought” here means to be morally obligated or compelled.

Then the text continues: “No one has ever seen God; but if we love one another, God lives in us and his love is made complete in us” (vs. 11-12).

We are the only Bible most people will read, the only Jesus they will see. Nearly 20 centuries ago, Clement of Alexandria said that the real Christian “practices being God.” Because we have received, we know how to give. Because we are accepted, we know how to accept. Because we are loved, we know how to love. With God’s love.

Jesus said that loving hurting people would be our greatest witness: “By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another” (John 13:35). We prove God’s love when we love.

When my father died, two of the people who helped me most were Ricky Wilcox and Linda Sharp. Ricky drove across Houston the next day, and spent that day sitting with me. No advice, no words of wisdom, just his presence. He was just there. I’ve never forgotten the love of God I felt in his love.

And Linda Sharp was there. Linda’s father had died of cancer and then her pregnant older sister was killed by a drunk driver. She put her arms around my brother and me and said, “Time helps.” She was right. And God’s love was in hers.

Someone said, “I would like to ask God why he doesn’t do something about all the pain and suffering in the world.” “Why don’t you ask him?” someone replied. The man answered, “Because I’m afraid he’ll ask me the same question.”

Conclusion

No matter where the wind blows, God is still love. He hurts as you hurt, and wants to redeem your suffering for his glory and your good. And he wants you to show his love to the hurting people close to you. Today.

Debbie Hamilton has helped us worship God today, and I’m grateful. One of the most powerful experiences of my three years with you occurred in Paul and Debbie’s home last fall. The Waggoners are in their Sunday school class; as you know, Chip and Wendy’s little baby Benjamin was born with serious health challenges, though surgery this past week was wonderfully successful.

The week before the birth, the Hamilton class met in their home to pray for Chip, Wendy, and Benjamin. They surrounded them with their care and love. Then, when the members left, each took a specific assignment for helping: mowing the lawn, cleaning the house, bringing food, etc. They each also took a stamped envelope to send the Waggoners a note of encouragement. They showed Jesus’ love in theirs.

Where is God when it hurts? Someone is waiting for your answer.


Where Was God On 9-11?

Where Was God On 9-11?

Matthew 5:11-12

Dr. Jim Denison

A good friend in our church recently showed me a travel brochure she picked up years ago while visiting in New York City. It is from the World Trade Center, and describes the twin towers and the view from the topmost observation deck. The brochure’s cover pictures the towers beneath these words: “The closest some of us will ever get to heaven.”

This Wednesday our nation and world will remember the day more than 3,000 souls met their deaths in the worst act of terrorism ever committed against America. We’ll mourn with the surviving families. We’ll think of the 63 babies born after 9-11 to mothers without husbands. And we’ll ask “why?”

It is appropriate today for Christians to ask and be asked three questions. First, where was God on 9-11? Second, how are we to handle the crises of our own lives when they come? Third, how are we to feel about the enemies of our nation today? We’ll seek answers this morning from the most famous Sermon ever preached.

Where was God on 9-11?

First, where was God on “the day everything changed”? While the towers burned and collapsed, the Pengaton was attacked, and Flight 93 crashed into the Pennsylvania soil?

If God is all-powerful, he could have prevented the atrocities of that day. If he were all-loving, he would want to. If you or I were God, 9-11 would not be the most notorious numbers in American history, but just another day. Why did he allow it?

Jesus’ Sermon points to this explanation for 9-11: mankind is free to choose evil.

Matthew 5:11: “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me.”

Jesus tells us, “Do not resist an evil person” (5:39). He instructs us to “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (v. 44). Jesus expects us to meet with evil people and enemies in life. Why must they exist?

God created us to worship him. But worship requires freedom of choice. And we can choose to misuse this freedom for atrocity. Cain did. David did. Saul of Tarsus did. So did Hitler, and Osama bin Laden. Tragically, though in ways far less destructive, so have I. So have you.

Could God have intervened on 9-11? Could he have prevented the planes’ attacks by miraculous means? Of course. But only if he would likewise prevent the results of every sinful choice on the part of every sinful human. Only if he were to remove consequences from our choices. In the final analysis, only if he were to strip us of our freedom. And this he will not do.

So where was God on 9-11? Mourning with us, and more deeply than any of us. Grieving as only a Father made to watch his child die could grieve. Hurting with every hurting spouse, every lonely child, every aching parent’s heart.

In the same way he mourns with us every time our freedom leads to failure, our choices to crime, our sins to suffering. He is “God with us.”

Elie Wiesel’s books told the world of the Holocaust atrocities he survived. No passage is more horrifying than his account in Night of the small boy hanged by the Nazis: “For more than half an hour he stayed there, struggling between life and death, dying in slow agony under our eyes. And we had to look him full in the face. He was still alive when I passed in front of him. His tongue was still red, his eyes were not yet glazed.

“Behind me, I heard [a] man asking:

“‘Where is God now?’

“And I heard a voice within me answer him:

“‘Where is He? Here He is—He is hanging here on this gallows….'”

His suffering soul was more right than he knew.

How are we to handle hard times?

Now let’s make 9-11 even more personal. How does the Christian faith prepare us for the crises which come to our own lives? You may have known not a single person affected directly by 9-11, but you’ve had your own problems and you’ll have more. Jesus was a realist: “In this world you will have trouble” (John 16:33). It’s not “if” but “when” 9-11 comes for us personally.

What can we do to be prepared? The entire Sermon will help us this fall. Today we’ll explore briefly three simple principles.

Don’t live for today (6:19-21).

It’s a fact: moth and rust do destroy all the treasures of earth, and thieves “break in and steal.” Today is uncertain. Its possessions are not secure, its promises often unmet.

No one but the terrorists knew that September 11 would be a day different from any other. People went about their normal morning until the terror began. None of us expects this day to bring catastrophe. Or tomorrow. Neither did they.

And so Jesus advises us, “Store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal” (v. 20).

Live every day for eternity. Be ready today to meet God. Make sure your sins are confessed, your soul right with your Lord. Make your money and resources, your time and talents a means to the end of doing the eternal, of building God’s Kingdom on earth. Don’t live for today, because one day “today” will be gone.

Don’t worry about tomorrow (6:34).

Then you can obey this word from our Lord: “Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (6:34).

Jesus says of our daily needs, “Your heavenly Father knows that you need them” (v. 32). His word promises: “My God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19).

“Tomorrow” doesn’t exist. It’s just a word, not a reality. So plan and prepare for it, but don’t worry about it. Put your needs for tomorrow in the hands of God, today.

Trust the word of God (7:24-27).

Third, Jesus promises us: “everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock” (7:24-25).

This “rock” is trust in God’s word. We must hear the words of Jesus, but also “put them into practice.” When we study it every morning and live its truths every day, we build on its truth. Then when the storms come, we will stand. God says so.

How should we respond to our enemies?

Here’s our last 9-11 question for today: how should Christians respond to these enemies? To those who hurt us personally? How do we reconcile forgiveness with justice, the gifts of grace with the rule of law?

Jesus says about the crimes of 9-11: “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment'” (5:21).

Murder is typically defined as the willful taking of innocent life. God condemns it. The sixth commandment forbids it (Exodus 20:13).

The operatives of al-Qaeda broke this command, and the Koran’s prohibition against murder as well, by the way. They will be “subject to judgment” when they stand before God.

And stand before him they will: “man is destined to die once, and after that to face judgment” (Hebrews 9:27).

Without exception: “We must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad” (2 Corinthians 5:10).

The murderers of 9-11 will face the justice and judgment of Almighty God. His word promises that it is so.

So how are we to feel about them? Listen to these hard words from our Lord: “I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven” (5:44-45).

They had enemies, to be sure. Every disciple who heard these words lived to die at the hands of Christianity’s enemies but John, and he was imprisoned and exiled.

Despite such suffering, they were commanded by Jesus to “love” their enemies. Not to like them or their deeds, but to love them. And to put such love into action: “pray for those who persecute you,” literally “as they persecute you.”

We are to pray for America’s enemies, today and every day. To pray for their repentance from sin, for their conversion to Christ, for their best and God’s will in their lives. This is the word and will of God.

Does this mean that we are not to fight back, to defend our nation? That we are not to seek justice for the criminals behind these atrocities? Not at all.

No words of Jesus’ famous Sermon have been more misinterpreted than these: “Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also” (5:39). Jesus here refers to personal insult, not bodily injury or threat to life.

The Bible consistently upholds the rule of law and the expectation that a just society will live by justice. For instance, as commentary on the sixth commandment just stated, the law of Moses adds: “Anyone who strikes a man and kills him shall surely be put to death” (Exodus 20:12).

Ours is a just God. He is love, mercy, and grace. But Hebrews 12:29 also says, “Our God is a consuming fire.”

When I am insulted, I am to respond with grace and mercy, choosing to forgive, to pardon, to refuse to punish. But when I am attacked, I am to defend myself. As the Jewish nation did throughout its history. As America must today.

So there is this difficult balance for the Christian: do not punish those who insult, but defend ourselves against those who threaten our lives and nation. And in both, act in love.

Conclusion

Love alone can change the human heart. Trust the love and presence of God in the hardest times. Trust the love and word of God now, before the hard times come. Trust the love and justice of God when others bring injury and pain to you.

And find ways to express that love to those who question it, to those who need it most.

Max Lucado is pastor of the Oak Hills Church of Christ in San Antonio. Not long after September 11, a large group of members from his church went to New York to serve the devastated people there. When they returned home, some shared their reflections with Max and their church family. A friend in our church gave me a recording of that service. Here is the last story told that night.

One of the returning missionaries told of meeting Mark, an officer with the New York Police Department. He was a strong and passionate Christian, with a kind and gentle heart.

He told this church member of his experience on 9-11. He had been on duty at the World Trade Center when the attacks occurred. He helped move bystanders back as debris began falling from the burning towers. Then a large object fell, and he saw it was a human body. He looked into the sky, and saw to his horror other people jumping from the burning buildings. Many of them.

Risking his life, he ran back to the base of the towers, braving the falling debris and bodies. He began shouting to these people as they plummeted to the earth, “God loves you! Jesus loves you!” Mark wanted the last words they heard in this life to be the Gospel. He wanted them to have one last chance to know God’s love.

Where was God on 9-11? Could it be that he is asking us the same question?


Which Role Is Yours?

Which Role Is Yours?

Matthew 26:47-56

Dr. Jim Denison

A woman tells you that she is 20 years old today and has great-grandchildren. She looks fantastic for her age. Of course, she was born on February 29, 1924.

A leap year occurs in every year which can be evenly divided by four; thus we’re meeting for worship on leap year day today. However, the years 1600 and 2000 had a February 29 but 1500 did not, because the only century years that are leap years are the ones which can be divided evenly by 400. Is that clear?

It is somehow appropriate that we are confused today as we begin a sermon series on questions. Difficult, perplexing, common questions. More specifically, questions on the cross. As you know, Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ was released this week. Many of you have already seen it. You know that is not a movie one “sees” but a movie one experiences. It is the most realistic portrayal of the crucifixion ever filmed. For the first time, we can see what actually happened. And ask the most profound questions as a result.

Today we begin with the most foundational question of all: who killed Jesus? Who was really responsible for his death—the Romans? The Jews? You may be surprised at the answer you hear this morning.

Who arrested Jesus?

The setting of the text is familiar to most of us.

The Garden of Gethsemane was a private olive grove on the western slope of the Mount of Olives. Jesus and his followers often went to this secluded garden for prayer. I’ve been to the area twice, and found it as quiet and peaceful as it must have been for our Lord.

On this occasion, however, Jesus went there not to find peace but a sword. He went there so Judas would know where to find him. He could have fled into the Galilean hills and evaded arrest forever. Instead, he went to the one place where his arrest was assured.

He could have hidden in the Garden, and escaped from the soldiers marching through its trees, but he waited for the soldiers to come.

He could have used his disciples to prevent Judas from identifying him. Instead he said, “Friend, do what you came for.”

John gives us more of the story:

“Jesus, knowing all that was going to happen to him, went out and asked them, ‘Who is it you want?’ ‘Jesus of Nazareth,’ they replied” (John 18:4-5a). Note the irony of this situation. They are looking for him, but don’t know that this is the one they seek. Clearly he could direct them elsewhere, or flee under the cover of anonymity.

Instead, the narrative continues, “‘I am he,’ Jesus said. (And Judas the traitor was standing there with them.)” (vs. 5b). His Greek words were actually, “I am,” echoing the solemn and holy name of Yahweh himself. Note what comes next: “When Jesus said, ‘I am he,’ they drew back and fell to the ground'” (v. 6). Here is a second chance to flee.

Instead we find this response: “Again he asked them, ‘Who is it you want?’ And they said, ‘Jesus of Nazareth.’ ‘I told you that I am he,’ Jesus answered” (vs. 7-8). And finally they seized him. Have you ever heard of a person who worked so hard to be arrested?

But the story isn’t done. Peter then drew his sword and attacked Malchus, the servant of the high priest (John. 18:10). Such an armed resistance could well have been successful, but Jesus stopped it immediately. He could have called “twelve legions of angels” (a legion was 6,000 soldiers; this would be 72,000 angels, sufficient for the task at hand, one would think). But he did not.

Who was actually responsible for Jesus’ arrest? These incompetent soldiers, men who didn’t even know their subject? The disciples? Judas? Or our Lord?

Why was he arrested?

Here’s a second question: why did they arrest him? He asked them: “Am I leading a rebellion, that you have come out with swords and clubs to capture me?” (v. 55). Why did they seize him? Who did they think he was?

The religious authorities arrested him as a blasphemer, a heretic, one who claimed that he was God. He would soon confirm their charges: “The high priest said to him, ‘I charge you under oath by the living God: Tell us if you are the Christ, the Son of God.’ ‘Yes, it is as you say,’ Jesus replied” (Matthew 26:63-64).

The civil authorities executed him as a rebel, a traitor to Rome. Pilate made his crime clear: “Above his head they placed the written charge against him: This is Jesus, the king of the Jews” (Matthew 27:37). And there could be no king but Caesar.

Note what didn’t happen.

No one thought to claim that he didn’t exist. It is instructive that even his strongest enemies never considered such an attack. No one in all the literature of the period suggested that Jesus never lived. Not the Jewish responses, nor the Roman. Not the most hateful critic and opponent. We know too much from Tacitus, Suetonius, Mara bar Serapion, Josephus, and Pliny the Younger to dismiss his existence.

No one thought to claim that he was simply a religious teacher or leader, as The DaVinci Code and other modern critics claim. The Romans didn’t crucify Sunday school teachers or denominational officials. The authorities executed him because they understood who he claimed to be: the Son of God, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Nothing else. Nothing less.

Why did he die?

Now, if he was the Son of God, the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, able to call twelve legions of angels to his side, why did he die? Why did he allow them to crucify him? Who was really responsible for his death?

Note his own answer to the question: “How then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen this way?” (Matthew 26:54). He repeated himself: “All this has taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled” (v. 56). “Scriptures,” plural; “writings,” plural.

What did he mean? Listen to the plan which he and his Father created.

How would he be betrayed? “Even my close friend, whom I trusted, he who shared my bread, has lifted up his heel against me” (Psalm 41:9).

For how much? “They paid me thirty pieces of silver” (Zechariah 11:12).

How would his followers react? “Strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered” (Zechariah 13:7).

Who would accuse him? “Ruthless witnesses come forward…They repay me evil for good and leave my soul forlorn” (Psalm 35:11-12).

How would he respond? “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth” (Isaiah 53:7).

What would happen next?

How would he suffer? “I offered my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to those who pulled out my beard” (Isaiah 50:6a).

How would he die?” They will look on me, the one they have pierced” (Zechariah 12:10).

How would the crowd react? “I did not hide my face from mocking and spitting” (Isaiah 50:6b).

With whom would he die? “He poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors” (Isaiah 53:12).

How would these criminals respond? “They hurl insults, shaking their heads; ‘He trusts in the Lord; let the Lord rescue him'” (Psalm 22:7-8).

At his death:

He would suffer thirst: “They put gall in my food and gave me vinegar for my thirst” (Psalm 69:21).

His bones would not be broken: “”I can count all my bones; people stare and gloat over me” (Psalm 22:17).

They would gamble for his robe: “They divide my garments among them and cast lots for my clothing” (Psalm 22:18).

He would cry to the Lord, “”My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Psalm 22:1).

At the end he would pray, “Into your hands I commit my spirit” (Psalm 31:5).

Why did Jesus die? To fulfill the plan of his Father as “the Lamb that was slain from the creation of the world” (Revelation 13:8). Because this was their strategy before time began, before the first human was created, before the first sin was committed.

Conclusion

It comes to this: you cannot kill God. The soldiers didn’t arrest him—he gave himself to them. The authorities didn’t kill him—he chose to die, to fulfill the Scriptures, the plan he and his Father had made from the foundation of the world. God intended to have Jesus crucified before time began.

So know this: we are the ones responsible for his death. We are the reason he gave his life. God knew his only begotten Son would die for you before he made you. Consider that fact for a moment.

A family is moving into the vacant house next to yours. Somehow you know that your son is going to befriend their drug-addicted daughter and save her life. But her drug dealers will kill him for it. Would you introduce them?

Your daughter calls to say that she is driving home from college this weekend with a friend. Somehow you know that this friend is going to drive drunk, and steer the car into oncoming traffic. At the last moment, your daughter will grab the wheel and save her friend’s life, but she will die. Would you allow the trip?

A friend’s kidneys have failed, and a transplant is his only hope of survival. The only possible donor is your son. Somehow you know that his kidney will save your friend’s life, but your son will not survive the operation. Would you allow it?

Absurd questions, aren’t they? Do you love anyone that much? Does someone love you that much? Actually, someone does.

You may know that Mel Gibson, the director and producer of The Passion of The Christ, appears in the movie himself. When Jesus’ hand is stretched on the cross, a fist holds the spike which is driven into the Savior’s flesh. The hand which holds that spike, the hand which crucifies the Lord, is Mel Gibson’s. He was asked why he did it that way. His answer: because I killed him. We all did.

I understand and appreciate what he means. But we can’t kill Christ. He chose to die, for you. Before he made you, he knew he would die for you. That’s how much he loves you. The passion of the Christ is you.


Which Son Are You?

Which Son Are You?

Dr. Jim Denison

Luke 15:11-32

Thesis: We are each welcome in the Kingdom of God

One of the most encouraging readings I have ever found is this adaptation from Henri Nouwein’s classic book The Beloved:

I have called you by name

from the very beginning.

You are mine and I am yours.

You are my beloved,

on you my favor rests.

I have molded you in the depths of the earth

and knitted you together in your mother’s womb.

I have carved you in the palm of my hand

and hidden you in the shadow of my embrace.

I look at you with infinite tenderness

and care for you with a care more intimate

than that of a mother for her child.

I have counted every hair on your head

and guided you at every step.

Wherever you go, I go with you,

and wherever you rest, I keep watch.

I will give you food that will satisfy all your hunger

and drink that will quench all your thirst.

I will not hide my face from you.

You are my beloved in whom I am well pleased.

Do these words touch you at a deep place in your soul? Why?

The most popular hymn in America is “Amazing Grace.” This is the conclusion of a survey of more than 10,000 newspaper readers. Others on the top ten list: “How Great Thou Art”; “In The Garden”; “The Old Rugged Cross”; “What A Friend We Have In Jesus”; “A Mighty Fortress”; “Blessed Assurance”; “He Lives”; “Victory In Jesus”; and “Holy, Holy, Holy.” What do our most beloved hymns have in common?

Blaise Pascal was by every measure a genius. He is considered the father of the modern computer, and was famous in his day for his work on probability theory and the problem of the vacuum. He devised Paris’s first public transportation system. And he was a man of remarkable insight into the human condition.

Consider his diagnosis of our basic problem: “All men seek happiness. There are no exceptions. However different the means they employ, they all strive towards this goal. The reason why some go to war and some do not is the same desire in both, but interpreted in two different ways. The will never takes the least step except to that end. This is the motive of every act of every man. . . .

“Yet for very many years no one without faith has ever reached the goal at which everyone is continually aiming. All men complain: princes, subjects, nobles, commoners, old, young, strong, weak, learned, ignorant, healthy, sick, in every country, at every time, of all ages, and all conditions. . . .

“What else does this craving, and this helplessness, proclaim but that there was once in man a true happiness, of which all that now remains is the empty print and trace? This he tries in vain to fill with everything around him, seeking in things that are not there the help he cannot find in those that are, though none can help, since this infinite abyss can be filled only with an infinite and immutable object.”

What is this “infinite and immutable object”? What is it that we need most in our lives? This week we are privileged to walk through “the greatest short story in the world” (Barclay 204). Here we’ll find the answer to our souls’ deepest longing, the hub into which all the spokes of our lives fit. Here is the “true north” which makes sense of our chaos, the discovery which alone can give life genuine significance.

This key to the meaning of life is found when you answer one question: which son in our story are you?

Leaving the home of grace

“There was a man who had two sons” (v. 11). And so our story begins. The man was presumably a Palestinian Jewish farmer or landowner. His “many” servants (v. 17) attested to his wealth. He was a man blessed with lands, possessions, and sons. Until today.

This day, “The younger one said to his father, ‘Father, give me my share of the estate'” (v. 12a). Nothing in the story indicates that either son was married, yet both were wealthy and would likely wed when reaching the marriage age of 30. And so they were both under this age; the younger son is perhaps closer to 20 (Fitzmyer 1087). And their father was still a relatively young man.

Nonetheless, his younger son wanted the part of the state which customarily came to him at his father’s death. Assuming there were only two sons, the older would receive 2/3 of the estate, so-called “double share” (Deuteronomy 21.17), while the younger received 1/3. Such a request was not impossible legally, but it was as much an outrage as a similar demand would be in our society today.

Despite this grave insult, the father did as his younger son asked: “So he divided his property between them” (v. 12b). This decision marked a formal and legal division of his goods (Rienecker 186), a binding action for them all. It would appear that the younger son received his part of the estate in money or moveable property, while the elder received the lands and fixed property (Barnes 102). If this is true, the father must have given a great deal of his personal possessions to constitute the estate owed his younger son. Every day would bring a fresh reminder of all he no longer owned—in his property and in his son.

Here we see the first appearance of that grace which is the central focus of Jesus’ parable. The father was not bound to grant his son’s disrespectful demand. He was not bound to give such personal possession to constitute an estate he did not owe until his death. But he gives what the son asks, with no word of complaint or censure. How many parents would do the same for one of their sons today? Would you?

“Not long after that, the younger son got together all he had, set off for a distant country and there squandered his wealth in wild living” (v. 13). What a turn in life and fortune Jesus captured in these few words. The young man had more than most of the world could dream of owning. After converting flocks or grain, possessions and property, he owned 1/3 of a wealthy estate. To a world populated primarily by slaves and impoverished serfs, such a man was standing at the top of the social ladder. Given the popular belief of the day that wealth is proof of divine favor, this man has been blessed by heaven and earth.

But not for long. He left his Palestinian home to see the larger world. And it saw him coming. Soon he “squandered” his wealth—the word means to scatter in various directions (Rienecker 186). Jesus used the same word in Matthew 25.24: “gathering where you have not scattered seed” (Robertson 208). Picture a farmer throwing his seed to the wind, and you see the younger brother at work. His father’s lifetime of earning and savings was nothing to him. Easy come, easy go.

Had he invested poorly, we would criticize his foolishness but not his goals. But no: he squandered his wealth in “wild living.” The word means to “live prodigally,” to engage in debauched living (Rienecker 186). It stands for reckless waste with free reign given to every passion, the height of undisciplined freedom (Bruce 580), the “limit of sinful excesses” (Robertson 208). This word, found here only in the New Testament, names its owner for all time as the “prodigal son.”

What happened next is the way of our fallen world: “After he had spent everything, there was a severe famine in that whole country, and he began to be in need” (v. 14). Famines were common in the ancient Near East. They were caused by crop failures, want of rain, strong sun, or prevalence of plagues or pestilence (Barnes 102). At the worst possible moment, such a famine struck the “whole country” where he now lived. The young man had lost all he owned, and now had no way to earn it back.

So he stepped from the immoral to the unthinkable: “he went and hired himself out to a citizen of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed pigs” (v. 15). “Hired himself” means to glue together, to join. He appears that he forced himself on a citizen of that country (Rienecker 187; Bruce 580). And not just any citizen—a pig owner, thus a Gentile. Remember that the Jews were taught to believe that God made Gentiles only so there would be firewood in hell. No self-respecting Jew would go into a Gentile home, or touch Gentile possessions. And above all, no Jewish boy would feed a pig.

Pig herding was the most degrading occupation known to the Jews (Rienecker 187). Pigs were “unclean” for the people (Leviticus 11.7); they were “not to eat their meat or touch their carcasses” (Deuteronomy 14.8). One of the rabbis said, “Cursed be the man who raises pigs” (quoted by Fitzmyer 1088).

Barnes gives us the spiritual sense of Jesus’ picture: “The object of this image, as used by the Savior in the parable, is to show the loathsome employments and the deep degradation to which sin leads men, and no circumstance could possibly illustrate it in a more striking manner than he has done here. Sin and its results everywhere have the same relation to that which is noble and great, which the feeding of swine had, in the estimation of a Jew, to an honorable and dignified employment (103).

The “prodigal” has taken his father’s estate as though he were dead. He has left his home for the “far country.” He has “squandered” possessions his father spent a lifetime earning. Now he has forced himself on a Gentile to feed pigs. But there is one step lower into the abyss: “He longed to fill his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, but no one gave him anything” (v. 16).

These “pods” were horn-shaped parts of the carob tree (Bruce 580), sometimes called “Saint John’s Bread” from the notion that the Baptist ate them in the wilderness (Robertson 209; cf. Barnes 103). Some read the text to suggest that the prodigal could eat these but nothing more (Bruce 581). But the more likely meaning is that he could not have even these (Barnes 103). In such depressed times of famine, this food had been measured out for the swine and there was nothing to spare.

Here is what it is like to leave the home of grace. It is to refuse your Father’s plans and purposes, dreams and goals for your life. To take gifts, abilities, possessions and opportunities which he intends to be used for his glory and your good, and use them for your own selfish ends. To waste them. To give yourself to people or purposes which demean him as your Father, and dishonor his family and you. To find yourself starved and abandoned alone.

It is your story and it is mine. It is the story of every person who rejects the love of God, who leaves the home of grace. But the story didn’t end there. It never does.

Coming home to grace

“When he came to his senses” (v. 17a)—the second chance of grace. The Greek says literally, “coming to himself.” It can mean that he realized his situation, but more likely it indicates that he came to “his true self, his sane mind” (Bruce 581). The phrase was commonly applied to one who had been deranged but recovered his mind (Barnes 103). In this case, his soul.

No matter where you find yourself today, it’s not too late. You can stop feeding the pigs, and craving their food. You can stop working for the pig owners. You can come to yourself. You can come home to grace.

The prodigal said to himself, “How many of my father’s hired men have food to spare, and here I am starving to death!” (v. 17b). “Food to spare” translates a phrase which means to be surrounded by loaves as by a flood (Robertson 210). So, “I will set out and go back to my father” (v. 18a). But how could he? The legal documents were signed and executed. He had no further claims on the estate, no rights to his previous status. The father had no reason or obligation to receive such a sinful, dishonorable prodigal.

The young son knew it was so: he would declare to him: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son; make me like one of your hired men” (vs. 18b-19). He “sinned”—the word means to miss the mark (Robertson 210), to miss the purpose and meaning of life. He sinned against heaven, against his heavenly Father. This recognition is the first step to genuine repentance, for all sin is first and foremost against our holy Father (cf. Psalm 51.4: “Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight”).

And he sinned against his earthly father: “and against you.” He missed the mark with his family, with this man who loved him so much. And now it was too late to earn it back: “I am no longer worthy to be called your son.” He could do nothing to deserve restoration. He was right, and repentant (Geldenhuys 408; Fitzmyer 1089).

So, his repentance sincere and his resolve sure, “he got up and went to his father” (v. 20a). But his father was not done with grace. The same grace which gave the inheritance the son did not earn, now refused to give the punishment he deserved. Refused to continue the consequences for sins his son confessed. He is just like our Father in heaven.

Here is one of the most poignant verses in all the word of God: “But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him” (v. 20). The father had been looking for his son, from the moment he left to the moment he returned (Robertson 210). He was “filled with compassion” for this son now limping back in rags and repentance. He “ran” to his son, regardless of Eastern dignity and the proprieties of advancing years (Bruce 581), exactly the opposite of the way his son has come home to him (Barnes 105).

He “kissed him,” in language which means to kiss fervently and frequently, over and over again (Bruce 581; Robertson 210). This act was the ancient sign of forgiveness (Rienecker 187; Fitzmyer 1089). When King David kissed Absalom, his wayward and sinful son, he extended to him this same forgiveness (2 Samuel 14.33). Now the father gave such grace to his shocked and sinful boy.

The prodigal started his speech: “Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son” (v. 21). But his father wouldn’t let him finish. He heard enough. He heard words of repentance from a heart of grief and guilt and genuine sorrow. And that was all he needed to hear.

The father welcomed the boy as his son. He was “justified”—”just as if I’d never sinned.” He was restored, publicly and powerfully. He received “the best robe” (v. 22a), a stately garment coming down to the feet, worn by kings (Robertson 211), replacing the wretched rags the boy wore home (Bruce 582). A ring was placed on his finger (v. 22b), Jewish tradition for one honored as his father’s deputy (Rienecker 187; Esther 8.2). The son was not only received, but promoted. And he was given “sandals on his feet” (v. 22c). No slaves wore sandals, only sons (Bruce 582).

But the father was not done with grace: “Bring the fattened calf and kill it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate” (v. 23). Wealthy landowners kept a calf fattened for festive occasions. And so the father kept the calf, perhaps hoping for his son’s return and the party he would give in his honor (Robertson 211).

Why the celebration? “This son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found” (v. 24a). “This my son” is the literal wording. The father claimed his boy publicly, introducing him to attendants who did not know him from before he left for the far country. And telling the world that he was proud of his boy. He had been “dead” spiritually (cf. Romans 6.13; Revelation 3.1; Ephesians 2.1-5), but now he was alive. He had been lost, but now he is found. “So they began to celebrate” (v. 24b).

The prodigal thought he was coming home to face wrath and works, and deservedly so. But he found instead grace and gifts. Not grace he must earn, for that is no grace at all. Grace he could only receive in wonder, faith, and joy.

Theologian Paul Tillich described such an encounter with true grace, in words so meaningful they deserve a slow and careful reading:

“Grace strikes us when we are in great pain and restlessness. It strikes us when we walk through the dark valley of a meaningless and empty life. It strikes us when we feel that our separation is deeper than usual, because we have violated another life, a life which we loved, or from which we were estranged.

“It strikes us when our disgust for our own being, our indifference, our weakness, our hostility, and our lack of direction and composure have become intolerable to us. It strikes us when, year after year, the longed-for perfection of life does not appear, when the old compulsions reign within us as they have for decades, when despair destroys all joy and courage.

“Sometimes at that moment a wave of light breaks into our darkness and it is as though a voice were saying: ‘You are accepted. You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know. Do not ask for the name now; perhaps you will find it later. Do not try to do anything now; perhaps later you will do much. Do not seek for anything; do not perform anything; do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted!’

“If that happens to us, we experience grace. After such an experience we may not be better than before, and we may not believe more than before. But everything is transformed. In that moment, grace conquers sin, and reconciliation bridges the gulf of estrangement. And nothing is demanded of this experience, no religious or moral or intellectual presupposition, nothing but acceptance.”

The father in the story did not love his son because he came home. His son could come home because his father loved him. Our Father does not give us grace if we believe, or repent, or trust. We can believe, and repent, and trust because he gives us grace.

The prodigal “came to himself,” then came home. Is there a Father waiting for you to do the same? Looking even now at your soul in the far country? Waiting, robe and ring and sandals in hand? Ready to give what you cannot earn or deserve? Ready to welcome you home?

Giving what we have received

But the story is not done. We know what happened to the younger brother. But what of the elder? He was “in the field” (v. 25a), hard at his job, doing work his younger brother had abandoned to him. Coming near the house “he heard music and dancing” (v. 25b). “Music” translates the Greek word sumphonos, from which we get “symphony.” The musicians were entertainers hired by the father for his son’s party.

And everyone danced to their music. Dancing was common at Jewish feasts (Judges 21.21), at times of triumph (Judges 11.34), and at times of joy (Psalm 30.11-12; Jeremiah 31.4, 13). But why? The older brother “called one of the servants and asked him what was going on” (v. 26). And he got his answer: “Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf because he has him back safe and sound” (v. 27). Note Jesus’ explicit words: “your brother, your father.”

But his brother “became angry” (v. 28a)—the words mean he “flew into a rage” (Robertson 212). Long resentment towards his wayward brother, coupled with work done to compensate for his failures, was combined with the public humiliation the prodigal has caused them all. Wanting no part of this celebration, he “refused to go in” (v. 28b).

So his father came to him, rushing out just as he had rushed earlier in the day to his younger brother. He “pleaded with him” (v. 28c), the tense indicating that he “kept on beseeching him” (Rienecker 188; Robertson 212). But the older would have none of it: “Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders” (v. 29a). We wonder if his “slavery” indicates a secret desire to do what his younger brother had done. He “never” disobeyed—the tense means that he did not err even once (Rienecker 188).

“Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends” (v. 29b). To hear him tell the story, his life was nothing but drudgery and work, slaving for a father who was little more than an employer. We cannot believe that it was really so, or that it was the father’s fault if it was. No father could extend such marvelous grace to one son without offering it to the other.

Now we see into the older brother’s true soul: “But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!” (v. 30). Not “my brother” but “this son of yours,” a Greek expression of great contempt (Rienecker 188; Barnes 106). No one mentioned prostitutes before he made his accusation, a charge for which he could have no support. Barclay may be right: “He, no doubt, suspected his brother of the sins he himself would have liked to commit” (206).

But the father showed his older son the same grace he has given to the younger: “My son, you are always with me, and everything I have is yours” (v. 31). Despite his reproofs, his accusations, his charges, this man was still his son. The estate belonging to him was still his. Nothing had changed. Though the father had the right to reprove and reject such a malicious and slanderous boy, he refused.

Instead he explained: “We had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found” (v. 32). “We had to celebrate”—there is urgency here, for whenever a child comes home, his family must celebrate. The Greek says “to be merry”—deep-seated joy, hilarity beyond words (Robertson 213). “This brother of yours”—the father’s point is clear. The father’s son, and his son’s brother, was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.

The older brother offers us two lessons. The first: keep working in the fields. But not as a slave but a son. Motivated not by obligation to our Master but by gratitude for his grace.

Legends always grow up around famous people. Here is one of my favorite Paderewski stories. A mother took her young son to hear the famous pianist, so as to encourage him in his own progress on the piano. After they were seated, the mother spotted a friend in the audience and went to greet her. This was her son’s chance. He bolted for the curtains obscuring the stage from the crowd. The house lights dimmed, the concert was about to begin, and the mother found her son missing. In the next moment the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the Steinway on the stage gleaming with polish.

In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.” At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moving to the piano. He whispered in the boy’s ear, “Don’t quit. Keep playing.” Then leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began creating a bass part. With his right hand he added a running obligato. Together they performed a duet for the ages.

So it is with our performance on the instrument built by our Father. As we work he works. What we create is far less our ability and far more his. He does so much more with us than we can do for him. Our job is simply to be obedient, to play in gratitude for his grace, and to trust his hands to do the rest.

The father gave to his older son what was not his, just as he did so for the younger. Neither of them earned life, care, or compassion. Neither created the wealth he inherited. Neither deserved the compassion he received. Both were called to work with the father—not from obligation but gratitude.

What motivates you to teach your class? To give your time and abilities and finances to God’s Kingdom? To study this lesson?

The second lesson: give to others what you have received. Extend to others the grace God has given to you. You have received the blessing of God. Now give to a prodigal what the Father has bestowed on you.

Grady Nutt was a wonderful Christian comic and a deeply devoted believer. In college I heard him tell this week’s parable, and ask this question: If you were the prodigal, who would you want to greet you at the gate—the father or the older brother?

We have studied the two sons of Jesus’ famous parable. Which are you—the prodigal in the far country, squandering all God has given you in rebellion? Perhaps. But it is more likely that someone reading this commentary to prepare a Sunday school lesson is tempted to be the older brother. Serving in the fields, working for the Father. Will you give the grace of God to those entrusted to your care this week? Will they see the compassion, acceptance, and love of your Lord? Will you give what you have been given?

The famous preacher Samuel Chadwick once announced to his congregation, “I am going to preach on the third Son in the parable of the prodigal son” (cited in Morgan 266). Who is the third? The one who taught this parable. The one who sings with his Father when a prodigal comes home. Will you join his song?


Who Is the Holy Spirit

Who is the Holy Spirit?

Dr. Jim Denison

The Holy Spirit is the most misunderstood member of the Trinity. Who is he? What does he do? Why does he matter so much in our lives today?

I spent years in Baptist churches with no real introduction to the Holy Spirit. I don’t remember ever hearing a sermon on the subject. We knew to trust in Jesus and worship his Father, but I had no idea how to relate to the Spirit. Or even if I should. I suspect that many of us have a similar story.

We’ll begin with some introductions. The Holy Spirit is not an impersonal neuter, an “it.” He is more than a “presence.” He is not a “ghost,” holy or otherwise (the King James Version notwithstanding).

Rather, the Spirit is a Person who works personally. He possesses the three distinctive characteristics of personality: knowledge (1 Corinthians 2:10-11), will (1 Corinthians 12:11), and feeling or emotion (Romans 15:30). He performs acts which only a person can perform: he searches (1 Corinthians 2:10), speaks (Revelation 2:7), cries (Galatians 4:6), prays (Romans 8:26), testifies (John 15:26), teaches (John 14:26), leads Christians (Romans 8:24), and commands people (Acts 16:6,7).

He is treated in Scripture as only a person can be treated: he is grieved and rebelled against (Isaiah 63:10; Ephesians 4:30); insulted (Hebrews 10:29); and blasphemed (Matthew 12:31, 32). But is he God?

Why is the Spirit “Holy”?

Why do we believe the Spirit to be God? For five reasons. First, he possesses the four distinctly divine attributes: eternity (Hebrews 9:14), omnipresence (Psalm 139:7-10), omniscience (1 Corinthians 2:10, 11), and omnipotence (Luke 1:35). Second, he performs each of the three distinctively divine works: creation (Job 33:4; Psalm 104:30; Genesis 1:1-3), impartation of life (John 6:63; Genesis 2:7), and authorship of prophecy (2 Peter 1:21).

Third, Old Testament statements about God are applied to the Holy Spirit in the New Testament (see Exodus 16:7 and Hebrews 3:7-9). Fourth, the name of the Holy Spirit is often coupled with that of God (1 Corinthians 12:4-6; Matthew 28:19-20; 2 Corinthians 13:14). And last, the Holy Spirit is called God. Peter asked Ananias, “how is it that Satan has so filled your heart that you have lied to the Holy Spirit?” (Acts 5:3). Then the apostle warns, “You have not lied to men but to God” (v. 5).

While the Spirit is God, he is also distinct from the Father and the Son. At Jesus’ baptism, the Spirit descended while the Father spoke (Luke 3:21, 22). We are to baptize in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Spirit (Matthew 28:19). The Son promised that the Spirit would come when the Son left earth for heaven (John 16:7).

When we survey the names given to the Spirit by Scripture, we get a better sense of his divinity and significance. He is the Spirit (Psalm 104:30); the Spirit of God (1 Corinthians 3:16); the Spirit of Jehovah (Isaiah 11:2); the Spirit of the Lord Jehovah (Isaiah 61:1-3), and the Spirit of the living God (2 Corinthians 3:6). He is the Spirit of Christ (Romans 8:9), the Spirit of Jesus Christ (Philippians 1:19), the Spirit of Jesus (Acts 16:6, 7), and the Spirit of his Son (Galatians 4:6).

He is the Holy Spirit (Luke 11:13), the Holy Spirit of promise (Ephesians 1:13, RSV), of holiness (Romans 1:4), judgment (Isaiah 4:4), and burning (Isaiah 4:4). He is the Spirit of truth (John 14:17), of wisdom and understanding (Isaiah 11:2), of counsel and might (Isaiah 11:2), and the Spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the Lord (Isaiah 11:2). He is the Spirit of life (Romans 8:2), the oil of gladness (Hebrews 1:9), the Spirit of grace (Hebrews 10:29), of grace and supplication (Zechariah 12:18, RSV), of glory (1 Peter 4:14), the eternal Spirit (Hebrews 9:14), the Comforter (John 14:26), and God in us, the hope of glory (Colossians 1:27).

How can we know him better?

What does the Spirit do?

We’ve learned that the Spirit is a Person and that he is Holy. What does this holy Person do? The Bible likens him to fire (Isaiah 4:4), wind (John 3), water (John 7:37-39), a dove (Genesis 1:2; Luke 3:22), a “seal for the day of redemption” (Ephesians 4:30; 2 Timothy 2:19), an “earnest” or down-payment on the future (Ephesians 1:13, 14), and anointing oil (2 Corinthians 1:21).

The Spirit was extremely active in the Old Testament. He created the material universe and humanity (Psalm 33:6; Job 33:4). He empowered individuals for specific tasks (Judges 14:6,19; 15:14; 1 Samuel 10:6,10; 2 Chronicles 15:1-2; Zechariah 4:6). He maintains living creatures (Psalm 104:29, 30), and sides with the helpless, poor, wretched and oppressed (Psalm 103:6).

He anticipated the Anointed One, the Messiah (Isaiah 42:2), and would one day be poured out on the house of Israel (Ezekiel 39:29). He would be experienced universally (Joel 2:28-29), and would write God’s laws on the hearts of all (Jeremiah 31:31-34).

The Spirit was active in the life and earthly ministry of Jesus. Our Savior was born of the Spirit (Luke 1:35), and lived a sinless life in the power of the Spirit (Hebrews 9:14). He was anointed and fitted for service by the Spirit (Acts 10:38; Isaiah 61:1; Luke 4:14,18,19; 3:22). The Spirit led Jesus in his earthly movements (Luke 4:1). He taught Jesus, and was his source of wisdom (Isaiah 11:2, 3; 42:1, fulfilled in Matthew 12:17,18).

Jesus worked his miracles through the Spirit (Matthew 12:28). By the power of the Spirit, Jesus was raised from the dead (Romans 8:11). After his resurrection, Christ gave commandments to his apostles through the Spirit (Acts 1:2). Now the Spirit bears witness to Jesus (John 15:26, 27).

The Spirit then worked in the apostles and prophets, giving them special gifts for specific purposes (1 Corinthians 12:4, 8-11, 28, 29). Truth was hidden before the Spirit revealed it (Ephesians 3:3-5). The apostles and prophets spoke not in their wisdom but the Spirit’s (1 Peter 1:10, 12), as they were carried along by him (2 Peter 1:21). The Spirit spoke prophetic utterances (Hebrews 3:7; 10:15,16; Acts 28:25; 2 Samuel 13:2), so that when we read their words we find not the speech of men but of God (Mark 7:13; 2 Samuel 23:2). In a very real sense, every time we open the pages of Scripture, we hear the voice of the Spirit as he speaks to us today.

How does all this relate to our personal lives?

Why does the Spirit matter to us?

The Holy Spirit shows us our guilt as sinners, convicting us of righteousness and judgment (Acts 2:36, 37). He then imparts spiritual life to those who are spiritually dead (Ephesians 2:1; cf. Titus 3:5; John 3:3-5).

Now he indwells the believer (1 Corinthians 6:19, 20), and sets us free from sin (Romans 8:2). He forms Christ within us (Ephesians 3:14-19), bringing forth Christ-like graces of character (Galatians 5:22, 23). He guides the believer into the life of a son (Romans 8:14), and bears witness to our sonship (Romans 8:15,16).

The Spirit brings to remembrance the words of Christ, and will teach us all things (John 14:26). He reveals the deep things of God which are hidden from and foolishness to the “natural man” (1 Corinthians 2:9-13). He interprets his own revelation to us (1 Corinthians 2:14), enabling Christians to communicate to others in power the truth which we have been taught by him (1 Corinthians 2:1-5).

He guides the believer in prayer (Jude 20; Ephesians 6:18); he inspires and guides us in thanksgiving (Ephesians 5:18-20); and he inspires and leads our worship (Philippians 3:3). He infills the believer (Ephesians 5:18). He sends us into definite vocations (Acts 13:2-4). And he guides us in daily life (Acts 8:27-29; 16:6, 7).

One of the most significant ways the Holy Spirit impacts the lives of Christians is through the “spiritual gifts” he bestows on us at our salvation. God’s supreme gift to us is himself. These spiritual “gifts” are means by which we can know our Father better and serve him more effectively. They are to the church what organs and body parts are to the human body. The study of these gifts is the study of the anatomy of the Church, the body of Christ.

Spiritual gifts are God’s way of equipping and enabling us for our world mission and ministry. They are equipment necessary for service. They are bestowed on believers as the Spirit chooses (1 Corinthians 12:11), not as we might wish. They are often given in accordance with natural talents, but always supersede them.

How do we know our gifts? How can we experience daily the power of the Spirit? We’ll close our study by discussing the controversial questions people often ask about him: what are our spiritual gifts? What about “tongues”? What is the “baptism of the Spirit”? How can we be “filled with the Spirit”? Why should we be?

Who is gifted?

The New Testament provides three lists of spiritual gifts (1 Corinthians 12; Romans 12; Ephesians 4). Theologians have classified them as ministry of the word vs. practical ministry; and as motivational, ministering, and manifestational. One wrong classification is to group them in permanent and temporary categories. A good division: Ephesians 4 provides the orders of ministry given the church, while 1 Corinthians 12 and Romans 12 list the gifts themselves.

Here are gifted people, according to Ephesians 4:11. First come “apostles.” Their qualifications (1 Corinthians 9:1; Acts 1:22; 14:4,7) are that they saw Jesus, were witness to the resurrected Christ, and were called by him to this function. The word means “delegate, messenger, one sent forth with orders.” The title came to include more than the original Twelve, as Paul makes clear in greeting Andronicus and Junias, two who are “outstanding among the apostles” (Romans 16:7). Most theologians see the gift or office of “apostle” as one of introducing Christ and his gospel where it has never been preached, and leading churches to do the same.

The second office in Ephesians 4:11 is that of “prophet” (cf. 1 Corinthians 12:10). These were both male and female (cf. Deborah and Miriam in the Old Testament, and Philip’s four daughters who prophesied, Acts 21:9). The emphasis of their ministry was on forth-telling more than fore-telling, though God occasionally gave them messages regarding the future as well as the present. “Evangelists” were the third office, individuals who founded churches as roving ministers. We are all to do the work of evangelism (2 Timothy 2:5), but some are especially gifted for bringing souls to salvation.

The fourth office in Ephesians 4:11 is the “pastor-teacher” (“pastor” and “teacher” in the Greek syntax are one function). They are responsible for protecting, shepherding, and teaching the people of God. They are to “feed and lead” the church of Jesus Christ.

Now we come to individual gifts. Every believer has at least one spiritual gift (1 Corinthians 12:7, 11; Ephesians 4:7), given at his or her salvation. No believer has every spiritual gift (1 Corinthians 12:12, 27, 29-30). Our gifts differ from each other (Romans 12:3-6a).

We receive our gifts according to God’s will, not our own desire or experience (1 Corinthians 12:11; Ephesians 4:7-8).

What are the “spiritual gifts”?

Combining the various lists, we discover these gifts:

administration: organizing people and ministries effectively

apostleship: adapting to a different culture to share the gospel or do ministry

discernment: distinguishing spiritual truth from error or heresy

evangelism: sharing the gospel effectively and passionately

exhortation: encouraging others as they follow Jesus

faith: seeing God’s plan and following it with passion

giving: investing with unusual sacrifice and joy in God’s Kingdom

healing: being used by God to bring physical health in supernatural ways

intercession: praying with unusual passion and effectiveness

interpretation of “tongues”: being used by God to explain to others the message given by the Spirit through “tongues” (see below)

knowledge: discerning and sharing the deep truths of God’s word and will

leadership: motivating and inspiring others to serve Jesus fully

mercy: showing God’s grace to hurting people with unusual passion

miracles: being used by God in ministry which transcends natural explanation

prophecy: preaching the word of God with personal passion and effectiveness

serving: meeting practical needs with unusual sacrifice and joy

shepherding: helping others grow spiritually

speaking in “tongues”: using a God-given spiritual language in prayer and worship

teaching: explaining God’s word and truth with unusual effectiveness

wisdom: relating biblical truth to practical life with great effectiveness

How can you know your gifts?

Some believe that God reveals our spiritual gifts to us directly, as his Spirit speaks to us. Others depend on the insight and opinions of godly believers. Most theologians would add a third approach: give attention to your God-given opportunities for service, and to your interests, passions, and abilities. The Lord typically uses us in ways consistent with our gifting. For instance, if you are often asked into a leadership position, you may well be gifted for that role. The Lord usually gives us a desire to become involved in those ministries for which we are gifted. And he blesses the uses of our gifts, so that we can identify their existence by their effectiveness.

Several “spiritual gifts analysis” tools are available today. The Center for Informed Faith has developed one which is available to you on this website under “Gifts of the Holy Spirit.” As you utilize it or other approaches, know that the Father wants you to discover and use your gifts even more than you do.

And remember: the Lord gives his greatest joy to those who help fulfill his Great Commission. When you find and use your spiritual gifts, you will find the passion, purpose, and peace of God.

The gift of “tongues”

Now we come to a divisive subject. Let’s begin with the Pentecost event we will remember this Sunday:

When the day of Pentecost came, [the first believers] were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them (Acts 2:1-4).

“Pentecostalists” are typically named for their understanding of this event: that when the Spirit came at Pentecost, each Christian began speaking in a “heavenly” or “prayer language,” an “unknown tongue.” If each of them should, each of us should. In this view, if you are a Christian who has not “spoken in tongues,” you have not yet experienced the fullness of the Holy Spirit.

In the late 1970’s, no issue was more divisive for evangelicals than the “Charismatic” movement which advanced this thesis. While divisions regarding this phenomenon seem less intense today, confusion still surrounds the issue.

Should all Christians “speak in tongues”?

The question first arises at Pentecost, when early believers “were filled with the Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit enabled them” (Acts 2:4). It seems clear that the activity of speaking in “other tongues” was a direct result of the Spirit’s work, and that it was experienced by every believer.

Later, the Corinthian Christians experienced an ecstatic kind of spiritual language as one of the Spirit’s gifts (1 Corinthians 12:30; 14:1-25). This gift is usually called speaking in “unknown tongues.” Let’s note the contrast between the two experiences at Pentecost and Corinth:

At Pentecost all spoke in tongues (Acts 2:4); this was not true at Corinth (1 Corinthians 12:30, where the Greek syntax is literally translated, “All do not speak in tongues, do they?”).

At Pentecost these tongues were understood as languages by the crowd (Acts 2:6); at Corinth they were understood by none (1 Corinthians 14:2).

At Pentecost the Christians spoke to men (Acts 2:6); at Corinth, they spoke to God (1 Corinthians 14:2).

At Pentecost no interpreter was needed (Acts 2:6); at Corinth public tongue-speaking was prohibited unless an interpreter was present (1 Corinthians 14:23-28).

At Pentecost there was perfect harmony (Acts 2:1); at Corinth there was confusion (1 Corinthians 14:33).

And so the Corinthian experience was completely different from the Pentecost event. In Jerusalem on Pentecost day, Christians were given the divine ability to share the gospel with the assembled crowds by using known languages which they had not yet learned. At Corinth, believers were given the divine ability to speak to God in a language known only to his Spirit. Nowhere does the Bible teach that all Christians will speak in tongues as did some in Corinth. In fact, it is clear that they will not (1 Corinthians 12:30).

What do we know about “unknown tongues”?

The Pentecost gift is found in Acts 2 and never mentioned or practiced again. However, the “unknown tongues” practiced in Corinth have been a significant part of the Charismatic movement and Pentecostal worship in recent generations.

What can we learn from Scripture about this experience?

Jesus never mentioned this gift.

Numerous conversions occur in Acts without this accompanying sign.

The spiritual gifts are given to the edification of the church (Ephesians 4:12). Any gift which is used to the division of the church rather than for its edification is being abused.

Any person who desires to speak in an “unknown tongue” in public must first determine whether one with the gift of interpretation is present (1 Corinthians 14:27-28). If an interpreter is present, only two or three are to speak, and each in turn (1 Corinthians 14:27).

Tongues are given last in every list where they are found (1 Corinthians 12:8-10, 28-30), and are not included in lists found in Romans 12:6-8 and Ephesians 4:11.

But Paul rejoiced that he spoke in tongues “more than all of you” (1 Corinthians 14:18).

Are “unknown tongues” still a valid gift today?

Some say no. Paul predicted that tongues would “one day cease” (1 Corinthians 13:8), and they are omitted in Ephesians 4 and Romans 12, gift lists written later in the New Testament.

However, 1 Corinthians 13:8 also states, “where there are prophecies, they will cease.” “Prophecies” means preaching; no one claims that preaching has ceased as a spiritual gift and activity. Paul’s reference in 1 Corinthians 13 relates to that time in glory “when perfection comes” (v. 10). And nowhere does the New Testament clearly teach that this gift is temporary.

Some suggest that the reason for the gift ceased at Pentecost, since we are able to translate the gospel into hundreds of languages today. However, such interpretation confuses the Pentecost experience with the Corinthian gift.

Paul wrote: “Tongues, then, are a sign, not for believers but for unbelievers; prophecy, however, is for believers, not for unbelievers” (1 Corinthians 14:22). And so some believe that the purpose of “unknown tongues,” like other “sign gifts” of miracles and healing, is no longer valid today.

In this reasoning, these spiritual gifts existed to show the unbelieving world the truth and veracity of the Christian faith. Now that the New Testament and its church are established, these gifts of persuasion are no longer necessary.

However, no text teaches that this is so. Believers who consider “tongues” to be invalid still pray for God to heal bodies and work other miracles. I can find no biblical warrant for dismissing “tongues” as a valid gift for believers today. When this gift is used within Scriptural guidelines, it apparently draws those who practice it closer to the Father.

So we can conclude that “tongues” are still a valid spiritual gift. But we should also note: no biblical text suggests that “tongues” is a superior spiritual gift, or that it demonstrates that the believer is more “filled” with the Spirit (Ephesians 5:18). We are all to be submitted to the leading of God’s Spirit each day. Then our spiritual gifts will fulfill his purpose, to his glory and our good.

The “baptism” and “filling” of the Spirit

Finally, we come to the most practical dimension of our entire study. A power drill is not much good unless it’s plugged into a power source. You can make a hole in a piece of wood if you try hard enough, but the tool isn’t fulfilling its purpose without its intended power. So it is for all Christians–we cannot accomplish our purpose without the power of the Spirit.

The “filling” of the Holy Spirit is the most crucial experience of the Christian life. Next to our salvation, it is the most important decision we make. And we must make it daily.

Some traditions believe that we can become Christians without experiencing the “baptism” of the Spirit. But Romans 8:9 makes clear that if we do not have the Spirit, we do not belong to Jesus. I believe that the moment we ask Christ to be our Savior and Lord, the Holy Spirit comes to indwell us. In fact, when we “ask Jesus into our hearts,” it is actually the Spirit who answers our prayer.

Unfortunately, while every Christian is “baptized” in the Spirit, not every Christian is “filled” with the Spirit. The command in question is Ephesians 5:18, “Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit.” “Filled’ means “controlled.” The Greek literally says, “be continually being controlled by the Spirit.” This is an ongoing, daily decision we must make.

Why be filled with the Spirit?

When we are living under the control of the Holy Spirit, we are empowered for our purpose and work (Acts 1:8). We find the comfort of Christ (John 14:1,18,27-28). We experience his teaching, counsel, guidance and wisdom (John 14:26). The Spirit anchors, stabilizes, grows, and matures us (Ephesians 4:14-16).

The Spirit then equips us against Satan (Ephesians 6:10-17; 1 John 4:4). And he makes us witnesses to the world (Matthew 28:18-20). Without his power, we cannot fulfill his purpose. With his power, no purpose is beyond our fulfillment.

How are we filled with the Spirit?

Begin at the beginning of the day. A runner does not finish the race and then warm up. We don’t fill the car’s tank after the trip is done. The earlier you give your day to the Spirit, the more of your day he can bless.

First, we must confess our sins, for the “Holy” Spirit cannot control a person in rebellion against the Lord. We can lie against the Spirit (Acts 5:3), grieve him (Ephesians 4:30), and quench his power in our lives (1 Thessalonians 5:19). So get a piece of paper and a pencil, and get alone with God. Ask the Spirit to reveal to your mind anything which is separating you from God. Write down whatever comes to mind, as specifically and honestly as possible. Then confess each sin specifically to God, claim his forgiving grace (1 John 1:9), and throw the paper away. Conduct this “spiritual inventory” regularly.

Next, surrender every dimension of your life to the Spirit. Put him in charge of your plans for the day, your decisions, problems, and opportunities. Ask him to guide your steps and protect your character. Yield all that you will do this day to him.

Now, step out by faith, believing that he has answered your prayer. The Bible nowhere describes how it feels to be filled with the Spirit. It takes just as much faith to believe that the Spirit is controlling your day as it did to ask Jesus to be your Savior.

Here is what will not result from this decision: continuous emotional heights (Ephesians 5:19), permanent filling (Ephesians 5:18), sinless perfection (1 John 1:8), or any particular gift (1 Corinthians 12:29-30). Here are results of this decision as seen in the book of Acts: preaching and witnessing in the power of the Spirit (Acts 2:4ff); gathering in fellowship (2:42,46); performing signs, wonders, and miracles (2:43; 19:11); giving sacrificially to needy brethren (2:44-45); healing the sick and the lame (4:31); adding new believers (2:45; 5:14); expanding the faith and establishing churches in new areas (9:31); maintaining the unity of the believers (4:32); raising the dead (9:36); and defeating Satan and his demons (13:6-12; 16:16).

When we are surrendered to the Spirit, we are empowered for God’s purpose and plan for our lives. And eternity is always affected by our obedience.

Conclusion

We have learned that the Holy Spirit is God indwelling us. He affects and empowers every dimension of our lives. He directs every step and decision of our days. He is the Lord who gives us significance and purpose, life and a future.

We can measure the degree to which we are surrendered to the Spirit by the “fruit” or results which manifest themselves in our lives: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control” (Galatians 5:22). Would those who know you best say that they see the Spirit at work in your life today?

One of my favorite stories concerns a father arriving home from work one day. His two little girls ran to meet him. The five-year-old got to him first, throwing her arms around his legs. Hedges on either side of the sidewalk kept the three-year-old from going around her big sister to her father. Standing on the sidewalk, she began to cry. So her father reached down and picked her up.

The big sister then taunted her little sister, “Ha, ha, ha–I’ve got all of Daddy there is.” The little sister replied, “Ha, ha, ha–Daddy’s got all of me there is.” If Jesus is your Lord, you have all of God there is. Does he have all of you?


Who Will Win The Oscar?

Who Will Win the Oscar?

Matthew 6:1

Dr. Jim Denison

Last Tuesday, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences announced its nominations for this year’s Academy Awards. The winners will each receive something called an “Oscar,” though no one knows why. One possible answer is that early on, the Academy librarian said the statuette resembled her Uncle Oscar.

An Oscar weighs 8.5 pounds and stands 13.5 inches tall. It depicts a knight holding a crusader’s sword, standing on a reel of film. It takes twelve people twenty hours to make one of the 50 statuettes produced each year. The Oscars are then shipped in unmarked cardboard boxes for security reasons, though they were stolen three years ago and found nine days later next to a dumpster.

Last year, 41 million people watched to see who would win an Oscar. On March 23, we’ll watch again. And then forget what we saw. Who won last year? The year before? Who really cares?

However, another performance is being watched every day by an audience of One. You’re on his stage right now. And his judgment will last forever.

This morning we’ll learn that God cares more about our hearts than our hands, our motives more than our methods. His is the only reward which can give us joy, peace, and significance, long after the world’s awards have faded. So, how do we receive his reward, in this life and for all eternity? How do we please our audience of One?

Who is our audience?

Jesus begins: “Be careful.” The words in the original are much stronger; they mean to be on your guard now, to take heed immediately. Jesus sets up a sign along the highway: Don’t go here! Bridge out—falling rock—dead end. Turn back now! When the all-knowing, all-seeing God of the universe warns us not to travel down a road, we want to “be careful.”

Of what? “Not to do your acts of righteousness….”

Jesus refers to the religious activities he’ll address shortly: giving, praying, fasting. But he also means the issues he has just addressed: giving to those who ask, loving our enemy.

He assumes that we’ll do these “acts of righteousness.” The issue is not the action, but the motive. Not the “what” but the “why.”

So here are the key words: “before men, to be seen by them.”

The syntax means, “for the purpose of being seen by men.”

Now the Oscar comes into view: “to be seen by” translates the word theathenai, from which we get “theatrical.” The phrase means “to be theatrical before men” and is best translated, “do not do your acts of righteousness as an actor on a stage, seeking the applause of men as your audience.”

His concern is not with our methods, but our motives. He wants us to work hard and well, so that our world will praise the God whom we serve. Not for our glory, but for his. Not for our applause, but for his alone. Why does he warn us so strongly about this “desire for glory”?

Such pride can corrupt us morally, as we compromise for applause. The Chinese have a proverb, “He who sacrifices his conscience to ambition burns a picture to obtain the ashes.” How many in public life have done this in recent years?

Ego steals our peace and joy. As the story goes, a monk in a wilderness cave was so famous for his holiness that even demons tempting him with great wealth and sensuous pleasure failed. He just sat serenely. So the devil barked, “Step aside, and I will show you what has never failed.” He leaned over to the monk and whispered, “Have you heard the news? Your classmate Makarios has just been named bishop of Alexandria.” And the monk scowled.

Pride causes us to hurt others for our sake. T. S. Eliot was right: “Most of the trouble in the world is caused by people who want to be important.”

Pride hurts us with God, not just with people.

God’s word is clear: “If we live, we live to the Lord; and if we die, we die to the Lord. So, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord” (Romans 14:8); “Whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him” (Colossians 3:17); “Whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31).

Pride keeps God from using us fully. Martin Luther: “God creates out of nothing. Therefore, until a man is nothing, God can make nothing out of him.”

Kenneth Blanchard, co-author of the business classic The One-Minute Manager, says, “I define ego as Edging God Out.”

And Jesus taught us that when we live for the applause of the world more than for God’s glory, “you will have no reward from your Father in heaven” (6.1b). His reward is “an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you” (1 Peter 1:4). His is the reward for which we were made. It alone satisfies the hunger in our souls, the longing for significance and meaning in our hearts. The world’s applause will die as quickly in our lives as at the Oscars. But the reward Jesus gives to those who live for his glory, to please him, is for now and forever.

My favorite story about humility comes from the time Muhammad Ali was about to take off on an airplane. He was in his prime, on top of the world. The flight attendant reminded him to fasten his seat belt, and he said brashly, “Superman don’t need no seat belt.” She came back, “Superman don’t need no airplane, either.” He fasted his belt.

That was then; this is now. The former heavyweight champion of the world was interviewed not long ago. The reporter met him in the barn on his property. His awards, trophies, posters were lying against the barn walls, bird droppings running down them. He could barely speak, and his hands quivered constantly. He gestured to the awards around him and whispered, “Look at all that. It don’t mean nothin’ now.”

What motivates us?

Let’s apply Jesus’ words to our church first, and then to our personal lives. What motivates Park Cities Baptist Church? Who is the audience of our ministries and activities? For whose sake do we do what we do?

Our vision is clear, and given to us by our Lord: “go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19). Disciples are fully-devoted followers of the Lord Jesus. So, we are here to help people follow Jesus.

Our church exists to “help”—to minister, to serve.

To help “people.” Success is not how big our programs become, but how effectively our people follow Christ.

To help people “follow”—as a lifestyle, not just a weekend religion.

To help people follow “Jesus,” to know him personally and eternally.

This is Jesus’ vision, so it must be ours.

Our values are clear.

We exist to evangelize the lost, then equip the saved for their ministries, then engage them in those ministries so they can evangelize the lost.

Remember the difference between evangelism and discipleship: if I won one person a day to Christ for 33 years, 12,045 would be saved. But if I won and discipled one person a year, and they in turn won and discipled another person next year while I did the same, and so on, in 33 years, more than eight billion would be saved.

And our power is clear.

As we exalt Christ, he empowers us to evangelize, equip, and engage. Worship is the center of all we do, for we exist to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength. Only then can we love our neighbor as ourselves. We must worship passionately before we can live biblically, serve joyfully, and love practically.

And so the purpose of worship, as this text makes clear, is not to impress you but to impress God. As Stephen Holcomb has said, worship is encountering God. You are the performers, not the ones on this platform. The sanctuary is the stage; this platform is the sideline, where the coaches stand and help. We send in the plays, but you must perform them. We encourage, but you must exalt. God is your audience of One.

And so we select music and message each week which will best help you encounter God. On some Sundays we use traditional elements; sometimes we use classical elements; sometimes we use more contemporary elements—all depending on the text, or the season of the year, or the world circumstances of that week. Our music and message do not depend on what we on this platform “like,” but on what you need to encounter God that week. We are successful to the degree that you encounter God each week.

Now, is our motive clear? Do we help people follow Jesus for his sake, or for ours? Are we trying to build a bigger church, or a bigger Kingdom? Do we worship for us, or for God? Is our church for us, or for God?

Corrie ten Boom was asked if it was difficult for her to remain humble. Her reply was simple: “When Jesus rode into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday on the back of a donkey, and everyone was waving palm branches and throwing garments on the road, singing praises, do you think that for one moment it ever entered the head of that donkey that any of that was for him? If I can be that donkey on which Jesus Christ rides to his glory, I give him all the praise and honor.” So must we.

Conclusion

Now, let’s close personally. What motivates you? Why do you do your “acts of righteousness”?

Why are you trying to succeed at school? At work? At home? Is it for God’s glory or yours?

Why do you do your “acts of righteousness” at church? Why do you teach your class? Serve on your committee? Perform your ministry? Sing in the choir? Why do I preach? Is it for God’s glory or ours?

John Adams: “I believe that there is no one principle which predominates in human nature so much in every stage of life, from the cradle to the grave, in males and females, old and young, black and white, rich and poor, high and low, as [the] passion for superiority” (David McCullough, John Adams, 170).

The ancient Roman historian Tacitus agreed: “The desire for glory clings even to the best men longer than any other passion.”

If “ego” is “edging God out,” what can we do to prevent this? To be sure that we do our “acts of righteousness” for God’s glory and not our own? I have two suggestions.

First, every time you are tempted to pride yourself in what you do, make the conscious decision to be humble instead. To do this for God’s glory alone. Be intentional about this. Erasmus, the outstanding Reformation-era scholar, offers brilliant advice: “use temptation as a means to virtue. If your inclinations are to be greedy and selfish, increase your donations to charity. If you tend toward boasting, make a deliberate effort to be humble in all things. This way you can find in temptation a renewed determination to increase in piety. This procedure is the one that most galls Satan. It makes him afraid to tempt you because nothing is more hateful to the Author of Evil than that he should be responsible for some good” (Handbook of the Militant Christian, 1503, twelfth rule).

Second, pray about this daily. Jesus stands ready to help you. And you need his help. Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, the great English Bible teacher, prayed every day of his life this prayer: “Lord, keep me from pride.” How long has it been since you made this your prayer?

The largest statue ever carved from a single piece of stone weighed more than two million pounds. It was a figure of Ramses I, the Egyptian Pharaoh who died in 1317 B.C. When the children of Israel left Egypt, they passed his enormous statue.

Who would have dreamed that these ragged former slaves, trudging out into the hardships of the unknown desert, would amount to anything? But today Ramses’ statue lies broken in the sands of Egypt. Meanwhile, the movement God began with those children of Israel, men and women willing to live in God’s will and for his glory, have been used by his hand to change our world forever. To touch your soul and mind. To glorify our Maker and King.

They win the only Oscar that matters. Will you?


Who Will You Bring To Jesus?

Who Will You Bring to Jesus?

Dr. Jim Denison

Luke 14:15-24

Thesis: “Grace is given not because we have done good works,

but in order that we may be able to do them.Augustine

I once heard the famous preacher Frederick Sampson tell about spending a summer on his uncle’s farm. His first morning, his farmer uncle rousted him out of his bed in the hayloft at 4:00 in the morning, and got him busy mucking out stalls, sweeping floors, chopping wood, heating water, doing whatever the house and barn required.

Finally Fred was done. He started back up the ladder to the hayloft to go back to sleep. His uncle stopped him and asked where he was going. Fred said, “I’ve finished my work.” His uncle bent down, put his finger in Fred’s face, and said, “I’m going to tell you something, and don’t you ever forget it. What you do around the house is chores. What you do in the fields is work.”

To extend the Kingdom of God, we must work in the fields. This week’s parable shows us how and why to do this work. But understand: this is a parable of grace, not works. To be invited into the Kingdom is grace. To extend that invitation to others is grace. Augustine was right: “grace is given not because we have done good works, but in order that we may be able to do them.” Here’s how to “do them.”

Look forward to the party

Our text begins: “When one of those at the table with him heard this, he said to Jesus . . .” (Luke 14.15). Luke 14 has already told the story of Jesus’ dinner at the house of a “prominent Pharisee” (v. 1). Here Jesus watched as “the guests picked the places of honor at the table” (v. 7). So he urged his host: “When you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous” (vs. 13-14).

In response to Jesus’ reference to the resurrection, one of the invited guests at the banquet made his exclamation: “Blessed is the man who will eat at the feast in the kingdom of God” (v. 15). The man was well educated in rabbinic theology. The rabbis typically used the banquet table as a symbol for the bliss of heaven (Robertson 197).

They expected that the Messiah “would be a temporal prince, and that his reign would be one of great magnificence and splendor. They supposed that the Jews then would be delivered from all their oppressions, and that, from being a degraded people, they would become the most distinguished and happy nation of the earth. To that period they looked forward as one of great happiness” (Barnes 96).

Jesus did not at all deny the man’s theology. Heaven will in fact be a great feast in the presence of the Lord, for “Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!” (Revelation 19.9). But Jesus corrected the man’s assumption that Jews, and only Jews, would attend the festival. The parable we are studying this week shows who will be part of the great feast, and who will not.

Before we explore Jesus’ story, let’s rejoice in its premise. Heaven will be a party. It will be a celebration, an eternal feast in the presence of our loving Father. It will be glory beyond description, for “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Corinthians 2.9). Those seated at God’s banquet table “will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21.3-4).

One day all of us who know Jesus personally will answer his invitation, “so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom” (Luke 22.30). On that day, “Many will come from the east and the west, and will take their places at the feast with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 8.11).

The kingdom of God is a party. If Jesus is your Lord, you will spend eternity by his side, at his banquet. This is the good news of God.

Come when you’re called

Now, who will attend with you? Jesus’ story begins: “A certain man was preparing a great banquet and invited many guests” (v. 16). In Jesus’ parables the kingdom of God is always central. The hero is always the King. Here, he is the man giving the “great banquet.”

To his festival he “invited many guests.” God “is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3.9). Who can come to his party? “Whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life” (John 3.16). The king wants “many guests” at his table.

So he sent out the first invitation. In ancient Palestine, banquets were announced long before the preparations were finished. There were many factors which affected the actual date and time of the feast. Weather was always a factor in their society, where meals were typically cooked and eaten out of doors. Harvests and the availability of food varied widely. Health issues were harder to resolve. Political circumstances changed often.

And so it was customary to invite people to a feast, then notify those who accepted the invitation when the meal was actually prepared. As people had fewer distractions than we face today, it was far more likely that they would respond to such an immediate notice. And once they had accepted the first invitation to come, they were honor bound to do so (cf. Esther 5.8; Bliss 235; Barclay 192-3).

Now the time was at hand. The master “sent his servant to tell those who had been invited, ‘Come, for everything is now ready'” (v. 17). “Sent” is the word “apostello,” meaning to send as an official and authoritative representative (Rienecker 184; this is the root of the word “apostle”). This servant has come in the name and authority of his master, acting on his behalf. In the same way we are sent to our unbelieving world as “Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us” (2 Corinthians 5.20).

To refuse this servant was to refuse his master, a great and grave insult. But tragically, unbelievably, “they all alike began to make excuses” (v. 18). Every person who had accepted the master’s first invitation now refused to come. Their meal had been cooked, their place prepared, but now they declined.

Three examples of their excuses were offered. The first: “I have just bought a field, and I must go and see it” (v. 18). One typically sees the farm before buying it. Some ancient purchases did require a postpurchase inspection, but it could be done at any time (Boch 252). The field would still be waiting after the banquet was done.

Here is a man who “allowed the claims of business to usurp the claims of God.” Unfortunately, “It is still possible for a man to be so immersed in this world that he has no time for worship, and even no time to pray” (Barclay 194). Jesus gives us the antidote to such materialism: “Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Matthew 6.33).

The second excuse is no better than the first: “I have just bought five yoke of oxen, and I’m on my way to try them out” (v. 19). Most landowners had only one or two oxen; this man is clearly wealthy by ancient standards (Boch 252). He could easily have sent a servant to do this work for him. And he had no reason to hurry. He would have tried the oxen before buying them, or could wait until the banquet was done to do so.

If the first man let materialism keep him from God, the second was the victim of “the claims of novelty”: “It often happens that when people enter into new possessions they become so taken up with them that the claims of worship and of God get crowded out. . . . It is perilously easy for a new game, a new hobby, even a new friendship, to take up the time that should be kept for God” (Barclay 194).

The third excuse is worst of all: “I just got married, so I can’t come” (v. 20). This man knew he would be getting married when he accepted the first invitation to the banquet. An engagement period typically lasted a year or more in ancient Israel, with the date for the actual wedding determined months beforehand. And the new wife would have been happy to go to the feast with her new husband if asked (Robertson 198).

The law excused a man newly married from war (Deuteronomy 24.5), but not from his social obligations. Here a man refuses to honor his commitment to the banquet, and blames his wife for his failure. Barclay is right: “It is one of the tragedies of life when good things crowd out the claims of God. There is no lovelier thing than a home and yet a home was never meant to be used selfishly. They live best together who live with God; they serve each other best who also serve their fellow-men; the atmosphere of a home is most lovely when those who dwell within it remember that they are also members of the great family and household of God” (194).

No wonder the owner of the house “became angry” (v. 21). “Angry” is actually the word for being “enraged” (Bruce 574). His honor has been insulted in the extreme. The entire town knew of his banquet, and would now know of this grave injury to the man’s honor. There is no surprise in his reaction. But his solution to the crisis would surprise every person who heard this parable from our Lord.

From this portion of the parable we learn a significant fact: we must come when God calls us. It is not enough to believe that the owner of the house exists. It is not enough to know that we are invited to his banquet. It is not even enough to decide that we will attend. We must come. We must commit our lives to his call. In this sense, “faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead” (James 2.17).

Invite everyone you know

Have you accepted the invitation of Jesus to his banquet in heaven? Have you made him your Savior and Lord? Have you surrendered your life to his purpose and will? If so, if you know that you will be in paradise with him (Luke 23.43), here’s what you must do now: invite everyone you know to join you there.

The master of the feast “ordered his servant, ‘Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame'” (Luke 14.21). “Go out”—go to them. Don’t wait for them to come. They likely do not know they are welcome at the feast. They have no way to come.

Go “quickly,” urgently. The feast is ready; there is no time to waste. The harvest is white, the time is at hand. This is the only day we have: “Now is the time of God’s favor, now is the day of salvation” (2 Corinthians 6.2). None of us has been promised tomorrow. Go today.

Go to the “streets,” the broad roads traveled by a great variety of people. Go to the “alleys,” the small lanes or side paths (Liefeld 978). Go to all the streets and alleys “of the town.” Those living here likely heard about the feast, and probably envied those invited. But they would never expect to be admitted. Go and give them the good news.

Bring in the “poor,” though Jews thought the impoverished were being punished by God. Bring in the “crippled,” though the physically challenged were barred from full participation in Jewish worship (Rienecker 184-5; cf. Leviticus 21.17-23). Bring in the “blind,” though the Jews saw blindness as a sign of spiritual judgment (cf. John 9.1-3). Bring the “lame,” because they cannot come on their own. None of these unfortunates would ever expect to be welcomed at the estate of this wealthy master. None would come unless invited and brought.

The servant was obedient to his master: “Sir, what you ordered has been done” (v. 22). But this is a great feast, for “there is still room.” This is a banquet “on a grand scale, worthy emblem of the magnificence of Divine grace” (Bruce 574).

There is still room indeed. And we are grateful: “What a sad message it would be if we were compelled to go and say, ‘There is no more room—heaven is full—not another one can be saved. No matter what their prayers, or tears, or sighs, they cannot be saved. Every place is filled, every seat occupied.’ But, thanks be to God, this is not the message which we are to bear; and if there yet is room, come, sinners, young and old, and enter into heaven. Fill up that room, that heaven may be full of the happy and the blessed. If any part of the universe is to be vacant, O let it be the dark world of woe!” (Barnes 98).

There will be room at this table for “a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb” (Rev 7.9). There is room at this table for all who will come to the mercy of God.

Now the servant was sent to “the roads and country lanes” (v. 23). The “roads” were the main streets leading from town to town. The “country lanes” were hedges, footpaths between fields. These hedges were typically made of thorns, planted thick to keep cattle out of the vineyard. Those who lived and worked there would be poor laborers, the lowest class, people of great poverty (Barnes 98).

Those the servant would find on these roads and lanes would be people who did not know the host at all. They had no idea of his existence or his invitation (Boch 253). Jesus’ immediate reference may have been to the Gentiles who lived outside the Jewish community (Bruce 574). In a larger sense, the parable points us to those who have heard of our master (in the “town”) and those who have not. Every person is invited.

The servant was told to “make them come in, so that my house will be full” (Luke 14.23). The word “make” is the word for “compel.” But it does not mean to cause a person to come against his or her will. It means to persuade, to convince, to motivate. It is found in Matthew 14.22, “Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side”; it is found in Acts 26.11, “I tried to force them to blaspheme”; and in Galatians 6.12, “trying to compel you to be circumcised.”

This text must never be used to justify religious persecution. We cannot coerce people into the Christian faith. Tragically, Augustine and others used it as a pretext for such religious coercion, and it was later cited in defending the Inquisition and other campaigns against “heretics” (Barclay 193).

The meaning is simple: we must do all we can to encourage people to attend the banquet in heaven with us. We must not accept excuses. Just as a physician would not let a man dying of cancer excuse himself from treatment, so we must not allow our friends and family to excuse themselves from the kingdom of God. At the end of the day, the decision must be theirs. But we will do all we can to help them make the right choice.

With this result: “so that my house will be full. I tell you, not one of those men who were invited will get a taste of my banquet” (Luke 14.23-24). If we will not come to Jesus while on earth, we cannot be with him in heaven, for “man is destined to die once and after that to face judgment” (Hebrews 9.27).

Philip Yancey tells the story of just such an unusual wedding banquet, from the Boston Globe’s account in June of 1990. A woman, accompanied by her fiancé, went to the Hyatt Hotel in downtown Boston to order the wedding meal. They arranged for an expensive party, with a bill of $13,000. After leaving a check for half the amount as a down payment, they went home to look at wedding announcements.

The day the announcements were supposed to be mailed, the groom got cold feet. “I’m just not sure,” he said. “It’s a big commitment. Let’s think about this a little longer.”

His angry fiancée returned to the Hyatt to cancel the banquet, to discover that she had signed a binding contract and could only receive $1,300 back. She had two options: go ahead with the banquet, or forfeit the rest of her down payment. The jilted bride made a wonderful decision: she turned her banquet into a real party.

Ten years before, this woman had been living in a homeless shelter. Now, after years of hard work and progress, she had a sizeable nest egg. She decided to use her savings to treat those who were where she had been.

So it was that in June of 1990 the Hyatt Hotel in downtown Boston hosted a memorable party. The hostess changed the menu to boneless chicken, “in honor of the groom.” She sent invitations to rescue missions and homeless shelters. That warm summer night, people who expected to peel half-gnawed pizza off cardboard dined instead on chicken cordon bleu. Hyatt waiters in tuxedoes served hors d’oeuvres to senior adults walking on crutches and canes. Bag ladies, vagrants, and drug addicts took one night from the hard life of the streets outside and instead sipped champagne, ate chocolate wedding cake, and danced late into the night.

And so will we, one day. Who will join you? When you see Jesus at his table, he will ask, “Who did you bring me?” What will be your answer?

To extend the kingdom of God, invite everyone you know to its banquet. Tell your friends and family that it will be a joyful, eternal feast. Do all you can to convince them to join you at the table. Pray for those you don’t know. Support missionaries and ministries which will reach them. Go yourself. Do all you can to bring as many to Jesus as you can. And you will spend eternity in the joyful knowledge that others are in heaven because God used you.

The rabbis had a story which seems appropriate as a footnote to Jesus’ parable. A man died and went to heaven. Before he entered, he told the Lord that he had always been curious about hell. He wondered if he could see it before he entered heaven. So the Lord sent the man with an angel to hell.

The man walked into a banquet hall, and found a table heaped to overflowing with every kind of good food. Seated around it were thousands and thousands of people, starving to death. He couldn’t understand why, until he watched them eat. Each had a long wooden spoon. The spoon was so long that when the people used it to pick up food, they couldn’t get it to their mouths. They would spend eternity so close to food, and yet starving.

The man was horrified, and implored the angel to take him to heaven. So he did. There the man found another banquet table, identical to the one in hell. Heaped to overflowing with every kind of good food, surrounded by people with the same long spoons he had seen in hell. But these people looked well fed and happy. He couldn’t understand, until he watched them eat.

The people in hell tried to feed themselves. The people in heaven fed each other.


Why a Good God Lets Bad Things Happen

Why a Good God Lets Bad Things Happen

Studies in the Book of Revelation

Dr. Jim Denison

Revelation 6-9

An outline of Revelation (placing our study in context)

I. Prologue (1.1-18)

A. Preface (1.1-3)

B. Author and recipients (1.4-5)

C. Doxology (1.6-8)

II. The first vision (1.9-3.22): the glory of Christ and letters to his churches

A. The vision of the risen Christ and commission of the book (1.9-20)

B. The letters to the seven churches (chs. 2-3)

III. The second vision (4.1-16.21): judgments on the evil powers of the world

A. The vision of God in heaven (ch. 4)

B. The seven seals (5.1-8.1)

1. The vision of the Lamb (ch. 5)

2. The first six seals opened (ch. 6)

3. The “sealing” of 144,000 (ch. 7)

4. The seventh seal opened (8.1)

C. The seven trumpets (8.2-11.19)

1. The trumpets introduced (8.2-5)

2. The first six trumpets sounded (8.6-9.21)

3. Interlude: the mighty angel and the little scroll (ch. 10)

4. The two witnesses (11.1-14)

5. The seventh trumpet (11.15-19)

D. The seven signs (12.1-14.20)

1. The woman (12.1-2)

2. The dragon (12.3-13.1)

3. The beast out of the sea (13.1-10)

4. The beast out of the earth (13.11-18)

5. The Lamb and the 144,000 (14.1-5)

6. The three angels (14.6-13)

7. The harvest of the earth (14.14-20)

E. The seven plagues (15.1-16.21)

1. Preparations (ch. 15)

2. The seven bowls of God’s wrath (ch. 16)

IV. The third vision (17.1-21.8): victory over the evil powers of the world

A. The mystery of Babylon (ch. 17)

B. The fall of Babylon (ch. 18)

C. The praise of heaven (19.1-10)

D. The victory of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords (19.11-21)

E. The millennium (20.1-6)

F. Satan’s final doom (20.7-10)

G. The judgment of the dead (20.11-15)

V. The fourth vision (21.1-22.21): the future blessing of the faithful

A. The new creation (21.1-8)

B. The new Jerusalem (21.9-27)

C. The river of life (22.1-6)

D. The promise of Jesus’ imminent return (22.7-21)

God rules the elements (Revelation 6)

Note that all seven seals must be broken before the scroll itself can be opened; thus these are preliminary signs before the final stages of the kingdom can be revealed. These seals parallel closely Matthew 24.1-35 and Mark 13.1-37, and correspond to the “beginning of birth pains” Jesus describes in the Olivet discourse.

These events could begin in John’s time, and extend to the end of history (cf. 1 John 2.18: “Dear children, this is the last hour; and as you have heard that the antichrist is coming, even now many antichrists have come. This is how we know it is the last hour”).

The first seal: the white horse (1-2)—conquest

Hal Lindsey: the white horse represents an European Antichrist who is going to head up the Common Market in Europe from the city of Rome. Many interpreters believe this rider is Christ or his cause on earth. White is commonly a symbol in Revelation for Christ or spiritual victory (cf. Revelation 1.14, 2.17, 3.4-5, 4.4, 7.9, 20.11). No “woe” is mentioned as with the other riders.

My interpretation is this rider represents the conquest of the Roman Empire. The Parthians were the Romans’ most dreaded enemies, and their rulers rode white horses.

Their warriors used a bow; the Romans did not. Their rulers wore crowns; the Romans did not. And so Jesus is promising these persecuted Christians that their persecutors will one day be destroyed, and their faith will be vindicated.

The second seal: the red horse (3-4)—war

Hal Lindsey contends that this is Russia, making alliance with the Arabs to invade Israel; he bases this assumption primarily upon the color of Russia’s flag and nationality. However, red is the typical apocalyptic color for judgment and wrath. The rider’s power to “take peace from the earth” makes clear that war will follow conquest in the future of the Empire.

The third seal: the black horse (5-6)—famine

War creates famine. The costs reflected in the text are twelve times the normal prices for food.

The fourth seal: the pale horse (7-8)—death

“Pale” denotes a yellowish green, the paleness of a dying person. His name and work show that death follows the conquest, war, and famine which will come to the Empire.

Hal Lindsey and others interpret these “riders” as doing their work only at the end of history (Lindsey interprets vs. 7-8 as the results of a nuclear war). But most commentators through Christian history have seen these as warnings of coming catastrophe for the persecuting Roman Empire, and assurance to the Christians that their future is secure in an insecure world.

The fifth seal: the martyrs (9-11)

Some interpret these verses to speak of those martyred for their faith during the Great Tribulation. Others point out the fact that if the Spirit is “raptured” during this Tribulation, how could people become believers and then be martyred?

The verb tenses seem to indicate that these are those who have already been martyred by the time John writes Revelation. Thus this passage refers to first-century Christians who have died for their faith. They seek vengeance from God, in keeping with Scripture: “Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge, I will repay,’ says the Lord” (Romans 12.19). They are given the white robes of victory and promised that judgment will one day come to their enemies.

The sixth seal: the earthquake (12-17)

Some see these as signs of the end of history; others as symbols of ongoing tribulation until Christ finally returns. Note the non-rational nature of these symbols: “the stars in the sky fell to earth” (v. 13), but our planet is smaller than any one of these stars; “the sky receded like a scroll” (v. 14) and “every mountain and island was removed from its place” (v. 14), yet people hide among the “rocks of the mountains” (v. 15). And later “a third of the stars” turn dark (8.12), though all of them have already fallen to earth (6.13).

John is using apocalyptic language of judgment: “earthquakes” (from Ezekiel 39.18, Isaiah 2.19, Haggai 2.6), “sun” blackened and “moon” like blood (cf. Joel 2.31, Ezekiel 32.7), and “stars” falling (cf. Isaiah 34.4, Nahum 3.12).

Rather than interpreting these verses as literal descriptions of physical events, it seems more in keeping with John’s first-century intent and apocalyptic tradition to see these as symbols of divine wrath on the Romans and all who oppose God’s Kingdom.

God protects his own (Revelation 7)

Four angels hold back the four winds of the earth (1): In the midst of such judgment, God makes clear the fact that he shelters and protects his own people. The Jewish people pictured the angels as controlling the winds; so here.

144,000 are sealed with the “seal of the living God” (2-8): Hal Lindsey sees these as Jewish converts to Christ shortly after the rapture. Again we must ask how people could be converted without the presence of the Holy Spirit on earth. Lindsey argues that these Jewish converts in turn evangelize the world, resulting in the “great multitude” described in verses. 9 and following.

Others suggest that this number represents Jewish Christians, and the “great multitude” Gentile converts. This view does not connect their conversion with the rapture. But note that no distinction between Jewish and Gentile Christians is suggested in the rest of the New Testament. To the contrary, in Christ there is “neither Jew nor Greek” (Galatians 3.28).

So I would consider this number to be apocalyptic symbolism for all of God’s people. It is the multiple of the square of twelve and the square of ten, representing completeness. Note that all people in heaven have God’s name written on their foreheads in Revelation 22.4; the “sealing” here is of all peoples as well. This “seal” marks them as the possession of God in the midst of persecution and suffering. It claims them as the children of the Lord.

The great multitude stands in worship (9-17): This multitude is from every “people group” in the ancient world—nation, tribe, people, and language. They wear white robes of victory, and hold palm branches used in the Roman world to celebrate conquerors (cf. Jesus’ Palm Sunday). The angels and elders join them in worshipping God and their seven-fold psalm of praise.

They have come out of “the great tribulation” (v. 14): Here is found the term used by many for the seven years they believe will follow the “rapture.” But the term is not here connected with any specific time period. And interpreted in its context, it probably refers simply to the suffering of believers in John’s time and in all time.

God judges the unrepentant (Revelation 8-9)

The seventh seal: Silence in heaven, “an attitude of trembling suspense on the part of the heavenly hosts in view of the judgments of God which are about to fall upon the world” (Newport, Lion and the Lamb, 201). Leads to the seven trumpets, which will proclaim further judgment against the enemies of God. Involves incense before the altar of God (1-5), again connected with the prayers of the saints (see 5.8).

The first four trumpets judge nature: hail and fire (6-7), a mountain thrown into the sea (8-9), a star falling from the sky (10-11), and a third of the heavenly lights struck (12). A “third” of the natural world is affected by each of these trumpets; the “third” was a Jewish idiom for “a large part.”

Note the non-rational nature of this event: “all the green grass was burned up” (v. 7), but in 9.4 the “locusts” are told “not to harm the grass of the earth or any plant or tree.” These events could be seen as literal prediction of future disasters, but it is noteworthy that they suggest natural calamities which had all occurred in recent memory in the first century.

Mount Vesuvius had erupted in AD 79, destroying Herculaneum, Pompeii and many small villages, and leaving a permanent memory of horror and destruction in the minds of the Romans.

The island volcano Santorin had also erupted, leaving the suggestion of a burning mountain, destroying vegetation, killing fish in the seas, and turning waters red like blood.

And so God “is saying to them, ‘I have the means of destroying your enemies'” (Summers, Worthy is the Lamb, 157).

The eagle pronounces woes (13), connecting the coming trumpets to human judgment and justice.

The fifth trumpet/first woe: plague of locusts (9.1-12). Joel 2.1-11 describes the Day of the Lord as a devastating plague of locusts. These insects were the most feared enemies of ancient farmers, who had no way to prevent their attack and no means of preserving their crops from it.

The “bottomless pit” from which the locusts originate is a provisional place of punishment for Satan until the end when he is thrown into the “lake of fire”; it is also the abode of the beast or Antichrist (11.7). And so these locusts seem to be identified with demonic attack against humanity. They “torture” people (v. 5) but are not allowed to kill them (cf. Satan’s attack against Job and God’s preservation of his life, Job 2.6). They are not allowed to attack God’s people (v. 4), showing that God is able to preserve his followers from all his enemies.

Their description has been interpreted by Lindsey to represent army helicopters, but a more natural first-century view would be that these demonic “locusts” are given the most dreadful characteristics imaginable. Their leader is named “Destroyer,” descriptive of their work (cf. Jesus’ statement: “the thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy,” John. 10.10).

The sixth trumpet/second woe: the attack of the four angels (13-21). The angels come from the region beyond “the great river Euphrates” (v. 14). To ancient Israel, this region reminded them of Assyria, the nation which destroyed the Northern Kingdom. Their location would suggest divine wrath and judgment. 200,000,000 mounted troops are described as well.

Hal Lindsey sees this as the armed militia of China, and the horses described as mobilized ballistic missile launchers. But others have pointed out the fact that an army of this size could not be conscripted or moved (the total armed forces involved in World War II was 70 million). This number is better understood as symbolic of heavenly or demonic host (cf Psalm 68.17, 2 Kings 2.11-12). Their purpose is clear: to expose the defiance and sinfulness of those who have rejected God’s purpose for their lives (vs. 20-21).

Gibbon’s The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire documents the fact that three things combined to overthrow the Roman Empire: natural calamity, external invasion, and internal moral decay. We see all three at work in chapters 8-9, giving hope to the persecuted Christians of John’s day that the Empire would one day fall while God’s Kingdom succeeds and grows.

God is sovereign over all the affairs of life: moral, natural, spiritual. hose who reject his will and purpose will face ultimate judgment and punishment. God protects his own and promises them eternal reward for their faithfulness.


Why Believe The Bible

Why believe the Bible?

Dr. Jim Denison

The question came from nowhere. I was leading a youth Bible study one Wednesday night when a high school freshman asked me, “How do you know the Bible came from God?” The look in his eyes showed how serious he was. His father was a Sunday school teacher and leader in our church, but that wasn’t good enough. Nor should it have been.

He wanted to know for himself. He explained his question: “Did the Bible just drop out of heaven? How do you know that someone didn’t just sit down a hundred years ago and write the whole thing? Where did it come from?”

That’s a good question. A few days later at work, a friend and I got into a discussion about my faith and he asked, “Why do you trust the Bible? After all those centuries of copying, surely you don’t think you have what was first written. How can you trust it today?” Another good question.

Maybe you’ve asked questions like these yourself, or you’ve tried to answer them for someone else. The fact is, not many Christians know where the Bible came from. The making of God’s word is a neglected subject for many, and a real problem for others. So it’s important that we learn how God’s word came to us, and why we should trust it today.

In a world which considers “truth” to be personal and subjective, “the Bible says” is seldom definitive proof that our beliefs are right. Many consider the Bible to be outdated and irrelevant. Some reading this essay today may wonder why you should treat the Bible as your life authority, not just your Sunday religion. And we all know someone with such a faith issue.

Where did the Bible come from? Why should we believe it to be God’s word?

Writing in ancient times

The first step to making the Bible seems obvious: God’s word was preserved in writing. However, there’s much more to this first step than you might think. In the ancient world writing was an expensive, laborious process. Books had to be written and copied by hand (the first printed book was completed until around AD 1455). The postal systems of the Roman Empire generally were restricted to government use, so the biblical authors had to find special travelers or messengers to carry their writings. Everything about ancient books was different from today, from their languages to the ways they were produced.

What materials were used by the first biblical authors? Paul gives us a clue. The apostle was locked away in a cold, damp Roman prison. When he wrote to Timothy, his young apprentice, he could have asked for anything. Better food, more companions, lawyers to plead his case, the church to rally to his defense. Instead, here is his personal appeal: “When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, and my scrolls, especially the parchments” (2 Timothy 4:13). What were his “scrolls” and “parchments”? Why did they matter so much to history’s greatest apostle?

The materials of the Bible

Scrolls were made of papyrus, the most prevalent “paper” in the ancient world. As we noted in the introduction, the papyrus reed grew along the Nile River in Egypt and in other marshy places. It was cut, unrolled, and left to dry in the sun. Strips were laid horizontally, then others overlaid vertically. They were woven and glued together, constituting the most common and inexpensive writing material of the day. These sheets were then sewn or glued together into scrolls.

A more expensive and durable writing material was parchment, named for the region of Pergamum in Asia Minor (modern-day western Turkey) where it was developed. This was manufactured from animal skins, usually sheep or goats (vellum). Parchment was perfected around 200 B.C., but was too heavy and expensive for common use. Like papyrus, it was often rolled into scrolls.

Reeds were used as brushes, with a kind of carbon-liquid glue as ink. Such pen and ink was employed with papyrus and parchment.

The original books of the Bible were apparently all written on papyrus. Since this first “paper” decayed quickly, none of these original writings exist today. The same is true for the writings of Plato, Aristotle, or Julius Caesar. We simply don’t have the originals of ancient books, but must rely on copies made through the centuries.

Around A.D. 100, people began cutting scrolls into sheets and stitching them together. The result was the “codex,” the ancestor to our “book.” Codexes using parchment are the earliest copies of the complete New Testament which we have today.

The scrolls and parchments Paul requested were his Bible and his books. They were the earliest form of the Scriptures we cherish and study today. If you were locked away on death row, would they be your first request?

The languages of the Bible

God’s word has come to us in three original languages. Hebrew is the oldest of the three, the language used for most of the Old Testament. It is written from right to left, with no upper or lower cases or vowels. Centuries later, scribes added the vowels (called “points”) we have in the Hebrew Bible today.

Aramaic was a descendent of Hebrew. It was the common spoken language of the Jews toward the end of the Old Testament era, and was the typical language of Jesus’ culture. It is found in the Old Testament in Ezra 4:8-6:18, where the author draws on documents exchanged by the Persian king and his subjects; 7:12-26, recording a letter from the Persian king to Ezra; and Daniel 2:4-7:28, where the narrative deals with subjects important to Gentiles and was thus written in their language.

Jesus and his disciples could read Hebrew. For instance, Jesus read from the Isaiah scroll, written in Hebrew, before preaching at Nazareth (Luke 4:17-19). However, they typically spoke in Aramaic. We still find Aramaic words in the Gospels—“Abba” for Father (Mark 14:36), and “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani!” (“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me!”, Mark 15:34), for instance.

Greek was the universal written language of the Roman Empire, and thus the language in which the entire New Testament was written. There were two kinds of Greek in the first century—the classical language employed by the cultured, and the “koine” (“common”) Greek used by the masses.

A century ago, scholars were confused by the contrast between the Greek of the New Testament and that found in the classical writers. German theologian Richard Rothe went so far as to call New Testament Greek a “language of the Holy Ghost.” But then archaeologists began discovering scraps of papyrus and pieces of pottery from the first century, written in the more common language of the people. Shopping lists, personal letters, wills and documents came to light. And their language was strikingly similar to that of the New Testament.

Today scholars rank the New Testament documents on a spectrum relative to “koine” and classical Greek literature. The Gospels are the most “common” in nature, containing so much of Jesus’ discourse with the masses and intended for the widest distribution. 1 Peter (recorded by Silvanus from dictation by Peter) and Hebrews are the most classical works in the New Testament. Luke and Acts are somewhere in the middle, employing excellent literary style but recording events using the speech with which they occurred.

William Barclay concludes, “It is worthwhile remembering that the New Testament is written in colloquial Greek; it is written in the kind of Greek a man in the street wrote and spoke in the first century…Anything that makes the New Testament sound other than contemporary mistranslates it.”

It is a miracle that God could take on human flesh, that the Creator would enter his Creation. It is no less a miracle that he would give us his revelation in our language. That the Lord of the universe would write a book we could read. But this is precisely what he has done. The wisdom of the ages has been transmitted on papyrus and parchment, in human languages through human instruments. We could not climb up to God, so he climbed down to us.

Getting as close as possible

Now, how can we be sure that we have what he wrote? As we have noted, no original documents for any ancient book exist today. Imagine storing newspaper in the elements for a year, much less a century or millennium. In addition, there was no way to distribute the biblical writings apart from hand copying. In the era before movable printing, scribes were the first publishers. How do we know that they copied the Bible accurately?

The work of textual critics

“Textual critics” are scholars who devote themselves to studying copies of ancient literature, seeking to develop a version that is as close to the original as possible. Textual critics work with the manuscripts of Shakespeare, for instance, debating which passages came from the playwright himself, which to attribute to Christopher Marlowe, and so on. Scholars study the copies of works by Plato and Aristotle, seeking to determine which is closest to the originals.

Textual critics do the same hard, crucial work with the Scriptures. They may or may not be people of faith. Their work is scientific and precise, not guided by personal spiritual presuppositions. We can trust their conclusions as the product of objective scholarship.

Textual criticism works best when two circumstances prevail: numerous ancient copies, as close in time to the original writings as possible. The fewer the ancient copies, the less material the scholars have to use. The larger the gap between the original and our earliest copies, the greater margin for undiscoverable error in transmission.

The Bible and other ancient literature

What copies of famous ancient literature do we possess today? Caesar’s Gallic Wars was composed between 58 and 50 B.C. Our oldest copies of it were made 900 years later; we have only nine or ten good manuscripts. As a result, we have no independent verification for much of Caesar’s descriptions except the book itself. And historians debate the degree to which we can trust the copies we possess.

Tacitus was the most famous historian of ancient Rome. His descriptions of first-century life in the Empire are considered the most authoritative histories we have. However, of the 14 books of his Histories, only four and one-half survive today. Our earliest copies were made 900 years after the originals.

The History of Thucydides was written around 400 B.C. Our earliest complete manuscript dates to 1,300 years later. We have only five or so copies of any work of Aristotle (384-322 B.C.), the earliest of which was made 1,400 years after the originals.

By contrast, our oldest complete New Testament was made just 300 years after the original. The Chester Beatty papyrus contains a section from John 18, and dates to A.D. 130 (just 35 or so years after John’s original). We have thousands of other parts of the New Testament in papyrus sections. And the letters of first- and second-century Christians. In fact, we can reconstruct most of the New Testament just from these ancient letters.

No other ancient book comes close to the Bible with regard to the number and quality of manuscript copies in existence today. The sheer weight of evidence is strongly in favor of biblical trustworthiness and authority.

Studying the copies we have

Historians possess more than 5,000 various Greek manuscripts of the New Testament, and more than 10,000 copies in other ancient languages. They classify these copies by age and writing materials, and whether they used upper or lower case letters. They also group manuscripts by the geographic centers where they were produced—Alexandria, Egypt; Caesarea in Palestine; Antioch of Syria; Constantinople; and Rome.

Textual critics consider a number of factors in determining which manuscripts are oldest and closest to the originals. They examine the chronological appearance of the document—its apparent age and the period when it first came into use. They investigate the geographical circulation of the manuscript, the extent of its usage, and the number of times the document was copied, on the assumption that the more widely accepted the document, the more likely it was considered reliable by its audience. They look for agreement between the manuscript and quotations found in the church fathers.

And they investigate the historical “genealogy” of the manuscript’s textual tradition. Scholars know that documents originating in Alexandria, for instance, possess certain advantages and flaws. Each geographic center manifests its own techniques and characteristics in copying and transmission.

Unintentional errors

Much of the work of textual critics consists in identifying the presence of scribal, editorial, and/or translator errors. Scholars have identified four kinds of unintentional errors as most common, and watch for them with special interest.

Some mistakes arose from faulty eyesight—failing to distinguish between similar letters and similar errors. For instance, the Hebrew “y” (yodh) looks much like the “w’ (waw). And the Greek capital letters for epsilon (made as a rounded E) and theta (an oval with a line in the middle) are very similar when handwritten.

“Haplography” occurred when a scribe wrote once what should have been written twice (like “occurence” for “occurrence” or “maping” for “mapping” in English). “Dittography” occurred when the scribe wrote twice what should be written only once. And “metathesis” resulted from changing the proper order of letters or words.

A second kind of error resulted from faulty hearing, when the scribe made copies from dictation or even pronounced the words to himself as he wrote them. “Homophony” occurred when the scribe wrote a wrong word which sounded the same as the correct term (like “two” for “to” in English).

A third category of scribal mistakes was errors of the mind. The scribe held a phrase in his memory as he copied it, and sometimes transposed or missed letters or words as a result. Mistakes of this type fall into several categories:

• “Metatheis,” when the scribe changed the proper order of letters or words.

• “Fusion,” combining the last letter of a word with the first letter of the following word, or combining two words into one.

• “Fission,” the improper separation of one word into two.

• “Homoeoteleuton,” when a phrase ends in a certain way, a scribe can miss that which follows if the concluding phrase also ends in the same way. When the scribe looked from the original to the copy he was writing, then looked back to the original, his eyes could easily fall on the latter ending and miss that which came in between.

• “Homoearkton,” the loss of intervening words if two phrases begin in the same way.

A fourth kind of unintentional error resulted from mistakes in scribal judgment. Words and notes made in the margin of the older copy were sometimes incorporated into the text of the new manuscript. Scribes would occasionally copy across two columns of a text, rather than working down the passage a column at a time.

Intentional changes

At times, scribes tried to “clean up” the text before them by making deliberate changes to the manuscript at hand. If a scribe felt the style of his text could be improved, he would sometimes make grammatical “corrections.” Parallel texts in the gospels were often harmonized to agree completely with each other. New Testament quotes of Old Testament texts were “improved” to conform to the Septuagint (the Greek Old Testament).

“Conflation” was a common problem. When a scribe worked from two or more manuscripts and found variant readings, he would sometimes include both in his copy. And some scribes added doctrinal statements according to their convictions. For instance, one amended Luke’s statement, “It seemed good also to me to write an orderly account” (Lk. 1:3) to read, “It seemed good also to me and to the Holy Spirit” (following Acts 15:28, “It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us…”).

Determining the best manuscripts

We should expect such errors to creep into the handwritten copies of any ancient book. And the more copies we have, the more likely it is that we will find such errors. Watching for such common mistakes is the first step to finding them in a particular text. Then scholars are able to correct these mistakes, developing a text which is as close to the original as possible.

How do textual critics do this work? They follow certain established rules. Here is the procedure for the Old Testament suggested by Ernst Wurthwein and followed widely by scholars:

• When the Masoretic Text (MT, the most reliable OT text) has been preserved without a variant, and there are no other manuscripts which differ, we must accept the reading as proper.

• When the MT and other manuscripts support different readings, the MT is to be preferred wherever appropriate.

• When the MT and other manuscripts support different but apparently equally possible or plausible readings, determine which reading is more difficult (see below) or most likely explains the other versions.

• Pay close attention to psychological and/or theological reasons why a particular scribe or school might preserve the text in a particular way.

• When no clear conclusion can be made based on manuscript evidence, suggest a conjectural solution which seems closest to the authorial intention of the text.

In describing the work of New Testament textual criticism, Bruce Metzger outlines the procedures typically followed. First, consider external evidence. How old is the document? What type does it embody? Next, examine the text itself. In general, when variances occur we are to prefer the more difficult reading.

We assume that the scribe would more likely resolve apparent contradictions within the text. For instance, when we find two versions of a text within Matthew’s Gospel, one of which seems less likely to come from Matthew’s pen, we should assume that it did.

We are to prefer the shorter reading to the longer, assuming that the scribes would more likely add explanatory phrases than omit portions of the text. We will assume that a version which harmonizes parallel accounts is more likely the product of scribal changes than one which is distinct from the other versions.

In addition, we are to consider:

• The style and vocabulary of the author throughout his work.

• The immediate context.

• Harmony with the usage of the author elsewhere, and in the Gospels.

• The Aramaic background of Jesus’ teaching.

• The priority of the Gospel according to Mark (probably the first to be written).

• The influence of the Christian community upon the formulation and transmission of the passage in question.

With these rules in place, textual critics go about the painstaking task of comparing the multiplied thousands of ancient copies of Scripture. And the result: we have a Bible which is trustworthy in every matter of faith and practice.

The Dead Sea Scrolls

As a case in point, consider the Dead Sea Scrolls. Prior to their discovery in the caves at Qumran, the oldest complete copy of the Old Testament known to scholars dated to the tenth century. When a shepherd looking for a lost sheep found the first of the scrolls in 1947, the most dramatic discovery in the history of biblical archaeology and manuscripts resulted. We now possess Old Testament manuscripts dating back to the first century before Christ. The Scrolls contain every book of the Old Testament except Esther. They take us a thousand years closer to the originals.

How close was the Masoretic Text to these documents? In other words, how accurate were the scribes who copied the text for a thousand years? The results are amazing. There is word-for-word accuracy in more than 95 percent of the texts. The variations which remain are the results of obvious scribal errors. For instance, translators of the Revised Standard Version made only 13 changes from the Masoretic Text for Isaiah, none affecting faith and practice.

It is clear that the scribes who transmitted the Bible across the centuries before printing was available did their work with astounding accuracy. Their work, while not perfect, was far closer than the manuscript copyists for any other ancient book. With the help of textual scholars, we today possess an Old Testament which is virtually identical to the originals. And the Greek New Testament we have today is likewise accurate and trustworthy.

So far we’ve learned how the writings we call the Bible were created, and why the copies we have today are trustworthy. There’s far more to the subject, as we’ll see. In the meanwhile, let’s cut to the bottom line: the best way to discover if you can trust the word of God is to meet its Author.

Years ago a popular magazine printed on its cover, “God is Dead.” A reporter asked Billy Graham if it was true. Dr. Graham smiled and replied, “No, he’s not dead—I spoke with him this morning.” Have you?

How were the biblical books chosen?

One of the popular objections to biblical authority is that the books were chosen in a smoke-filled room for political purposes. For instance, Dan Brown’s The DaVinci Code asserts that Constantine chose them in his political desire to deify Christ and unify the Roman Empire. The real story is nowhere near that interesting.

Why these books?

The first step toward a “canon” for the Christian Scriptures came about as the result of a crisis. Around AD 140, a wealthy ship-owner named Marcion came to believe that Christians should reject the entirety of the Hebrew Bible as legalism. He adopted Pauline theology so fully that he thought most of the other Christian writings should be ignored. His list of accepted books included ten of Paul’s letters (he omitted 1 and 2 Timothy and Titus) and a copy of Luke’s gospel which he edited to reflect Pauline emphases.

Orthodox Church leaders acted quickly to affirm all four gospels, and all of Paul’s letters. But the crisis showed the need for the church to make a more formal list of accepted Christian Scriptures. Over time, four criteria were developed for accepting a book as inspired.

First, the book must have been written by an apostle or based on his eyewitness testimony. Gnostic writings were gaining more and more attention at this time, reflecting a heretical theology which separated the body from the spirit. Some of the Gnostic “gospels” were purported to be written by apostles such as Thomas and Peter. In response, church leaders quickly adopted the position that a canonical book must be the clear product of an actual apostle, or based on his eyewitness accounts.

Matthew the tax-collector was a disciple of Jesus before he wrote his gospel, as was John. Mark was an early missionary associate of Paul (Acts 13:4-5) and was a spiritual son to Peter (1 Peter 5:13); early Christians believed that he wrote his gospel based on the sermons and experiences Peter related to him.

Luke was a Gentile physician who joined Paul’s second missionary journey at Troas (note Acts 16:10, where Luke changes the narrative from “they” to “we”). He wrote his gospel and the book of Acts based on the eyewitness testimony of others (Lk 1:1-4). Paul’s letters came from an eyewitness to the risen Christ (cf. Acts 9:1-6), as did the works of James (half-brother of Jesus), Peter, Jude (another half-brother of Jesus), and John.

This criteria alone excluded most of the books suggested for the canon. For instance, Clement of Rome was not an eyewitness of the Lord; even though his letter to the church at Corinth was highly respected, it was not included in the New Testament.

Second, the book must possess merit and authority in its use. Here it was easy to separate those writings which were inspired from those which were not. For instance, The First Gospel of the Infancy of Jesus Christ tells of a man changed into a mule by a bewitching spell but converted back to manhood when the infant Christ is put on his back for a ride (7:5-27). In the same book, the boy Jesus causes clay birds and animals to come to life (ch. 15), stretches a throne his father had made too small (ch. 16), and takes the lives of boys who oppose him (19:19-24). It wasn’t hard to know that such books did not come from the Holy Spirit.

Third, a book must be accepted by the larger church, not just a particular congregation. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians was an early instance of a letter which became “circular” in nature, read by churches across the faith. His other letters soon acquired such status. In fact, Peter refers to Paul’s letter as “Scripture” (2 Pt. 3:16). The oldest non-biblical letters also quote Paul’s epistles repeatedly. By at least AD 100, his works were collected together and used in worship and study by the larger church.

The gospels were a different matter. Soon after Jesus’ resurrection, many “life of Christ” documents began to appear. Among them was the Protoevangelion, purporting to give details regarding the birth of Jesus; two books on his infancy (one claiming falsely to be written by Thomas); and the Gospel of Nicodemus (sometimes called the Acts of Pontius Pilate). But none actually recorded eyewitness testimony to Jesus, or gained acceptance by the larger Christian movement.

By the mid-second century, only the gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John were accepted universally, as quotations from the Christians of the era make clear. As early as AD 115 Ignatius, bishop of Antioch, referred to the four as “The Gospel.” Around 170, an Assyrian Christian named Tatian composed a “harmony” of the Gospels, using only these four. Irenaeus, bishop of Lyons in Gaul around 180, referred to the four Gospels as firmly established in the church.

The rest of the New Testament gained wide use through different processes. Acts was always considered to be part of Luke’s record, and thus included immediately after the Gospels. The thirteen letters of Paul were included next, arranged from longest to shortest (not chronologically, as many assume). Hebrews was placed next, as many connected it with Paul. 1 Peter and 1 John were clearly written by the apostles for whom they were named.

The Greek of 2 Peter is different from that of 1 Peter, raising authorship questions for some. But when it came to be understood that 1 Peter was probably written through a secretary and 2 Peter by the apostle himself, this question was resolved. The authorship of 2 and 3 John, James, Jude, and Revelation was eventually settled, and they were accepted and used by the larger church as well.

Last, a book came to be approved by the decision of church leaders. The so-called Muratorian Canon (discovered in 1740 by Italian Cardinal L. A. Muratori) was the first list to convey the larger church’s opinion regarding accepted books of the New Testament canon. Compiled around A.D. 200, it represented the usage of the Roman church at the time. The list omits James, 1 and 2 Peter, 3 John, and Hebrews, since its compiler was not sure of their authorship. All were soon included in later canons.

Eusebius, the first church historian, listed in the fourth century the most widely read books in three categories: “recognized,” “disputed,” and “heretical.” He identified as “recognized” the four gospels, Acts, fourteen letters of Paul (Eusebius included Hebrews as Pauline), 1 John and 1 Peter, and Revelation. Among the “disputed” books, he listed as “generally accepted” James, Jude, 2 Peter, and 2 and 3 John (authorship questions remained in the minds of some). And so each of the books of our New Testament had gained general acceptance by this time.

The list we have today was set forth by Athanasius, bishop of Alexandria, in his Easter letter of AD 367:

Again it is not tedious to speak of the [books] of the New Testament. These are, the four Gospels, according to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Afterwards, the Acts of the Apostles and Epistles (called Catholic), seven, viz. of James, one; of Peter, two; of John, three; after these, one of Jude. In addition, there are fourteen Epistles of Paul, written in this order. The first, to the Romans; then two to the Corinthians; after these, to the Galatians; next, to the Ephesians; then to the Philippians; next to the Colossians; after these, two to the Thessalonians, and that to the Hebrews; and again, two to Timothy; one to Titus; and lastly, that to Philemon. And besides, the Revelation of John.

These are the foundations of salvation, that they who thirst may be satisfied with the living words they contain. In these alone is proclaimed the doctrine of godliness. Let no man add to these, neither let him take ought from these.

Note that to this point, no official church council had acted on the matter of the New Testament canon. The process was “bottom up” rather than “top down,” recognizing the experiences of believers everywhere with the various books of Christian Scripture. No conspiracies or councils were involved.

Finally, the list of Athanasius was approved by church councils meeting at Hippo Regius in 393 and Carthage in 397. These councils did not impose anything new upon the church. Rather, they codified what believers had already come to accept and use as the word of God. By the time the councils approved the 27 books of our New Testament, they had already served as the established companion to the Hebrew Scriptures for generations.

Biblical scholar F. F. Bruce is clear: “What councils did was not to impose something new upon the Christian communities but to codify what was already the general practice of these communities.” Biblical commentator William Barclay agrees: “The Bible and the books of the Bible came to be regarded as the inspired word of God, not because of any decision of any Synod or Council or Committee or Church, but because in them mankind found God. The supremely important thing is not what men did to these books, but what these books did to men.”

And so Mr. Brown’s assertion in The DaVinci Code that Constantine “created” the New Testament is patently false. Constantine had absolutely nothing to do with the formation of the biblical canon. A cursory glance at the facts exposes this allegation as anti-Christian propaganda and very poor history.

The books of New Testament we read today were compiled over centuries of use by the larger church of Jesus Christ. The God who inspired the Scriptures used his people to gather and preserve them. We have the books God intended us to possess and obey today.

Can we trust what we read?

When Claude Pepper was running for senator from Florida in 1950, one of his opponents attacked him this way: “Are you aware that Claude Pepper is known all over Washington as a shameless extrovert? He also practiced nepotism with his sister-in-law, and has a sister who was once a thespian in wicked New York City. Worst of all, before his marriage he habitually practiced celibacy!” Mr. Pepper lost the election.

Words matter.

A Gutenberg Bible, printed in 1455 in Mainz, Germany, was sold at an action in 1987 for $5.39 million, more than twice the previous record price for a printed book. The Bible is indisputably the best-selling book of all time; Christian bookstores sell more than 30,000 each day.

Words about the Bible matter.

As we continue our study of biblical authority, we come to this practical question: what are we to call this book? What words best describe its authority? Which terms should we avoid, and which should we encourage? And why does it all matter?

We’ll start our very brief tour within the pages of the Bible itself. Does this book consider itself to be authoritative? Or do those of us who affirm the timeless truth of Scripture misunderstand the book we defend? Critics of the sixteenth century reformers accused them of making a “paper pope” of Scripture. Is our commitment to biblical authority warranted by the Bible itself? What does God’s word say about itself?

The Bible on its origin

The Author of this book made the most stupendous claim in all of recorded literature: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Matthew 28:18). No Caesar, general, or dictator ever thought to claim all authority over the entire universe. If Jesus possesses “all” authority over every dimension of reality, how much authority do you and I have? The words given to us by such a Person obviously become the most significant and authoritative in all the world.

The Bible agrees. It claims to be “inspired” (“breathed into”) by its Author: “All Scripture is God-breathed” (2 Timothy 3:16). It claims divine, not human, authorship for its source: “Above all, you must understand that no prophecy of Scripture came about by the prophet’s own interpretation. For prophecy never had its origin in the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit” (2 Peter 1:20-21).

Paul says of his words, “The gospel I preached is not something that man made up. I did not receive it from any man, nor was I taught it; rather, I received it by revelation from Jesus Christ” (Galatians 1:11-12). He made the same statement to the Corinthians: “This is what we speak, not in words taught us by human wisdom but in words taught by the Spirit” (1 Corinthians 2:13).

Scripture claims to possess this divine authority for all time:

• “The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever” (Isaiah 40:8).

• After quoting this passage, Peter adds, “And this is the word that was preached to you” (1 Pt 1:25).

• Jesus was clear and adamant: “My words will never pass away” (Matthew 24:35).

The Bible claims to be the authoritative word of God on every subject it addresses. It asserts that its truths are objective and eternally relevant. It could not possibly claim a higher authority for itself.

Relating the divine and the human

So we know that the Bible is literally “God’s word,” given to humans through human agency. How did he use men to get his word to mankind? Here we must consider “theories of inspiration.”

First, let’s dispense with mistaken approaches. Some consider the Bible to be “inspired” like all great literature—no less and no more. This is the “natural” inspiration theory. Others believe that the Bible was inspired to the same degree as Christian writing, preaching, and teaching today. This is the “general Christian” theory. Still others accept as inspired only certain sections of Scripture. This is the “partial inspiration” approach. The Bible rejects all three by claiming God’s special authorship of all the Scriptures (2 Timothy 3:16).

Now let’s consider the three most popular theories in church life today. One is the dictation approach. By this view, God gave the literal words of Scripture directly to their human writers. The authors functioned something like stenographers. Some of the Bible clearly came to exist in this way (the Ten Commandments, for instance). But we find different vocabularies, writing styles, and goals within the various books. For this reason, the “dictation” theory is not popular with most scholars today.

The verbal approach suggests that God inspired the individual words of the Bible while also allowing human personality to be used. This view is usually combined with “plenary,” meaning “all.” It teaches that God took the initiative in inspiring each of the individual words of Scripture, but he did this in a way which engaged their personalities as well.

A third approach is the dynamic theory. Those who hold this view believe that God guided the writers more often than he gave each word to them. In this way their personalities were used, while God’s purpose was achieved. This approach, while not insisting on the direct verbal inspiration of each word of the text, still maintains the divine inspiration of the Scriptures. This view affirms that inspiration is verbal not so much in its method as in its result.

Which approach is best? All three contain ideas which should be combined into one concept. We should affirm both the divine and the human elements behind the creation of Scripture, without allowing either to minimize the other.

Sometimes God dictated his words; sometimes he gave the authors his words in very direct ways (dreams and visions, for instance); and sometimes they use their own vocabularies to express the truth he gave them. Perhaps an analogy can clear up this confusion. Many writers, both ancient and modern, have compared the divine/human authorship of Scripture to the divine/human nature of its subject, Jesus Christ. Jesus was fully divine, but fully human as well. We cannot understand this mystery fully, but we can affirm it. In the same way, Scripture can be the very word of God, and yet use the words of men.

All significant spiritual truth requires the acceptance of paradox. God is three and yet one; and the Lord is sovereign while we have free will. Jesus is fully God and fully man; his word retains both the divine and the human as well.

Those closest to the text

The first Christians were convinced of the divine, authoritative nature of Scripture. They were clear on the fact that the Bible is the absolute, authoritative word of God. For instance, Peter cited Old Testament prophets as his authority in his Pentecost address, the first “Christian” sermon. Stephen’s defense of the incipient Christian faith was largely a retelling of Israel’s history in the biblical narrative (Acts 7). James argued for Gentile inclusion in the Church on the basis of biblical prophetic witness (Amos 9:11, 12; Acts 15:16-18).

Much of Paul’s ministry was spent explaining how Jesus fulfilled Old Testament Messianic promises. An early example from his first missionary journey: “From Perga they went on to Pisidian Antioch. On the Sabbath they entered the synagogue and sat down. After reading from the Law and the Prophets, the synagogue rulers sent word to them, saying, ‘Brothers, if you have a message of encouragement for the people, please speak'” (Acts 13:14-15). Paul immediately recited the biblical history of his people (vs. 16-22), and showed the people how Jesus fulfilled their Scriptures (vs. 23-31). He then claimed Psalm 2:7 (v. 33), Isaiah 55:3 (v. 34), Psalm 16:10 (v. 34), and Habakkuk 1:5 (v. 41) as warrant for the gospel he proclaimed.

The letters of the New Testament and early Christian history are replete with biblical citations. In fact, if we had only the letters written by second-century Christians we could reconstruct most of the New Testament on the basis of their voluminous quotations. There is no doubt that the first Christians considered the Bible to be the authoritative revelation and word of God. Critics can say they were right or they were wrong, but they cannot say they were ambiguous. These men and women would rather die than deny the truths they found in God’s word. We should feel the same way.

So far we’ve learned how the Bible was made, its books were chosen, and its words were inspired. All evidence points to a book which is trustworthy in content and reliable in transmission. But its life-changing purpose requires our participation. No literature can change the heart of a person who won’t read it. The world’s finest art cannot move those who will not view it.

Has God’s word changed your life yet today? Will it?

Archaeological evidence for the Bible

We have excellent archaeological data to support the rest of the biblical witness. Here are some examples, listed in the order of their biblical occurrence.

Old Testament discoveries

Archaeologists working with the ruins of Jericho made this astounding discovery in the 1930s: the walls fell outwards. Typically, attackers used poles and rams to push stone walls inward. In this case, they fell down and out, making it easy for the Israelites to climb them and take the city (Joshua 6:20).

In 1993, Israeli archaeologists were sifting through debris as they worked on the ruins of the ancient city of Dan in upper Galilee. What they discovered this day would make the front page of the New York Times: an inscription, part of a shattered “stele” (monument) and dated to the ninth century before Christ. It commemorated a military victory by the king of Damascus over the king of Israel and the house of David. And it cited the “House of David” clearly and without question.

This was the first non-biblical artifact proving the existence of the great King of Israel. A year later, two other artifacts were discovered, naming Jehoram, king of Israel, and Ahaziah, king of Judah. Many scholars now believe that the monument relates to the battle in the region recorded in 2 Chronicles 22:5.

Archaeologists have also discovered dramatic evidence of Solomon’s amazing wealth and building campaigns. Fortifications at Hazor, Megiddo, and Gezer date to the middle of the tenth century B.C., exactly the time of Solomon’s reign. Solomon’s “Royal Quarter” has been unearthed in Jerusalem. And part of the Temple he built still stands on the eastern side of the Temple Mount.

Babylonian chronicles of the destruction of Jerusalem parallel precisely the biblical records of this tragic event. And ruins of Nebuchadnezzar’s palace complex have been discovered, proving his existence and significant role in the ancient Middle East.

New Testament evidences

According to Luke 3:1, Lysanias was tetrarch of Abilene during the beginning of John the Baptist’s ministry. But no evidence of Lysanius’ existence had been discovered, until an inscription was found which records a temple dedication by him. His name, title, and place all agree with Luke’s description.

In 1990, workers building a water park two miles south of the Temple Mount inadvertently broke through the ceiling of a hidden burial chamber. Archaeologists found twelve limestone ossuaries inside. One of them, decorated with six-petaled rosettes, contained the bones of a sixty-year-old man. And it bore the inscription Yehosef bar Qayafa, “Joseph son of Caiaphas.” Historians have identified the remains as those of the high priest of Jesus’ execution.

In 1961, excavations at the seaside ruins of Caesarea Maritima unearthed a first-century inscription. Badly damaged, the Latin inscription reads in part, Tiberieum . . . [Pon]tius Pilatus . . . [Praef]ectus Juda[ea]e. The inscription confirms the status of Pontius Pilate as the prefect or governor of Judea.

Yhohnn Yehohanan was a crucifixion victim, executed during the Jewish Revolt in A.D. 70. In 1968, his remains were discovered. His legs were fractured, evidence of the typical Roman means by which death was hastened. Nails were driven through his wrists and heels. His death corresponds precisely with the descriptions of Jesus’ crucifixions found in the Gospels (cf. John 19:17-32).

Luke describes Paul’s ministry in Corinth and this attack: “While Gallio was proconsul of Achaia, the Jews made a united attack on Paul” (Acts 18:12). Gallio ejected Paul’s accusers from his court (v. 16) and refused to prosecute Paul. This Gallio is known to be the brother of Seneca, the philosopher, who was himself tutor of Nero. However, critics were skeptical of Luke’s claim that Gallio was “proconsul” of Achaia during the time of Paul’s ministry there. Then an inscription was discovered at Delphi with this exact title for Gallio; it dates him to A.D. 51, the time Paul was in Corinth.

Erastus is identified in Acts 19:22 as one of Paul’s Corinthian co-workers. In excavations in the area of Corinth, we find an inscription which states, “Erastus in return for his aedileship laid the pavement at his own expense.”

Fulfilled prophecy

Jeane Dixon made the news after President Kennedy’s assassination, when her prediction reported four years earlier in Parade magazine was recounted: “As to the 1960 election, Mrs. Dixon thinks it will be dominated by labor and won by a Democrat. But he will be assassinated or die in office, though not necessarily in his first term.”

However, in January of 1960 she had claimed, “The symbol of the Presidency is directly over the head of Vice President Nixon.” Either he or Democrat John Kennedy had to win the election. Additionally, three of the ten presidents who served in the 20th century had died in office, and two others were critically ill at the end of their term. The odds against her were not as high as we might think.

Further study of psychic claims made in 1975 and observed until 1981 concluded that only six of the 72 predictions were fulfilled in any way. A six percent accuracy rate is not impressive.

Does the Bible fulfill its predictions? When it makes prophetic statements regarding the future, do they come to pass? As we consider evidence for biblical authority, we should spend a moment with the fascinating subject of Messianic prophecy and its fulfillment by Jesus Christ. If any book makes promises it does not keep, we are justified in dismissing the rest of its truth claims. But if a book’s prophecies rendered centuries earlier are clearly fulfilled in history, we can consider the rest of its claims to be trustworthy as well.

The importance of Messianic prophecy

Jesus appealed repeatedly to Old Testament predictions regarding himself:

• At the beginning of his ministry, he read a Messianic prediction from Isaiah 61, then said to the waiting crowd, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing” (Luke 4:21).

• He told his critics, “You diligently study the Scriptures because you think that by them you possess eternal life. These are the Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life…If you believed Moses, you would believe me, for he wrote about me” (John 5:39-40, 46).

• At the Last Supper, he warned his disciples, “It is written: ‘And he was numbered with the transgressors’; and I tell you that this must be fulfilled in me. Yes, what is written about me is reaching its fulfillment” (Luke 22:37).

• At his arrest he told the crowd, “This has all taken place that the writings of the prophets might be fulfilled” (Matthew 26:56).

• On Easter Sunday night he said to the two disciples traveling to Emmaus: “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” Then, to explain what he meant, “And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself” (Luke 24:25-26, 27).

• After his resurrection he said to his astonished disciples, “Everything must be fulfilled that is written about me in the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms” (Luke 24:44).

New Testament writers made the same appeal, claiming repeatedly that Jesus fulfilled the Old Testament predictions regarding the Messiah:

• At Pentecost, Peter cited prophecies from Joel 2, Psalm 16, and Psalm 110 in claiming that Jesus was the promised Messiah (Acts 2:14-36).

• He later explained Jesus’ crucifixion to a crowd at Jerusalem: “This is how God fulfilled what he foretold through all the prophets, saying that his Christ would suffer” (Acts 3:18).

• Peter told Cornelius, “All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name” (Acts 10:43).

• When Paul came to Thessalonica, “As his custom was, [he] went into the synagogue, and on three Sabbath days he reasoned with them from the Scriptures, explaining and proving that the Christ had to suffer and rise from the dead. ‘This Jesus I am proclaiming to you is the Christ,’ he said” (Acts 17:2-3).

• Paul described his message as “the gospel [God] promised beforehand through his prophets in the Holy Scriptures” (Romans 1:2).

• Paul’s message could be summarized: “what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:3-4).

Clearly, if Jesus did not fulfill Old Testament predictions regarding the Messiah, both he and his first followers were deceivers of the worst sort. Their movement depended entirely on the claim that he was the promised Messiah of God. It still does.

Representative Messianic prophecies

More than 300 times, the Old Testament makes claims or predictions regarding the coming Messiah. Jesus fulfilled every prophecy. Most scholars date Malachi, the last book of the Old Testament, at ca. 400 B.C., demonstrating that these predictions were not made during Jesus’ day. Translators who created the Septuagint, the Greek Old Testament, began their work ca. 250 B.C. At the very least, there were more than two centuries between the last prediction and Jesus’ fulfillment.

Listed in order relative to Jesus’ earthly life, here are some of the main prophecies to consider:

Prophecy

Old Testament

New Testament

Born of a woman’s seed

Gen 3:15

Gal 4:4

Born of a virgin

Is 7:14

Mt 1:18, 24, 25;

Lk 1:26-35

Descended from Abraham

Gen 22:18

Mt 1:1; Gal 3:16

Descended from Isaac

Gen 21:12

Lk 3:23, 34; Mt 1:2

Descended from Jacob

Numb 24:17

Lk 3:23, 34

Part of the tribe of Judah

Gen 49:19; Mic. 5:2

Lk 3:23, 33; Mt 1:2

From the family line of Jesse

Is 11:1

Lk 3:23, 32; Mt 1:6

From the house of David

Jer 23:5

Lk 3:23, 31; Mt 1:1

Born at Bethlehem

Mic 5:2

Mt 2:1

Presented with gifts

Ps 72:10

Mt 2:1, 11

Children would die

Jer 31:15

Mt 2:16

Would be anointed by the Spirit

Is 11:2

Mt 3:16, 17

Preceded by a messenger

Is 40:3; Mal 3:1

Mt 3:1, 2

Would minister in Galilee

Is 9:1

Mt 4:12, 13, 17

Would perform miracles

Is 35:5, 6

Mt 9:35

Would teach parables

Ps 78:2

Mt 13:34

Would enter Jerusalem on a donkey

Zech 9:9

Lk 19:35-37

A friend would betray him

Ps 41:9

Mt 10:4

Sold for 30 pieces of silver

Zech 11:12

Mt 26:15

Money thrown in the Lord’s house

Zech 11:13

Mt 27:5

Money used for a potter’s field

Zech 11:13

Mt 27:7

Forsaken by his disciples

Zech 13:7

Mk 14:50

Accused by false witnesses

Ps 35:11

Mt 26:59, 60

Silent before his accusers

Is 53:7

Mt 27:12

Wounded and bruised

Is 53:5

Mt 27:26

Smitten and spit upon

Is 50:6

Mt 26:67

Mocked

Ps 22:7, 8

Mt 27:29

Hands and feet pierced

Ps 22:16

Lk 23:33

Crucified with thieves

Is 53:12

Mt 27:38

Prayed for his persecutors

Is 53:12

Lk 23:34

Friends stood afar off

Ps 38:11

Lk 23:49

Garments parted and lots cast

Ps 22:18

Jn 19:23, 24

Would suffer thirst

Ps 69:21

Jn 19:28

Gall and vinegar offered

Ps 69:21

Mt 27:34

Would be forsaken by God

Ps 22:1

Mt 27:46

Would commit himself to God

Ps 31:5

Lk 23:46

No bones broken

Ps 34:20

Jn 19:33

His side pierced

Zech 12:10

Jn 19:34

Buried in a wealthy man’s tomb

Is 53:9

Mt 27:57-60

Would be raised from the dead

Ps 16:10

Ac 2:31

Would ascend to heaven

Ps 68:18

Ac 1:9

Would be seated at the right hand of God

Ps 110:1

Heb 1:3

What are the chances that one person could fulfill each of these predictions? Many of them were beyond Jesus’ human control (such as the soldier’s decision to thrust his spear into Jesus’ side). Were they coincidental? Mathematician Peter Stoner once calculated the odds of one man’s fulfillment of just eight of these predictions: one in 10 to the 17th power (one followed by 17 zeroes). That number would fill the state of Texas two feet deep in silver dollars. Stoner then considered 48 of the Messianic prophecies, and determined their odds to be one in ten to the 157th power.

Clearly, the Bible keeps its promises. And its central figure is who he claimed to be: the Messiah of God.

The contradictory history of contradictions

Everyone knows that contradictions are bad. If you can find a statement I make in this chapter which disagrees with something I’ve already said, you’ll feel justified in rejecting both. Even though one may be right. Even though they both may be. Why?

We have Aristotle (384-322 B.C.) to thank, or blame. In his desire to compile all knowledge into an organized system, he devised laws of logic as organizational tools. One of them is called the “law of contradiction”: A cannot equal B and at the same time not equal B. A fish cannot also be a mammal, if a biologist like Aristotle is going to classify it.

From then to now, we Westerners have adopted Aristotle’s law as the basis for determining all truth. If we can find a contradiction in the Bible, we think we have reason to dismiss its veracity. But before we decide we’re right, let’s think about Aristotle’s laws some more.

His approach is necessary in the physical sciences. We want our doctors to diagnose ailments by Aristotelian logic. If your knee is hurting, you don’t want your orthopedist to suggest that it might be cancer and torn cartilage, so let’s treat it for both and see what happens. You want a non-contradictory medical response.

The trouble with Aristotle’s law comes when we apply it outside its intended context. Aristotle wanted to classify all empirical knowledge, and needed his laws of logic to do so. But he didn’t use them outside the physical realm. When we apply them in this way, problems quickly emerge.

Relational experience is seldom logical and non-contradictory. It may appear contradictory to claim that you love your children and yet sometimes wish they’d never been born. But if you’re a typical parent, both are sometimes true. Jesus claimed to be fully God and fully man; God is three and yet one; the Bible is divinely inspired but humanly written; God knows the future but we have freedom to choose. Inside every essential Christian doctrine there is a paradox, an apparent contradiction.

This is as it should be. If you and I could understand fully the nature of God, either he wouldn’t be God or we would be. Mark Twain once remarked that if he could understand everything in the Bible, he wouldn’t believe that God wrote it. We should expect paradox and rational tensions within our finite, fallen understanding of the omnipotent God of the universe.

Many of the so-called contradictions in the Bible fit into such spiritual or relational categories. For instance, the Bible teaches that “God is love” (1 John 4:8). Yet it also states clearly, “The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of men who suppress the truth by their wickedness” (Romans 1:18). And it warns, “For those who are self-seeking and who reject the truth and follow evil, there will be wrath and anger” (Romans 2:8). How can God both love and hate? Don’t ask Aristotle. But you can ask any parent.

Not all truth fits into test tubes. My seventh-grade geometry teacher claimed that parallel lives never intersect. But to prove it, he’d have to draw them forever. Black and white are not the only crayons in the box.

Consider the larger context

A second category of apparent contradictions in the Bible results from misunderstanding the intended context of the texts in question. Let’s look at some commonly-cited examples, taking them in the order they appear in Scripture.

An eye for an eye and the God of love

A critic asks, “The Old Testament teaches, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But Jesus told us to turn the other cheek. Which is right?” Both.

We’re dealing with the Lex Talionis, the oldest law in the world. It appears in the Code of Hammurabi, dated to 2285 B.C. It is found in the Old Testament as well: “If any harm follows, then you shall give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe” (Exodus 21:23-25).

Before this law, if I wrecked your car you could destroy my house. If I injured your child, you could kill all my children. The original purpose of the law was thus to limit vengeance. Only the one who caused the injury could be punished, not his entire family or tribe. And only to the degree that he has injured another, protecting him from a more powerful enemy. This law did not promote retribution—it limited it.

But the law seems to contradict Jesus’ clear teaching in the Sermon on the Mount: “Do not resist an evil person. If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if someone wants to sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you” (Matthew 5:38-42).

In their historical context, Jesus’ statements are intended to speak to a very different subject than self-defense and retribution. Each of his examples points to the same principle: stop the cycle of revenge. Don’t return slander with slander, gossip with gossip.

His first example relates to your honor: “If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also” (v. 39). “Strikes” in the original means to “slap.” The right hand was the only one used in public. To slap your right cheek with my right hand was an insult, not a threat to life and limb. Jesus says, Don’t slap back. If someone insults you, don’t insult them.

Next, Jesus speaks of your possessions: “If someone wants to use you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well” (v. 40). Your “tunic” was your undershirt with sleeves; it could be taken in a lawsuit. Your “cloak” could not, for it protected you from the elements. But give it anyway. Don’t insist on your rights.

Now he deals with your time: “If someone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles” (v. 41). Jesus refers to the power of a Roman soldier to make a Jew carry his military pack for one mile. Carry it two miles. Sacrifice the time, though you don’t have to. Do it anyway.

And last, he speaks to your money: “Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you” (v. 42). As Augustine reminds us, we are not told to give everything we are asked for, but to give to every person who asks. Even though it is your right not to.

So refuse retribution. Stop the cycle of vengeance. Don’t repeat the gossip or slander. Refuse to return insult for insult, pain for pain. It has been noted that an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth is a rapid way to a sightless, toothless world. That’s the point of Jesus’ teaching, and it in no way contradicts the law in Exodus. The former deals with personal insults, the latter with physical malice. Knowing the context explains the “contradiction.”

Nuram, Naphtali and Dan

1 Kings 7:14 states that Huram, one of the builders of Solomon’s temple, came from the tribe of Naphtali. However, 2 Chronicles 2:14 says his mother was from the tribe of Dan. Which tribe was hers?

A number of possibilities exist. She could have been descended from Dan but living in Naphtali, or the reverse. One of her parents could have come from one tribe, the other from the other tribe. There is no reason to assume a contradiction in the accounts.

Abiathar and Ahimelech

In Mark 2, Jesus defends his disciples’ decision to eat grain on the Sabbath: “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need? In the days of Abiathar the high priest, he entered the house of God and ate the consecrated bread” (vs. 25-26). But 1 Samuel 21:1 says that this occurred when Ahimelech, Abiathar’s father, was priest. For such kindness to David, Ahimelech and his family were killed by Saul’s soldiers. His son Abiathar escaped, and was later made priest (1 Samuel 22:20-23).

This problem is explainable on grammatical terms. “In the days of Abiathar” translates a Greek phrase which says literally “upon Abiathar the high priest.” Mark usually uses “upon” (epi in Greek) to refer to location rather than time. The phrase is better translated, “at the place where Abiathar was high priest,” not “during the time when” he served.

Another “contradiction” involving these two men is also explainable. 2 Samuel 8:16-18 lists King David’s officials and includes “Ahimelech son of Abiathar” as priest (v. 17). We know from 1 Samuel 22:20 that Ahimelech was Abiathar’s father. But it is possible that Abiathar had a son whom he named for his own father Ahimelech. Remember that Zechariah’s family wanted to name his son for his father, until his parents insisted that he be called “John” (Luke 1:59-63). My middle name is my grandfather’s first name; one of my sons carries his grandfather’s first name as well. Such family traditions are still as common today as in the ancient world.

David’s census

2 Samuel 24:1 states, “the anger of the Lord burned against Israel, and he incited David against them, saying, ‘Go and take a census of Israel and Judah.'” Then, after David conducted such a census, God responded with judgment and punishment. As a result, 70,000 people died in a plague which an angel brought against the people (v. 15). Why would God punish David and his people for doing what he led the king to do?

To further complicate matters, 1 Chronicles 21:1 records, “Satan rose up against Israel and incited David to take a census of Israel.” Now we find Scripture blaming not God but Satan for the census. Again we wonder why God punished the people for something Satan instigated. And we wonder who was behind this apparent sin.

Two facts deserve notice. One: David misused his freedom to conduct the census. His advisers warned him against such an action of prideful self-reliance (2 Samuel 24:3-4). His actions implicated the entire nation, so that judgment came against them all. Disobedience leads to consequences beyond our intention. As someone has noted, sin will always take you farther than you wanted to go, keep you longer than you wanted to stay, and cost you more than you wanted to pay.

Two: the Jewish people saw all that happens as within the providence and permission of God. God does not himself cause us to sin (James 1:13-14). But because Satan must work under the control of the Lord (cf. Job 1:12; 2:6; Ezekiel 3:20; 14:9; Acts 4:28), God permits what Satan does. In this sense, Satan’s activity (1 Chronicles) was permitted by the Lord and thus attributed to him (2 Samuel).

As the Jewish people grew in their knowledge of God, the Chronicler (writing 400 years after 2 Samuel) could record Satan’s activity in more detail than the people had earlier understood. In the proper historical and theological light, the two accounts do not contradict each other.

Quirinius, governor Syria

Luke 2:2 tells us that the census which led Joseph and Mary to Bethlehem “was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.” However, Jewish and Roman historical records seem to date Quirinius’ term in office from A.D. 6-9. Can we reconcile the discrepancy?

Yes. We know from the Roman historian Tacitus (Annals 3:48) that Quirinius led military expeditions in the Syrian region a decade earlier. Luke uses “governor” (hegemoneuo) in a general sense of leading or ruling, so that he may well have this military office in mind. And some ancient records seem to indicate that Quirinius served two terms in office; the first from 6-4 B.C. and the second from A.D. 6-9. A census occurred during each term (Acts 5:37 refers to the census which took place during Quirinius’ second term in office).

It seems unlikely that Luke would make an historical error regarding political leadership at the time of Jesus’ birth, given his careful use of eyewitness records (Luke 1:1-4) and the fact that such a mistake would be easily exposed by his contemporaries. But given the general nature of Luke’s word “governor,” it is easy to see how his narrative correlates with ancient historical records.

In a sermon this Sunday, I could attribute the allied victory in World War II to the “leadership” of Dwight Eisenhower, even though Franklin Roosevelt and Harry Truman were presidents during this time and Eisenhower came to the White House later. If I state that Gen. Eisenhower was “president” in 1945, any who listen to my sermon would quickly correct me. If I call him our “leader,” all would understand.

Mark 1, Isaiah and Malachi

Mark 1:2-3 begins the life of Jesus with this citation: “It is written in Isaiah the prophet: ‘I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way’–‘a voice of one calling in the desert, ‘Prepare the way for the Lord, make straight paths for him.”‘” The problem is that the first citation does not come from Isaiah but from Malachi 3:1. Did Mark make a mistake? No.

Mark’s second citation is taken directly from Isaiah 40:3, so that the prophecy he cites did in fact come from Isaiah. But what of the first prediction? Isaiah was the first book in the division of the Hebrew Bible known as the Latter Prophets, so that everything from Isaiah to Malachi could be considered to be “in Isaiah.”

This kind of attribution was common in ancient literature. For instance, the book of Proverbs begins, “The proverbs of Solomon son of David, king of Israel.” Yet Proverbs 30 claims to be “the sayings of Agur son of Jakeh” (v. 1), while Proverbs 31 is the work of “King Lemuel” (v. 1). The larger book is attributed to Solomon, since he is its principal and best-known author. In the same way, the prophecies found in the Latter Prophets all stand “in” or under Isaiah, their first and best-known representative.

The roof and the paralytic

Mark informs us that the friends of a paralyzed man tried to bring him to Jesus, but could not get inside the house crowded with people listening to him teach. So “they made an opening in the roof above Jesus and, after digging through it, lowered the mat the paralyzed man was lying on” (Mark 2:4). Mark describes a typical Palestinian house, made with a flat roof accessible by a ladder. Usually roofing clay was packed and rolled, then covered with branches laid across wooden beams.

However, Luke describes the same event this way: “they went up on the roof and lowered him on his mat through the tiles into the middle of the crowd” (Luke 5:19). Since Gentile houses often used such tiles, could it be that Luke used a description with which he was more familiar? If so, was he in error? Did the friends “dig through” a clay roof, or remove ceiling tiles?

Both. Jesus was teaching in a house large enough to accommodate a crowd which included Pharisees and teachers of the law “from every village of Galilee and from Judea and Jerusalem” (Luke 5:17). Perhaps this expansive house was owned by a person wealthy enough to afford roof tiles, rather than the cheaper thatched roof which had to be replaced periodically. These tiles would substitute for the branches which were laid on wooden beams across the clay roof. Mark does not state that the friends dug through branches, but only through the roof itself. Luke gives us the added detail that they removed tiles before they dug through the clay roof. There is no reason to conclude that the two accounts contradict one another.

The death of Judas

Here’s another supposed contradiction: “Matthew says that Judas hanged himself; the book of Acts says he fell down and died. Which is it?” Matthew’s gospel does indeed record Judas’s suicide by hanging: “So Judas threw the money into the temple and left. Then he went away and hanged himself. The chief priests picked up the coins and said, ‘It is against the law to put this into the treasury, since it is blood money.’ So they decided to use the money to buy the potter’s field as a burial place for foreigners. That is why it has been called the Field of Blood to this day” (Matthew 27:5-8). In Acts 1 Peter says, “Judas bought a field; there he fell headlong, his body burst open and all his intestines spilled out” (v. 18).

How can the two accounts be reconciled? In several ways. It may be that Judas’s body decomposed, so that when the rope broke or was cut, it fell as Peter describes. Or it may be that the Greek word translated “hanged” is actually the word “impaled” (both meanings are possible), so that Peter describes more vividly the way Judas killed himself. Either option is a possible way to explain the apparent contradiction.

The purchase of the field is likewise explainable. “Judas bought a field” (Acts 1:18) can mean that the field was bought with his money, not necessarily that he procured the land personally. We speak in the same way in our church when we tell members that their offerings paid for a particular ministry or building. “You bought literature for our trip to South Texas,” we tell them, even though they did not purchase the materials themselves.

It seems unlikely that Peter would get the details of Judas’ death wrong, since it occurred less than six weeks before his comments in Acts 1. He spoke in general terms about an event which was common knowledge; Matthew provided greater detail when he wrote about Judas’ death some four decades later.

Angels at Easter

At Jesus’ resurrection, when the women came to the empty tomb “two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them” (Luke 24:4). John’s account agrees: Mary “saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot” (John 20:12). However, Matthew 28:2-7 records only one angel who rolled back the stone, frightened the guards, and spoke to the women. And Mark tells us that the women found “a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side” of the tomb (16:5).

Were there two angels or one at the resurrection? Yes. In ancient literature, it was common for the spokesman to be described without mentioning those who accompanied him. For instance, in Acts 15 we learn that Silas accompanied Paul on his second missionary journey (v. 40). But then Luke records that “He went through Syria and Cilicia, strengthening the churches” (v. 41), and then “He came to Derbe and then to Lystra” (16:1). Where was Silas? With Paul, though unnamed and unmentioned.

In the same way, one angel could roll aside the stone and speak to the women, while another was present as well. There is no reason to insist that the accounts contradict each other. Additionally, the angels were seated (John 20:12) and standing (Luke 24:4), as they changed their posture during the course of the event.

Such independence of accounts actually strengthens the case for biblical trustworthiness. It is obvious that the writers did not try to coordinate their descriptions. No collusion was at work. Any traffic officer will testify that two people who witness the same automobile accident will tell the story with different details. So long as they agree on the essentials, their testimony will be accepted as trustworthy. In fact, if every detail agrees, the court will wonder if the witnesses coordinated their stories before telling them under oath.

In the same way, we can know that those who recorded the first Easter got the intended meaning and message of the resurrection right. To ask more is to raise a question the text is not intended to answer. We don’t play tennis with a football.

Understand the author’s intention

A third category of supposed contradictions results from misunderstanding the background behind passages in God’s word. When we don’t have the full picture, we distort the parts we do see.

It is unfair to any book to ask questions it does not intend to answer. We don’t use a cookbook to repair a car, or a poem to mow the lawn. If a biblical writer did not intend chronological, historical, geographic, or scientific precision, it is unfair to criticize him for failing by such standards. A meteorologist can predict the time of tomorrow’s “sunrise” without intending to take us back to the Ptolemaic universe in which the sun rotates around the earth.

Let’s consider some examples of “contradictions” which are explained by remembering the intention of the biblical authors.

Jesus’ temptations

Matthew 4 records Jesus’ temptations in this order: turn stones into bread (v. 3), jump from the temple (vs. 5-6), and worship Satan on a mountain (v. 9). Luke 4 records the same temptations, but in a different order: turn stones to bread (v. 3), worship the devil on a mountain (vs. 5-6), and jump from the temple (vs. 9-11).

Aristotelian logic requires that we ask: which order is correct? Which writer is wrong? If one is wrong, maybe they’re both wrong. Maybe Satan is mythical. Maybe Jesus’ temptations are symbolic. Once we start down the slippery slope of contradiction, where do we stop?

In their intentional context, there is no such contradiction here. Neither Matthew nor Luke claimed to be writing historical chronology, so the order of Jesus’ temptations is immaterial to their purpose.

Let’s say a staff member asks me what I did today, and I tell him that I taught Men’s Bible Study this morning, attended our Thursday prayer meeting, and worked on my sermon for this weekend. Then tonight my wife asks me what I did, and I tell her that I taught Men’s Bible Study, worked on my sermon, and attended Thursday prayer meeting. Have I contradicted myself? Only if I promised to state the activities in their proper chronological order each time I recounted the events. If such was not my intention, my retelling of the day is correct in each account.

In the same way, Matthew and Luke contradict each other regarding Jesus’ temptations only if each of them stated their intention to record chronological precision. Since they don’t, it is clear that the order of the temptations stands outside their intention and thus our criticism.

Copyist errors

The Bible is the product of some fifteen centuries of authorship and another fifteen centuries of handwritten transmission. Not until the Gutenberg Bible was it possible to copy and transmit the Scriptures mechanically; not until this generation was such possible electronically.

As we will see in have seen, the manuscripts for the biblical texts are astoundingly accurate and trustworthy. However, it is inevitable that human hands, copying such a large text, would make occasional scribal errors. Such problems are far less common with the Bible than with any other ancient literature. And not one affects a single doctrine or faith practice.

Let’s look at some “contradictions” which result from copyist errors. 2 Samuel 10 tells us that in conflict with the Aramean army, “David killed seven hundred of their charioteers” (v. 18). When 1 Chronicles 19 records the same event four centuries later, it states that “David killed seven thousand of their charioteers” (v. 18). It would be easy for a scribe to make a mistake by either reducing the 1 Chronicles number or adding to the one recorded in 2 Samuel.

Of course, the two accounts are not technically in contradiction, since 700 is a subset of 7,000. David killed 700 charioteers, if he killed 7,000. But most likely the difference is the result of a copyist mistake. And this mistake changes absolutely nothing about the intended message of the two passages—David led his armies to victory and his nation to peace.

Another example of copyist error is in the well-known 23rd Psalm. The NIV renders the last phrase, “and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever” (v. 6). The Masoretes (scribes who copied the Old Testament) rendered the verb as “I will return,” from the Hebrew verb wesabti. But the verb weyasabti (“remain”) was likely the original. The “w” (Hebrew waw) and the “y” (Hebrew yod) looked so much alike that the Masoretes saw the “y” as a repeated “w” and dropped it, rendering the verb wesabti. Because Hebrew scholars believe the original verb was weyasabti, they translate the phrase “I will dwell.”

Before you decide that these kinds of mistakes in transmission disqualify biblical authority, apply such a test to any other means of communication. A single typographical error in tomorrow’s newspaper means that you cannot trust anything it reports. A mistake in tonight’s television newscast means that every story is unreliable. My first mistake in typography or syntax disqualifies everything you read in this book.

By such standards no literature or communication medium can be trusted. No phone book or dictionary should be consulted. No doctor should practice medicine, since medical books are not free from error. And no medical practice is immune from mistakes. If a single doctor misdiagnoses a single ailment, none of us should ever consult a physician again.

At issue is the intention of the text. As we have seen, the Bible does not intend to be a book which meets 21st-century standards of scientific, geographic, or historical precision. No ancient book does. And few if any documents in current literature can stand such scrutiny perfectly. But the Bible, as transmitted to us across 35 centuries, retains complete accuracy in all it intends to accomplish. It shows us how to find Jesus (John 20:30-31), and how to be equipped for faith and service in the Kingdom of God (2 Timothy 3:16-17).

The next time someone claims the Bible is full of contradictions, ask him if he has read the Bible. Then ask if it is a contradiction to dismiss a book he hasn’t read. Now offer to help him study the Bible and meet its Author. It is a contradiction to me that a holy and perfect God would want me to live in his perfect paradise. I’m glad it’s not to him.