A Time for Self-Defense (Esther 8)

[This is a pre-publication version of the chapter submission for the 87th Annual Freed-Hardeman University Lectureship (2023), Henderson, Tennessee. This is part of the lectureship book: For Such a Time as This: Restoring God’s People in Ezra, Nehemiah, and Esther (Link to book). Listen to the audio lecture as delivered here.]


In 483 B.C., Esther (Hadassah, Esth. 2:7) and her adoptive Jewish father-figure Mordecai rise to the innermost court of King Ahasuerus (Xerxes I, 486–465 B.C.) only to face the malcontent Haman who desires to eliminate the Jews spread across the vast Persian empire[1] through a state-sanctioned “pogrom” (Esth. 3:1–15, 5:9–14).[2] In chapter eight, Esther and Mordecai take advantage of Haman’s missteps and execution (cf. Esth. 6:13; 7:1–10).

The ascendant Mordecai uses his newly minted authority to issue a “self-defense” law protecting these diaspora Jews from this state-sanctioned genocide. They may now protect themselves from Haman’s pogrom across the Persian empire (Esth. 8:9). Esther inaugurates the Feast of Purim to commemorate their deliverance (Esth. 9:20–32). Since ancient times, the book is read as part of this spring feast along with “noisy, merry and secular” merriment (Webb 111).

The narrative of Esther leads the reader to reflect on the interplay between “coincidence,” human evil, divine sovereignty, and Israel’s preservation through its conflict-resolution story-arch. Esther 8 continues to speak to God’s people who must often live in hostile, secular, or unfavorable societies, calling on the faithful to endure the “Hamans” of their own time and to trust in God who can reverse the fate of his people.

EXEGESIS

Genre and Literary Movement

Esther is written in historical prose and outlines this history in dilemma-resolution format: how will the Jews of the Persian diaspora survive a state-sanctioned pogrom? The answer provides the historical foundation for the celebration of Purim. The narrative moves forward through a series of unfolding “coincidences” within the Persian court of Ahasuerus quickly immersing the reader into the crux of the story (Arnold and Beyer 272).[3] The artistry and realism of this story rely heavily on humor (satire), irony, and recurring motifs (Longman and Dillard 219–20). Clearly, Esther offers a unique kind of historical storytelling, one which forces the reader to conclude God is at work protecting his people from genocide.

Esther 8:1–17 is critical to the literary progression of the book’s plot as it functions as a bridge to the resolution of the narrative (LaSor, Hubbard, Bush 534–37). Haman’s plot to “destroy” the Jews by decree in a year’s time is introduced (3:1–15), and Mordecai successfully enlists Queen Esther to intercede (4:1–5:8). Matters complicate when an infuriated Haman plans to kill Mordecai on the “gallows” (5:9–6:14). [All Scripture references are from the English Standard Version unless otherwise noted.]

During a feast, the effect of Haman’s pogrom on Esther and against her people is revealed to the king; then, by a colossal misunderstanding, Haman is executed on the gallows built for Mordecai (7:1–10). Mordecai ascends to Haman’s position, with his estate, and then writes an edict authorizing the provincial Jews to protect themselves (8:1–17). This only partially resolves the problem. The full resolution takes place later in the “battle” of Purim (9:1–19).

Exegetical Analysis

Esther 8:1–17 reports how Mordecai and Esther “revoke” the disgraced Haman’s pogrom by authorizing the diaspora Jews across the Persian empire to protect themselves.

The Succession of Mordecai (Esth. 8:1–2)

Haman is treated as an “enemy of the state.” Following Haman’s execution (Esth. 7:10), the “foe and enemy” of the Jews is treated as “an enemy of the state” by the confiscation and transference of his estate and his position to Mordecai (Esth. 7:6; 8:1–2). Zeresh, Haman’s wife, had previously given him an ominous prediction of his impending failure (6:13). King Ahasuerus moves quickly to settle the custody of Haman’s estate, his position, and the royal signet ring.

According to ancient custom, traitors and other enemies of the state would have their wealth confiscated by the state. Haman himself included this element in his plan, likely to remunerate the potential taxes lost with the elimination of the Jews (Esth. 3:9, 13; Berlin 41). Limiting the evidence to ancient historians aware of this practice in Persia, consider two examples. Herodotus reports a comparable story that King Darius I (521–486 BC) avenged the wrongful “destruction” of Mitrobates and his son by executing Oroetes (Satrap of Lydia), confiscating his estate and returning it to Susa (Histories 3.127–129).[4] Josephus published a letter from Cyrus II (559–529 BC) to the returning Jewish exiles under governor Zerubbabel, cautioning that any Jews who violate his “injunctions” for the rededication of the temple would be crucified and “their substance brought into the king’s treasury” (Antiquities 11.17; Ezra 6:11).[5]

The second movement is the promotion of Mordecai to Haman’s role as “vizier.”[6] Interestingly, Herodotus recounts the promotion to “ruler of Cilicia” of a relatively unknown Persian figure named Xenagoras, for saving King Xerxes’ brother Masistes (Histories 9.107.3). The event is comparable, but not exact, in that Mordecai was already known and honored by the King; further, Mordecai is elevated much higher (Esth. 3:1–2).

Wasting no time, on the second day of the feast (Esth. 7:2; 8:1), Mordecai receives the king’s signet ring previously entrusted to Haman (Esth. 3:10; 8:1). This is a significant move of power reversal. Apparently, the ring remained with Haman until his execution, but now it is entrusted to Mordecai (Esth. 8:2). This brief “ceremony” mirrors the problem-solution pattern of Haman’s edict, finalizing with Mordecai’s public recognition as the king’s “vizier” (8:15–17). Progress toward a resolution continues, and hope is taking root.

The Countermand of Haman’s Pogrom (Esth. 8:3–8)

Haman’s death has not annulled his pogrom, however, since it is irrevocable (Esth. 3:12). Clearly, the narrative has shifted in the right direction but not far enough. All is not lost, but all is not gained. Queen Esther and the newly minted vizier must continue to find a way to realize the hope of “relief and deliverance” the Jews desperately need as the pogrom looms nine months away (Esth. 8:9, 12). Will it come from “another place” (Esth. 4:14)—i.e., God—or will Esther and Mordecai sense the urgency to use their high position to preserve their fellow Jews (Kaiser, et al. 252)? Will these series of fortunate events continue?

Esther initiates a dialogue with King Ahasuerus by daringly asserting herself through humble intercession (fell to his feet, weeping, pleading; Esth. 8:3). Esther is still committed to her resolve, “if I perish, I perish” (Esth. 4:16), as her words were about a week’s time old (Esth. 4:16; 5:1, 4, 8, 9; 6:1; 7:1; 8:1). Esther’s gamble proved successful again (cf. Esth. 5:2), as the king grants her another unbidden audience by “holding out the golden scepter to Esther” (Esth. 8:4). This was a necessary risk, nothing had been truly gained since the pogrom was an unalterable law (Esth. 3:6). In the words of Cline, “How can an unalterable law be altered?” (Cline 393). This will prove to be the wrong question to ask. The king is asked to act one more time against Haman’s “plot” (Esth. 8:3). The solution does not prove to be straightforward.

The dialogue is framed as a short problem-solution interaction (Esth. 8:5–8). The king seems not to understand that Esther is representing more than just herself and Mordecai (Esth. 7:3–6). It is clear that Esther uses it all (her ancestry, her marriage, her favor) to her advantage as she seemly goes beyond court language. The rhetoric is loaded with this history in mind and she has not been afraid to use it on behalf of her people (Esth. 5:8; 7:3). She presumes on the “eye” of the king which she has gained (Esth. 8:5). Gaining the king’s favor has been her path from her time in the harem and nights with the king (Esth. 2:3, 12, 14), to gain his favor, love, and the crown (Esth. 2:15, 17).

The king himself will not personally “revoke” Haman’s letters with the plot against the Jews (Esth 8:5, 8). The word translated “revoke” (shūb), with a basic sense of “turn, return,” carries a wide spectrum of meanings in different contexts and relationships (BDB 996–99). This is apparent in Esther, such as a spatial “return” to a person (Esth. 2:14; 6:12; 7:8; 9:25), a verbal “response” (Esth. 4:13, 15), and politically to “reverse” a law (Esth. 8:5). The problem, again, is the law is an official irrevocable edict of the king (Esth. 8:8; cf. 1:9).

The king’s move is to delegate to another to write the law. Esther and Mordecai may use the authority of his name and his seal to “write” as they “please with regard to the Jews” (Esth. 8:8). Although a number of critical scholars balk at the supposed flippant way these irrevocable laws and their despotic use of power are enacted in Esther, the narrator’s historical knowledge of the inner workings of the Persian court commend good reason to believe its realism (Longman and Dillard 216, Archer 464–67, Kaiser, et al. 254). There is a subtle wrinkle in Ahasuerus’ words to Esther and Mordecai, as he seems to imply there is a way to countermand a law in such a way as to make it powerless (Esth. 8:10–12). They received authority, but not a map, highlighting that this could have gone as bad as it went well.

The Ascendency of Mordecai (Esth. 8:9–17)

Esther 8:9a timestamps Mordecai’s “self-defense law” to Sivan, twenty-third, 472/1 BC. This is about two months after Haman had enacted his pogrom on Nisan, the thirteenth of the same year (Esth. 3:7, 12). Looking forward, Mordecai only had about nine months to protect the Jews in Susa and across the Persian empire from genocide (Esth 8:12).

Esther 8:9b–14 reports how Mordecai commanded the king’s scribes to write the countermand “self-defense” edict and to dispatch its copies across the vast terrain of the Persian empire in a hurry. It is seemingly Mordecai’s first act of business. Little did Mordecai expect that when he exchanged messages with Esther to take her newfound position to protect the Jews (Esth. 4:11–17), he himself would also be God’s providential instrument. He looked for “relief and deliverance” from “another place,” even from Esther. This was perhaps an unexpected turn of events, as are all moments when God places “us” into the heart of the story.

Cline describes Mordecai’s countermand as “ingenious” (393). The king provided no direct advice but seemingly implied there was a loophole. Mordecai, then, read between the lines of power and “effectively” annulled it. Seemingly, he concluded that if a law cannot be revoked, it can be countermanded. The narrative mirrors Haman’s enactment of his pogrom (Esth. 3:12–15; 8:9b–14).[7] Mordecai’s decree is a revised duplicate of Haman’s original, but with significant differences. He adds the permission of the Jews to defend themselves with lethal force, even permitting them to plunder their aggressor’s goods (Esth. 8:11). Again, there has been movement but no final resolution. Two Persian laws exist, one which allows the Persians to attack the Jews, and another authorizing the Jews to protect themselves.

This new decree is sent out by “couriers, mounted on their swift horses that were used in the king’s service…” (Esth. 8: 10, 14). There was a courier road system established by Darius I, known as the “Royal Road” which extended from Susa to Sardis in the west (Yaumachi 1:343). On average, a route of 1,700 miles could be covered by the average person in ninety days (19 miles a day), but royal couriers (rākibum) could cover the same mileage in a week (243 miles a day) as they traded horses and rode through the night (Herodotus, Histories, 8.98; 5.52–53). Additionally, the “swift horses” (rékesh) are specialized horses used in the king’s royal dispatch systems (1 Kings 4:28; Mic. 1:13; BDB 940). In the course of about nine months (Sivan to Adar), these riders would carry multiple copies of the decree, likely engraved clay tablets, from Susa to all the provinces from India to Ethiopia.

The narrative quickly fades and opens to the public presentation of Mordecai in Susa, the capital, arrayed as a member of the royal court (fine royal garments, a great golden crown; Esth. 8:15). This is quite a turn of events for what initially seemed to be a “tag along” figure to his adoptive daughter. Only through a series of fortunate events, interwoven with despair, had he come to this point as the “invisible” hand of God protected his people in the diaspora of Persia. Mordecai’s presentation to the public is likely the first sign to the Jewish community in Susa that things in Persia have truly changed in their favor (Esth. 8:17).

What had become his ascendency story, quickly became the cause of the city of Susa to rejoice; but now more importantly this transition of power gifted the Jewish people four things: light, gladness, joy, and honor (Esth. 8:16). Additionally, the favor now given to Mordecai and his people led many citizens of Persia to “declared” (or “professed”) “themselves Jews” as well (Esth. 8:17). The form (miteyahadim) is unique in the Hebrew Bible. It is not clear if this is a “conversion” to Jewish beliefs, customs, or practices; or, pragmatically, aligning with the Jews for advantage (Berlin, 80; Mangano 110). Berlin is right, however, “there was no middle ground” (80). Much had been gained, but things still wait to play out. The glow of hope is on the horizon.

Finally, there is some “unfinished business” to round out this discussion. Since ancient rabbinic times, it has been suggested that the tension between Haman, the Agagite (Esth. 3:1), and the Jews in Persia materialized an extended hostility between God and the Amalekites (Webb 126–28). Exodus 17:14b reads, “that I will utterly blot out the memory of Amalek from under heaven.” The notation that Haman is a descendent of Agag, king of the Amalekites (1 Sam. 15:8), seems to lend support to this view, though other possibilities may exist. In parody to the various nations with long-held grudges against Israel (Ammon, Edom, Moab, etc.; Ezek. 25:1–17), Mordecai seemingly only inflames Haman’s preexisting hostility toward all the Jews. This ancient tension seems like a likely explanation for the roots of Haman’s anti-Semitism.

Again, what are the odds that the chief antagonist and architect for the genocide was a descendant of Agag, king of the Amalekites the enemies of God (Deut. 25:17–18)? What are the odds, that the man who replaces him is Mordecai, a descendant from the same clan of King Saul (Esth. 2:5; 1 Sam. 9:1–2)? The demise of Haman and the ascendency of Mordecai seem to play out as part of God’s continued protection of Israel even if they are in Persia (Gen. 12:3).

ILLUSTRATIONS

The Hiddenness of God

In the original Quantum Leap series (1989–1993), a fictional Dr. Samuel Beckett created the technology to time travel within his own lifetime. The opening narrator to the show says Beckett was

driven by an unknown force to change history for the better… leaping from life to life, striving to put right what once went wrong…[8]

It was the first show I watched where a Sci-Fi show made God a subtle but hidden main character, who was significantly aligned with Beckett’s desire to do good. Even in the reboot, they raised the potential of God again,

Something supernatural is not entirely impossible. Sam Beckett believed that God was guiding the quantum accelerator.[9]

There are times in our lives when all we know is that God is doing something in our lives, but we must live in faithful service to God with the hope that we may one day learn what that “something” is.

The Corruption of Power

Although humanity was created to subdue the earth and have dominion over it for good (Gen. 1:28), history is replete of individuals amassing and abusing their power. These regimes have brought tremendous human evil into the world. Clay Jones outlines a short but appalling list (49–56):

  • Russia’s starving to death of 5–7 million people to quell an uprising of Ukrainians between 1932–1933;
  • Nazi Germany’s genocide of 6 million Jews and an equal amount of Poles, Ukrainians, Russians, Gypsies, and the handicapped;
  • in December 1937, 300,000 people were raped, tortured, and murdered by the Japanese army in an event known as “The Rape of Nanking”;
  • Mao Tse-tung (d. 1976) is known to have buried alive 46,000 scholars in China;
  • since 1973, the legal system of the United States has permitted us and our neighbors to put to death more than 58 million babies through abortion.

Esther 8 reminds us of the importance to use opportunities of power to protect, with force if necessary, the vulnerable against evil forces (Creach 96).[10]

APPLICATIONS

Timeless Applications

First, Let us pray for our civic and religious leaders “that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way” (1 Tim. 2:2). Imperfect people of God can be used as part of God’s sovereign economy over world affairs. The portrayals of Esther and Mordecai are not always flattering; in fact, they are very compromising.

Esther works her way through the harem to win the king’s favor. Mordecai is an arrogant man, whose spite likely accelerated Haman’s attack on the Jews. Nevertheless, they accepted that God is working through their rise to the royal court and used their opportunity to be God’s instruments to protect his people (Esth. 4:14; 8:1–17).

Second, let us live with confidence that God intervenes in our lives. Divine providence is purposeful intervention. A definition of providence defined by the “natural law” of deism is a dead end, as it fails to account for the supernatural nature of an interventional God. Providence is by definition a supernatural manipulation of the human story to accomplish God’s will.

The ascendency of Mordecai and the “self-defense” law of Esther 8 do not happen without a series of seemingly disconnected events orchestrated together for the common good of the diaspora Jews. Perhaps, providence may be described as a “nudge” (Philm. 15), but that nudge is the result of supernatural intervention.

Timely Applications

First, let us embrace the “exile” and “pilgrim” components of our faith. We do not have a border-bound nation as such, we are pilgrims and our citizenship is in heaven (1 Pet. 1:1, 17; 2:11). Most commentaries highlight the secular nature of Esther and the Jews in Persia, and yet, it is rich with faith, divine providence, divine faithfulness, and feasting and fasting. Western Christians are facing the overt secularization of the culture and our youth. Every generation needs to learn how to navigate the societies of our birth with love and godly concern to share the gospel, with the knowledge that our citizenship lies in the heavens (Phil. 3:20).

Second, let us use wisdom and prayerful patience when deciding when to use force to protect the vulnerable. Not every issue is genocide, nor is every social figure a Haman. As “social justice” issues reemerge as a cultural touchstone in the United States, the church must take on its challenge with wisdom, awareness of the issues, and humble approaches that empower every Christian with the confidence to speak truthfully and to act graciously against injustice in our communities.

Christians must not only distinguish between the obligations owed to the government and to God (Matt. 22:21) but also distinguish between what is just and unjust (Rom. 12:1–2). Martin Luther King, Jr., following Augustine, rightly observed, “an unjust law is no law at all” (lex iniusta non est lex).[11] God’s people must not fall prey to the fallacy, “it’s the law of the land,” when we have a higher law, “we must obey God rather than man” (Acts 5:29).

ENDNOTES

  1. The “decree” and “edict” which Haman organized to “destroy” the Jews and seize their wealth is often described as an ancient pogrom. A pogrom is “an organized massacre” and is particularly associated with the historical persecution of the Jews. For the purpose of this study, the term will be used alongside genocide.
  2. The story reflected in Esther is unique in that it is the only canonical text which provides information about the Jews between the return under Zerubbabel (538 B.C.) and Ezra (458 B.C.). The Jews living among the “127 provinces” represent the third group of Jews, those who did not return with Zerubbabel (Provan, Long, and Longman 295).
  3. David Allan Hubbard in his chapter on Esther notes, “Coincidences in Esther are the fingerprints of God’s hand at work” (LaSor, Hubbard, and Bush 538).
  4. This follows A. D. Godley’s translation of Herodotus, Histories.
  5. This follows William Whiston’s translation of Josephus, Antiquities.
  6. The type of figure Haman held described as being “advanced” and a throne “set” “above all of the officials with him” (Esth. 3:1–2), has given cause to describe him as the king’s vizier, or something along the lines of a Prime Minister. This is the role Mordecai now holds. A cuneiform tablet in Borsippa mentions the name Marduka, a financial official of King Xerxes I (cf. Ahasuerus), which is an Akkadian equivalent to Mordecai. Although it cannot be proved to be Esther’s Mordecai, the “coincidence, if only that, is very interesting” (Báez-Camargo 137).
  7. The parallels: the timestamp, the date for the law, the language of the edict, the use of the king’s scribes, the same recipients (satraps and governors), provincial languages and scripts, in the name of the king, the use of the king’s signet ring (with its unique crest), and dispatched by couriers.
  8. Words from the season one prologue of the original Quantum Leap series.
  9. Quote from the reboot season 1, episode 7, “O Ye of Little Faith.”
  10. Jerome F. D. Creach addresses the symbolic theology of God warring against “the enemies of God” (Sodom, Egypt, Amalek) while largely dismissing the historical reliability of Esther. Immaterial to his approach is his astute observation that the legacy of human evil “makes understandable other parts of the Bible that seem to permit violence in defense of the powerless and vulnerable” (96).
  11. An Unjust Law is no Law at All: Excerpts from ‘Letter from Birmingham Jail,” Intercollegiate Studies Institute, January 18, 2021, November 24, 2022.

WORKS CITED

An Unjust Law is no Law at All: Excerpts from ‘Letter from Birmingham Jail.” Intercollegiate Studies Institute. January 18, 2021. Accessed: November 24, 2022.

Archer, Gleason L. A Survey of Old Testament Introduction. 3rd edition. Chicago: Moody, 1994.

Arnold, Bill T., and Bryan E. Beyer. Encountering the Old Testament: A Christian Survey. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1999.

Báez-Camargo, Gonzalo. Archaeological Commentary on the Bible. Garden City: Doubleday, 1984.

Berlin, Adele. Esther. The JPS Bible Commentary. Edited by Nahum M. Sarna. Philadelphia, PA: Jewish Publication Society, 2001. Logos electronic edition.

(BDB) Brown, Francis, Samuel Rolles Driver, and Charles Augustus Briggs. Enhanced Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977. Logos electronic edition.

Cline, David J. A. “Esther.” Pages 387–94 in Harper’s Bible Commentary. Edited by James L. Mays. New York: Harper, 1988.

Creach, Jerome F. D. Violence in Scripture. Interpretation. Edited by Patrick D. Miller. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2013. Kindle edition.

Herodotus. The Histories. Trans. by A. D. Godley. Ed. A. D. Godley. Medford, MA: Harvard University Press, 1920. Logos electronic edition.

Jones, Clay. Why Does God Allow Evil? Compelling Answers for Life’s Toughest Questions. Eugene: Harvest House, 2017. Kindle edition.

Josephus, Flavius. The Works of Josephus: Complete and Unabridged. Trans. William Whiston. Peabody: Hendrickson, 1987. Logos electronic edition.

Kaiser, Walter C., Jr., Peter H. Davids, F. F. Bruce, and Manfred T. Brauch. Hard Sayings of the Bible. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1996.

LaSor, William Sanford, David Allan Hubbard, and Frederic William Bush. Old Testament Survey: The Message, Form, and Background of the Old Testament. 2nd edition. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1996.

Longman, Tremper, III., and Raymond B. Dillard. An Introduction to the Old Testament. 2nd Edition. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2006.

Mangano, Mark. Esther and Daniel. CPNIVC. Edited by Terry Briley and Paul Kissling. Joplin: College Press, 2001.

Provan, Ian, V. Phillips Long, Tremper Longman, III. A Biblical History of Israel. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2003.

Webb, Barry G. Five Festal Garments: Christian Reflections on the Song of Songs, Ruth, Lamentations, Ecclesiastes and Esther. New Studies in Biblical Theology. Edited by D. A. Carson. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 2000.

Yamauchi, Edwin M. “Communications and Messengers.” Pages 337–57 in vol. 1 of Dictionary of Daily Life in Biblical and Post-Biblical Antiquity. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2014–2016.


Titus 1:2: Does God Choose Not to Lie?

Recently, in discussing the character and omnipotence of God Titus 1:2 was cited to extend the argument that while God may have all power (omnipotence) to do what lends itself to being accomplished, there are certain tensions one must also accept. Namely, there are some things God cannot do or be. Despite having all power God does not tempt people to do evil (Jas 1:13), nor is it possible for God to lie (Heb 6:18). It was argued then that temptation and deception are against his nature despite all of his power.

Is Choice Implied?

There seemed to be some confusion, however, based on the translation of the phrase ho apseudēs theos, “God, who does not lie” (NIV, REB, NAB), “God, never lies” (ESV, NRSV), and the older, “God, who cannot lie” (KJV, NKJV, ASV, NASB95). These are the most common translations of two terms in Titus 1:2, the adjective apseudēs (truthful/deceitless) and God (theos).

It was suggested in a discussion that the translation of the NIV (cf. LEB, REB, NABR, TEV, NIRV, JB, NLT), could lend itself to the notion that it is possible for God to lie but He does not because He chooses not to lie. This would reframe the discussion of the nature and character of God by opening the possibility that God is good by choice rather than being good by nature.

This raises the question of whether the character of God is immutable, that is whether his holy character changes over time or not. The immutability of God means, for example, that God is holy and will always be holy.[1] On this view, there will never be a time when God is not holy. If God’s character is mutable (subject to change), however, then it is possible for God to act in an unholy manner. This view is inconsistent with the overall theme of God’s infinite holy character.

Does Titus 1:2 lend itself as evidence to this point of view? No, for three reasons. First, the term apseudēs is used in various Greek sources as a description (as an adjective) for “gods and divine things.”[2] Second, the adjective is verbless and without action. Third, the context of the letter to Titus contrasts the lying Cretans (1:12) against the truthful God (1:2).

The Adjective

First. Apseudēs is used in various Greek sources as a description (an adjective) for “gods and divine things”; however, Titus 1:2 is its only biblical use. It is also found once in Greek Jewish wisdom literature regarding the “unerring knowledge” given by God (Sirach 7:17 NRSV). Unlike the usual positive word for “truth” in the NT (alétheia), apseudēs is a negative word (non-liar) which means: “without lie and deceit, … sincere, trusty,”[3] “free from all deceit, … trustworthy,”[4] and “pertaining to not speaking falsehood — ‘truthful.’”[5]

The word is a striking description of “divine beings” and God. This use is found between the 5th century BC to the early second century AD.[6] Paul is known to quote ancient Greek sources as in the probable use of the playwright Menander in 1 Corinthians 15:33: “Bad company ruins good morals” (Thais). Paul used the infamous saying of the Cretan teacher named Epimenides (500 BC) in Titus 1:12: “Cretans are always liars, evil beasts, lazy gluttons.”

Plato said, “the divine and the divinity are free from falsehood” and “that Phoebus’ divine mouth could not lie” (Republic 2.382e, 383b). Ignatius, a known disciple of John, spoke of Jesus’ mouth as “the unerring mouth” of revelation (Romans 8.2). In the Martyrdom of Polycarp, Polycarp prays to God at his death “you are the unerring and true God” (14.2). Greeks used the term to describe their gods; meanwhile, Christians used it to describe the true God.[7]

It is important to remember that Paul leans on the thought patterns of the Hebrew Bible (Rom 3:3–4, 2 Tim 2:13).[8] Balaam spoke the Lord’s word when he said, “God is not man, that he should lie” (Num 23:19), and Samuel told King Saul that “the Glory of Israel [i.e. God] will not lie…” (1 Sam 15:29). Likewise, in keeping with these verses are the inspired words, “it is impossible for God to lie” (Heb 6:18).

The Descriptive

Second. The adjective is verbless and without action. In English, adjectives often are said to describe a person, place, thing, or function. For example, “it was a fast train” and “the clock was fast.” In Greek, however, the adjective can function in two technical ways, it either (a) makes an assertion about the noun — the word is good (predicate), or (b) limits or tells what noun we are referring to — the good word (attributive). The adjective, then, “modifies a noun by ascribing a quality to it.”[9]

Here are a couple of examples of how this plays out in other passages with a similar grammatical structure as Titus 1:2:

  • “the first day” = “the day — namely the first one” (Phil 1:5)
  • “the good shepherd” = “the shepherd — namely the good one” (John 10:11)
  • “the good wine” = “the wine — namely the good one” (John 2:10)

In the same way, the adjective here describes God as deceitless, not that God chooses to not lie. He is God — namely the deceitless One. Thus, Titus 1:2 is not a statement of action, but a description of Divine character (God’s attributes). God does not lie because God is void of falseness.

The Contextual Purpose

Third. The context of the letter to Titus contrasts the lying Cretans (1:12) against the truthful God (1:2). The description of God as apseudēs (deceitless) is in contrast to the Cretans who are pseustai — liars. It is the only time both words are used in Titus. The significance of the connection is found in 1:2, speaking of the hope of eternal life established by God who is deceitless in the quality of His character (Heb 6:18). This message and hope are contrasted with the teachers on the island of Crete who are asserted to be deceivers (“liars,” 1:12).

The difference is subtle but the difference is everything.  

Interestingly, Epimenides’ infamous saying is based on the Cretan claim “to possess a tomb of Zeus, who, of course, as a god, cannot have died!”[10] It is said that even in ancient times this was criticized by Callimachus (305–240 BC) as inconceivable that the king of the gods should be dead and buried.[11] The absurdity illustrates the need to reject and silence the false teachers who are equally “liars,” opportunists, and reject the truth (Titus 1:10-16).

Titus, on the other hand, bears a message of hope and salvation, and embraces truth (1:1) because it issues from the “God, whose very nature is the absence of falsehood.”[12]

Conclusion

This short piece only reminds us that human language has limits when we engage “God talk” (i.e., theology), but we can usually find a reasonable understanding.

Does Titus 1:2 suggest that God chooses to be truthful and not lie, or is this a statement about God’s character as being deceitless, a non-liar? The above lines of reasoning suggest that the Greek phrase ho apseudēs theos is a description of God’s character, God — namely the deceitless God.

Unfortunately, to make the thought more natural in English translations supply an action verb, but this is not the sense. Still, it is perhaps best, but not perfect, to translate Titus 1:2 as: “Our God is no liar” (The Voice).

Endnotes

  1. R. C. Sproul, What Can We Know About God? (Orlando, FL: Reformation Trust, 2017), 8.
  2. Martin Dibelius and Hans Conzelmann, Pastoral Epistles, trans. P. Buttolph and A. Yarbro (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1972), 131.
  3. H. G. Liddell, Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon, electronic ed. (1888; repr., Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, 1996), 142.
  4. BDAG 161.
  5. L&N 88.40.
  6. Dibelius and Conzelmann, Pastoral Epistles, 131.
  7. BDAG 161
  8. George W. knight, III. Pastoral Epistles (1992; repr., Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013), 284.
  9. James A. Brooks and Carolton L. Winbery, Syntax of New Testament Greek (1979; repr., Lanham: University Press of America, 1988), 70.
  10. Gordon D. Fee, 1 and 2 Timothy, Titus (1988; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 2000), 179.
  11. Ralph P. Martin, “1, 2 Timothy, Titus,” in Harper’s Bible Commentary, ed. James L. Mays (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988), 1243.
  12. Homer A. Kent, Jr., The Pastoral Epistles: Studies in 1 and 2 Timothy and Titus, rev. ed. (1986; repr., Winona Lake, IN: BMH Books, 2006), 210.

Sources

(BDAG) Bauer, Walter, et al. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. 3rd edition. Chicago: University of Chicago, 2000.

Brooks, J.A., and C.L. Winbery. Syntax of New Testament Greek. 1979. Reprint, Lanham: University Press of America, 1988.

Dibelius, M., and H. Conzelmann. Pastoral Epistles. Trans. P. Buttolph and A. Yarbro. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1972.

Fee, Gordon D. 1 and 2 Timothy, Titus. 1988. Reprint, Peabody: Hendrickson, 2000.

Kent, H.A., Jr. The Pastoral Epistles: Studies in 1 and 2 Timothy and Titus. Revised ed. 1986. Reprint, Winona Lake, IN: BMH Books, 2006.

Knight, George W., III. Pastoral Epistles. 1992. Reprint, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2013.

(L&N) Louw, J.P., and E.A. Nida. A Greek-English Lexicon Based on Semantic Domains. 2d edition. New York: United Bible Societies, 1996.

Liddell, H.G. Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon. 1888. Reprint, Oak Harbor: Logos Research Systems, 1996.

Martin, Ralph P. “1, 2 Timothy, Titus” in Harper’s Bible Commentary, edited by James L. Mays. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988.

Sproul, R. C. What Can We Know About God? Orlando, FL: Reformation Trust, 2017.

Marcion and the Formation of the New Testament Canon

This paper discusses one particular complex external historical figure in the history of the shaping of the New Testament canon: Marcion of Sinope (c. AD 85–160) and his influence. Did Marcion create the idea to form a New Testament canon?

This is principally a historical exploration; however, there are numerous theological aspects that must be reflected upon and critiqued in order to have a functional and accurate understanding of Marcion’s role.

Factors and Dynamics

The history of the biblical canon is home to many overlapping complexities. The study of these aspects reveals the richness of canonical development, especially when one differentiates between the histories of the Hebrew and the Christian canons respectively.[1] 

Canonical development can be studied from a theological vantage point, taking into account theological motives for the collection of books; however, such theological motivations must also be placed in a historical framework.[2] On this point, note Nicolaas Appel: “the mystery of Scripture and faith of the Christian community go hand in hand. The canon of Scripture and human history cannot be separated.”[3] The development of the canon combines theology and history, consequently, one’s approach must of necessity intertwine these two factors.

These dynamics of theology and history may be described as internal and external factors. Church historian, Everett Ferguson, differentiates between these somewhat intuitive concepts:

The conviction of a new saving work of God in Christ, its proclamation by apostles and evangelists, and the revelation of its meaning and application by prophets and teachers, led naturally to the writing of these messages and their acceptance as authoritative in parallel with the books already regarded as divine. External factors did not determine that there would be a New Testament canon nor dictate its contents. However, external factors influenced the process of definition and likely hastened that process.[4]

(Ferguson, “Factors”)

The external factors are largely seen as “debates in the post-apostolic church” where the matter was how to find the “voice of revelation and authentic Christianity” in the midst of doctrinal controversy. Thus, as a matter of course, external factors helped in the “definition of the boundaries of right belief”–orthodoxy.[5]

Marcion’s influence in the church came about for several reasons and is not limited to his gnostic tendencies. Marcion rejected a large number of canonical works: the entire Old Testament, and all of the New Testament canon except for eleven edited documents (Luke, Romans-2 Thessalonians, Philemon). In essence, in creating a list of authoritative books it may be said that he created a canon, though likely this was a list of edited documents that represented his particular view of Christianity. Historically, Marcion’s list is considered the earliest “canonical list” of the new Christian community.[6] Consequently, a discussion has arisen, questioning if Marcion is “the father” of canonical development.

Marcion’s early second-century A.D. formation of a collection of authoritative documents affirming Christian faith is chronologically significant.[7] Until Marcion’s time, the post-apostolic church does not appear to have outlined a collection, consequently, some scholars believe that Marcion initiated the contours of the New Testament canon. Others believe a better explanation is that Marcion merely sped along a pre-existing process. After all, the theological principle of the canon was well understood among Jewish Christians, having a canonical set of books of their own.[8]

Additionally, the apostles’ oral preaching and written instruction to the churches demonstrated their authority.[9] But what shall be here presented is that from a practical point of view, a fluid form of a “canon” existed in the late first century and early second century, even if quantitatively incomplete.[10] If this can be shown, then Marcion is not the creator of the idea of the Christian canon.[11]

Marcion of Sinope (c. AD 85–160)

Background

One cannot understand Marcion’s role in the formation of the canon without consideration of his life and beliefs. Church historian, Philip Schaff, remarks that Marcion was raised in a Christian tradition in Pontus near the Black Sea; in fact, his father was a bishop of Sinope in Pontus.[12] Despite being zealous and sacrificial, “due to some heretical opinions,” Schaff observes, he “was excommunicated by his own father, probably on account of his heretical opinions and contempt for authority.”[13]

After leaving Pontus, Marcion traveled to Rome (A.D. 140–155), joined Cerdo (a Syrian Gnostic), and popularized his views among the various Italian churches during his preaching tours.[14] It was during this period that Marcion made a name for himself in Christian history, as he advanced his Christian-based Gnostic teaching, and edited a corpus of New Testament works. Bruce Metzger notes that Marcion was eventually excommunicated in Rome for his heretical views.[15] This move only solidified Marcion as a significant heretic of his time, so much so, that Edwin Yamauchi ranks him among the top eight Gnostic heretics of the second and third centuries.[16]

A Gnostic Heretic

Marcion is “known” as a Gnostic heretic of the ancient church, but one must be cautious regarding such labels. Harold Brown provides one particular strong reason why. Brown distinguishes between the gnostic movement  –“a widespread religious phenomenon of the Hellenistic world at the beginning of the Christian Era”– and the Christian manifestation of this movement designated Gnosticism (lowercase g, versus uppercase G).[17] Brown’s distinction is noteworthy as the Christian gnostic movement, Gnosticism, was “a response to the widespread desire to understand the mystery of being: it offered detailed, secret knowledge of the whole order of reality, claiming to know and to be able to explain things of which ordinary, simple Christian faith was entirely ignorant.”[18]

As a fundamental aspect of this belief, existence was viewed as “a constant interplay between two fundamental principles, such as spirit and matter, soul and body, good and evil.”[19] But the gnostic worldview and its Christian mutation are not monolithic.

Edwin Yamauchi notes that Marcion “was not a typical Gnostic. He stressed the need of faith rather than gnosis. But his attitude toward the Old Testament was typically Gnostic.”[20] Thus, Marcion was not always fully aligned with other Gnostic ideas. Despite this distinction, it is noteworthy to see how Irenaeus (b. AD 130), a contemporary critic of Marcion, describes Marcion’s influence and placement among the gnostics in the church.

Irenaeus places Marcion within the stream of Cerdo, a second-century gnostic teacher:

Marcion of Pontus succeeded him [Cerdo], and developed his doctrine. In so doing, he advanced the most daring blasphemy against Him who is proclaimed as God by the law and the prophets, declaring Him to be the author of evils, to take delight in war, to be infirm of purpose, and even to be contrary to Himself.[21]

(Against Heresies 1:27:2)

Irenaeus affirms a connection between Cerdo and Marcion flavored with “passing of the heretical torch” overtones. Justin Martyr (c. AD 100–165) regarded him as one who “the devils put forward” (1 Apology 58); moreover, Irenaeus reports that, “Polycarp himself replied to Marcion, who met him on one occasion and said, ‘Dost thou know me?’ ‘I do know thee, the first-born of Satan’” (Against Heresies 3.3.4).

Ferguson suggests patristic descriptions like these of Marcion are rather important because it demonstrates how the early church remembered him; he was a heretic, not a benchmark in canonical development.[22]

Assessing Marcion’s Theology

Unfortunately, Marcion’s work does not exist in any extant manuscript. Outside of his prologues found in Latin New Testament texts, his views are only extant by references in the works of others.[23] Marcion’s only known work is called Antitheses (“Contradictions”), which served in an introductory capacity to his collection of documents.[24] It is not all sure what exactly was in Antitheses; consequently, as Bruce Metzger words it, “we have to content ourselves with deducing its contents from notices contained in the writings of opponents – particularly in Tertullian’s five volumes written against Marcion.”[25] Extant patristic authors who paid particular attention to Marcion are Justin Martyr (1 Apology), Irenaeus (Against Heresies), and Hippolytus (Refutation of All Heresies).

Christian historians are left to boil down Marcion’s beliefs. Schaff suggested three points at the maximum.[26] John Barton, however, reduces his theology in a two-fold manner.[27]

In Schaff’s summary of Marcion’s religious views, he acknowledges his Gnostic influences and beliefs but qualifies that Marcion was also a firm believer in Christianity as the only true religion. Still, it must be reminded that it was Marcion’s version of Christianity which he thought was the only true religion. Schaff writes:

Marcion supposed two or three primal forces (archaí): the good or gracious God (theòs agathós), whom Christ first made known; the evil matter (húlē), ruled by the devil, to which heathenism belongs; and the righteous world-maker (dēmiourgòs díkaios), who is the finite, imperfect, angry Jehovah of the Jews.[28]

(Schaff, History of the Christian Church 2.484).

Marcion, though, rejected the “pagan emanation theory, the secret tradition, and the allegorical interpretation of the Gnostics,” the typical gnostic tenets of Pleroma, Aeons, Dynameis, Syzygies, and the suffering Sophia.[29] These are the various ways in which Marcion did not stand in the same grouping as other Gnostics of his era. Yet, in short, on Schaff’s evaluation, Marcion believed in the good God of Jesus, an evil material universe, and that the Old Testament God was a finite imperfect world-marker. These are clearly on the grid of Gnosticism.

John Barton argues compellingly, however, that Marcion was in error in two large ways, each of which revealed how he viewed the Bible. The first is found in how he interpreted the God of the Old Testament:

[Marcion] had rejected the Old Testament as having any authority for Christians, arguing that the God of whom it spoke, the God of the Jews, was entirely different from the Christian God who had revealed himself in Jesus as the Savior of the world; indeed, it was from the evil creator-god of the Old Testament that Jesus had delivered his followers.[30]

John Barton “Marcion”

Justin Martyr similarly declares, Marcion teaches

his disciples to believe in some other god greater than the Creator. And he, […], has caused many of every nation to speak blasphemies, and to deny that God is the maker of this universe, and to assert that some other being, greater than He, has done greater works.[31]

(First Apology 26)

The second problem Marcion was in his truncation and editorial work on his collection of New Testament documents.[32] Irenaeus wrote:

[Marcion] mutilates the Gospel which is according to Luke, removing all that is written respecting the generation of the Lord, and setting aside a great deal of the teaching of the Lord, in which the Lord is recorded as most dearly confessing that the Maker of this universe is His Father. […]. In like manner, too, he dismembered the Epistles of Paul, removing all that is said by the apostle respecting that God who made the world.[33]

(Against Heresies 1:27:2)

As Tertullian writes, “Marcion expressly and openly used the knife, rather than the pen,” demonstrating that Marcion had a theological purpose for his “final cut.” Such “excisions of the Scriptures” was made, Tertullian explains, “to suit his own subject matter” (Prescription Against Heresies 38).[34]

In Barton’s view, Marcion rejected the Old Testament and accepted Jesus Christ and Christianity apart from Hebrew influences. He did not reject the notion that the God of the Old Testament existed. In fact, he firmly believed that he did. “The problem,” as Barton observes, “was that his creation was evil, and he himself therefore was a malign being; it was precisely the role of Jesus and of the Unknown God now revealed in him, to deliver humankind from the malice of the evil Creator.”[35] The rejection of the Old Testament must be qualified because Marcion accepted its divine origin, only that it is the result of an evil god.[36]

Marcion’s so-called “canon” was, in essence, a product of his version of the Gospel message, namely that “the good news of Jesus and the salvation brought by him” showed that the Old Testament was “the utterances of an evil being.”[37] Yet, his action to establish what he believed to be the authentic “gospel” also “cut” a line in the sand. Retrospectively, his actions affected the history of the Christian canon.

Marcion’s Collection and the Canon

Marcion’s Collection

F. F. Bruce observed that Marcion became the “first person known to us who published a fixed collection of what we should call the New Testament books.”[38] Whether or not others had done so before Marcion is irrelevant, Bruce asserts, as there is no knowledge of any other list.[39]

Marcion’s Antithesis was a treatise on the incompatibility of “law and gospel, of the Creator-Judge of the Old Testament and the merciful Father of the New Testament (who had nothing to do with either creation or judgment).”[40] This led to his bipartite collection (Gospel and Paul). As framed by Tertullian, Marcion composed of a mutilated version of Luke and “dismembered” parts of Paul’s epistles, which were all subject to his editorial “knife.”[41] This collection appeared and began to be circulated around A.D. 140 at the earliest, and possibly A.D. 150 due to a late edition of Luke.[42]

Marcion’s collection of the Gospel and Paul included an edited Gospel of Luke and a reduced Pauline corpus composed of Romans, 1–2 Corinthians, Galatians, Laodiceans (i.e., Ephesians), Philippians, Colossians, 1–2 Thessalonians, and Philemon. This was Marcion’s “canon.” But what is canon?

What is Canon?

The word “canon” (kanōn) has three basic meanings which play, as Harry Gamble observed, some role in the conception of the canonization of Scripture.[43] Deriving from the literal origin of being a reed of bulrush or papyrus, the Greek word kanōn came to denote for the craftsman a “measuring rod,” a “rule,” or simply put “a tool for measurement or alignment” hence “straight rod.”[44] The literal meaning gave way to metaphorical usage in keeping with the concept of standardization, thus canon became also synonymous with “an ideal standard, a firm criterion against which something could be evaluated and judged.”[45] Canon also came to mean “a list” or “a catalog” which seems to have been based on the calibration marks on the reed stick.[46]

All these uses of the canon have also found their way into the broader limits of the liberal arts for identifying unparalleled standards, but when it applies to sacred literature “canon denotes a list or collection of authoritative books.”[47] Canonical Christian literature as Scripture means these works are “the rule of faith” (regula fidei) and “the rule of truth” (regula veritatis); and as such, they are governing normative standards of apostolic faith with inherent value.[48]

It would be a mistake to think of a book that had to wait to be on a list to be regarded as canonical, or representative of faith and truth. As will be noted, canonicity is a qualitative threshold, not a quantitative one. It would be a mistake to think that simply on the grounds of Marcion’s list there were no other books recognized as possessing canonical status.

The Emerging Qualitative Canon

There is sufficient evidence to demonstrate that a fluid form of a canon existed–albeit quantitatively incomplete–in the late first century and the early second century.[49] Two passages that are particularly noteworthy are 2 Peter 3:15–16 and 2 Timothy 4:11–13, for they demonstrate that Paul’s letters were already being collected in the first century. Even if a pseudepigraphic near-second-century view of these epistles is correct, which is still a matter of dispute, the documents are still primary witnesses to the collection process of New Testament documents during this era.[50]

Factors Hindering the Formation of the Canon

Before evaluating what 2 Timothy and 2 Peter bring to the discussion of Marcion’s role in the formation of the New Testament canon, it appears vitally important to remember that there were various factors that hampered the collection process.

Dowell Flatt, Bible Professor of New Testament studies (Freed-Hardeman University), notes that there are at least seven important factors that hampered the canonization process of the New Testament.[51] First, the Old Testament was employed authoritatively and interpreted Christologically by the early church, consequently, “it did not immediately appear that another set of books would be needed.”

Second, the early church was still under the shadow of the Lord’s presence, and many of them would feel “no need for a written account of his life.”

Third, eyewitnesses (apostles and close disciples) to the Lord’s life and work were still alive (1 Cor 15:6); consequently, this adds to the strength of the second point.

Fourth, oral tradition was a vital element in the early Jewish make-up of the early church, and “as strange as it might sound to modern ears, many Jewish teachers did not commit their teachings to writing.” Oral tradition was important even around 130 A.D. for Papias felt that “the word of a living, surviving voice” was more important than “information from books.”[52] Some of the importance placed upon oral tradition is due to the expense of books, and illiteracy; and that Jesus did not write or command his disciples to write a word.[53]

Fifth, the nature of many apostolic writings was letters, not literary works, so is it understandable that “such writings” as the letters “were slow to be fully recognized as Scripture.” Sixth, the belief in a realized eschatology in the first century had “some influence” in hampering of the canonization process.

Seventh, the divinely inspired would speak a prophetic word, and while this was available the church was in no need of a written record per se (Flatt 139). Kurt Aland observes the second-century church, living beyond this blessing, “began to carefully distinguish between the apostolic past and the present.”[54]

King McCarver adds an eighth factor. There was no “ecclesiastical organization” that “composed or established the canon,” but instead the slow reception of these works at various intervals, across a large geographical region, of the early church was the context of the early sifting process before the councils.[55]

Evidence from 2 Peter and 2 Timothy

If Peter is the author of 2 Peter, which the author believes there is sufficient evidence to suggest he is, then the 2 Peter would be dated in the early 60s of the first century (before his traditional martyrdom in A.D. 65). Should 2 Peter be late, the epistle is typically dated to the end of the first century. This is principally due to the strong verbal allusions in the Apostolic Fathers, particularly in 1 Clement (A.D. 95–97) and 2 Clement (A.D. 98–100).[56] The latest reasonable date for 2 Peter is A.D. 80–90, generally argued for by Richard Bauckham, who views the letters as non-Petrine.[57]

In a similar fashion, if Paul is the author of 2 Timothy then it would generally be accepted to be also written in the first century (A.D. 55-60s), before his martyrdom, traditionally under Nero (A.D. 68). However, as W. Kümmel asserts, being a proponent of pseudepigraphic authorship of the pastorals (1 Timothy, 2 Timothy, and Titus), if 2 Timothy is not Pauline then it was probably penned around the “beginning of the second century.[58]

With these relevant items in mind, attention is now given to 2 Timothy and 2 Peter.

2 Peter 3:14–17

2 Peter 3:14–17 is the capstone of a moral argument set forth in the epistolē, rising from both apostolic theology and eschatology. The text may be translated as follows:

[14] Therefore, loved ones, since you wait for these things be eager to be found by him as spotless ones and blameless ones in peace; [15] and consider the patience of our Lord as salvation, just as also our beloved brother Paul (according to the wisdom entrusted to him) wrote to you,[16] as also by all [his] letters addressing these things in them, in which it is hard to understand some things, which those who are ignorant and unstable twist to their own destruction as also the remaining Scriptures. [17] You therefore, loved ones, knowing in advance, be on your guard, in order that you may not be carried away from [your] firm footing by the error of lawless people. (Author's Translation)

Of particular interest here is the vocabulary employed in verses 15–16, for it is very clear that the author of 2 Peter is employing the authoritative weight of the Apostle Paul and the group of his letters (pásais epistolaís, “all [his] letters”) to support his argument. Moreover, the false teachers, characterized as being “ignorant” (amatheís) and “unstable” (astēriktoi), are twisting (strebloúsin) Paul’s words and the “remaining Scriptures” (tàs loipàs graphàs) to their “destruction” (apōleian).

The language itself bears very close similarities with canonical language; basically, language which recognizes normative revelation.[59] Conceptionally, the author of 2 Peter is appealing to an inspired holy prophet (i.e., Paul 3:15; cf. 1:20–21; 3:2), the normative Scriptures of the Hebrews (3:5–6), and himself implicitly as one who can identify the “prophetic word” (1.19). Despite one’s views towards the authorship of 2 Peter this simple observation must not be overlooked. Neyrey, who questions the validity of the argument here, recognizes that this may be a claim of “legitimacy […] There is only one tradition of teaching of God’s judgment and Jesus’ parousia.” This has the double effect of authenticating 2 Peter’s argument, while “automatically discrediting” the false teachers.[60]

Richard Bauckham likewise agrees that the author, whoever he is, “wishes to point out that his own teaching (specifically in 3:14–15a) is in harmony with Paul’s because Paul was an important authority for his readers.”[61] The appeal to a normative standard is definitely a necessity in order to demonstrate the validity of the argument. Is that not a canonical concept?

If the author of 2 Peter is employing normative, or standard theological argumentation based upon authoritative figures (Paul and the Old Testament) the implication is that the false teachers are not. Even if they are, the false teachers are so misconstruing Paul and the Old Testament’s affirmations that they are “torturing” them, to the point of making them appear as if they teach something that they do not (strebloúsin); thus, the audience is to understand that there is a normative standard.[62]

The language of the passage is again revealing. Paul is regarded as one who was endowed with wisdom (dotheísan autō sophían), which is a natural allusion to his direct reception of revelation elsewhere synonymously described (1 Cor 2:11–13 lambánō; Gal 1:12–17 apokalúpseōs).[63] The Pauline letters, however many are referred to, are saturated by this wisdom, but are subject to the false teacher’s interpretive methods, and since they are torturing them this behavior leads to their own destruction.

It seems that this destruction stems from the fact that Paul’s letters and tàs loipàs graphàs (“the remaining Scriptures”) in some way share the same character.[64] 2 Peter 3.16 connects this torture of tàs loipàs graphàs to their destruction as well, meaning that the same kind of punishment awaiting those who distort the meaning of Paul’s letters is awaiting those who twist the “rest of the Scriptures.”[65] This refers to the Old Testament Scriptures[66]; even Bauckham, who is opposed to Petrine authorship, concedes at the least that “it would make no sense to take graphàs in the nontechnical sense of ‘writings’; the definite article requires us to give it its technical sense” though he conceives of other books in the author’s purview.[67] Likewise, Earl J. Richard observes, “that the author means to include in this category the OT Scriptures is obvious, but beyond that it is unclear what Christian works would have been thus labeled.”[68]

From these observations, the proposition is advanced that the author of 2 Peter grounds his argumentation in a reference to accepted authority (tradition, or standard). This authority is threefold:  his prophetic office as an apostle; the Apostle Paul’s pásais epistolaís; and the Old Testament. Regardless of the position taken on the authorship question of 2 Peter, the method of argumentation is generally transparent despite some criticism of the validity of the logic within 2 Peter 3:15–16, particularly the admission of the difficulty of Paul’s treatment of some matters.[69] As a document existing before Marcion’s influential era, it poignantly addresses its audience with canonical overtones, demonstrates boldly that Marcion could have not fathered the notion of a New Testament canon, for the Peter appeals to the canon of the Hebrew Bible and a fluid Pauline canon-corpus.

One of the main arguments for 2 Peter 3.15-16 is that there is a Pauline corpus of indefinite size (pásais epistolaís), that both the author and his audience were aware of. Therefore, some consideration of an early Pauline corpus must be given. Some working theory of how Paul’s letters were collected and then circulated must be formulated. It is argued here that the process was both gradual in scope and immediate to Paul. The basis for this belief is grounded in slow circulation among the churches, the typical secretarial duty to make copies, and the arrival and usage of the codex.[70] McCarver observes that the occasional nature of the epistles highlights the point that there was some specificity to a given locale, and consequently as other churches desired copies the “exchange and copying” was gradual.[71]

Randolph Richards, while arguing for an unintentional collection, provides evidence that Paul would have had a copy of any letter in which he employed a secretary.[72] It appears to have been a standard secretarial task to make a copy for a proficient letter writer, and then place it within a codex for safekeeping, which in turn would be a depository for later publication if desired. A codex then became a warehouse for a penman; it would allow the neat copying of helpful phrases or expressions for another letter. Likewise, the secretary would have a copy of the letters for records. Thus, Richards argues that the codex became a practical matter, which ultimately became a pivotal matter in the formation of a Pauline corpus.[73]

2 Timothy 4:11–13

Despite the work being considered pseudonymous by many scholars, 2 Timothy 4:11–13 contributes to this discussion. The text reads:

[11] Luke alone is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is very useful to me for ministry. [12] Tychicus I have sent to Ephesus. [13] When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, also the books, and above all the parchments. (Holy Bible, ESV)

The term “parchments” (membránas) is rather interesting since Paul, according to Richards, “is the only Greek writer of the first century to refer to membránai, a Roman invention.”[74] Parchment codices were used to retain copies of letters for future use to prepare rough drafts of other letters later written to be dispatched.

Interestingly, Richards ponders how this passage is affected if 2 Timothy is non-Pauline, and says that it only affects the explicit claim by Paul, but one can still “contend for Paul’s retaining his copies in a codex notebook solely because of customary practice.”[75] If 2 Timothy is Pauline, it would not be too much longer before Peter would arrive in Rome, if he had not been in Rome already.

Richards speculates fairly that “if Paul retained copies, then in the early 60s there was possibly only one collection in existence – namely, Paul’s personal set of copies.”[76] In connection the Peter and 2 Peter 3:15–16, Richards writes:

The possibility of Peter’s being aware of these [Paul’s person set of letters] or even having read them would be remote unless one postulate, as early traditions do, that Peter and Paul were both in Rome in the early 60s. In such a case, Peter a was in the only place where he could have seen copies of Paul’s letters. It is not unreasonable then to suggest that Peter would not have reviewed what had been written to churches in Asia Minor by Paul before he himself wrote to them, particularly if he was aware that some were confused by Paul’s letters.[77]

Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection of Paul’s Letters”

Such evidence appears compelling, however, it must be regarded as probable. Despite some of the speculative nature of the reconstruction, Richards’ theory holds up rather strongly with what would have taken place if the traditions of Paul and Peter are correct, and further addresses in a realistic fashion how Peter would have had access to a corpus of Paul’s letters. To say the least, 2 Timothy bolsters the argument made here that there was the beginning of a New Testament document collection earlier than Marcion’s canon.

In light of these points, Simon J. Kistemaker makes a contributing observation that adds bulk to the view that the documents themselves were intrinsically authoritative, but it took time for the church universal to sift through this tremendous body of literature and come to an agreement. Kistemaker argues that the church was accepting a qualitative canon until it accepted a quantitative canon:

“The books themselves, of course, have always been uniquely authoritative from the time of their composition. Therefore, we speak of a qualitative canon in early stages that led to a quantitative canon centuries later. The incipient canon began to exist near the end of the first century. The completed canon was recognized by the Church near the end of the fourth century.[78]

Kistemaker, “The Canon of the New Testament

Consequently, as has often been maintained, “the church did not create the canon,” but instead, developed from the bottom of the post-apostolic church structure to the top in the various councils to give focused attention to the authenticity of these works.[79]

Assessment

What may be said then regarding Marcion’s role in the formation of the New Testament Canon? Marcion does take a large place in New Testament canonical discussions. C. F. D. Moule poses several possibilities: “was Marcion’s [canon] the first canon, and is the orthodox canon the catholic [i.e. universal] Church’s subsequent reply? Or did Marcion play fast and loose with an already existing canon?” Moule’s answer: “There is at present no absolutely conclusive evidence for the existence of a pre-Marcionite catholic canon. Marcion may have been the catalyst […]. We cannot be certain.”[80]

However, because of the evidence above, it appears that there is more reason to suggest that Marcion was a catalyst to speed along what had been taking a slow time to develop.

Despite Marcion being the first person known to us who published a fixed collection,”[81] that propelled the church at large to collect an authoritative set of Scripture,[82] the only way, as Ferguson argues, that it can be accepted that Marcion created the canon is possible, is “only by not recognizing the authority that New Testament books already had in the church.”[83] Metzger frames the situation well:

If the authority of the New Testament books resides not in the circumstance of their inclusion within a collection made by the Church, but in the source from which they came, then the New Testament was in principle complete when the various elements coming from the source had been written. That is to say, when once the principle of the canon has been determined, then ideally its extent is fixed and the canon is complete when the books which by principle belong to it have been written. (Metzger 283-84)[84]

Metzger, The Canon of the New Testament

Truly, if the New Testament documents are going to be canonical, then they must have been such due to their inherent value which was theirs as they were completed by God’s spokesperson.

In the end, it is argued in agreement with E. Schnabel, that while Marcion may be the first known person to have put together a list of books in the canonical sense, which provoked the church “to draw up its own list,” he did not, however, create the fundamental idea of that a book (or list of books) could be authoritative (i..e, canonical)–an idea which had existed in earlier Christian times.[85]


Endnotes

  1. Eckhard Schnabel, “History, Theology, and the Biblical Canon: An Introduction to Basic Issues,” Them 20.2 (1995): 19–21.
  2. Wilber T. Dayton, “Factors Promoting the Formation of the New Testament Canon,” JETS 10 (1967): 28–35.
  3. Nicolaas Appel, “The New Testament Canon: Historical Process and Spirit’s Witness,” TS 32.1 (1971): 629.
  4. Everett Ferguson, “Factors Leading to the Selection and Closure of the New Testament Canon: A Survey of Some Recent Studies,” in The Canon Debate, edited by Lee M. McDonald and James E. Sanders (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002), 295.
  5. Ferguson, “Factors,” 309.
  6. F. F. Bruce, The New Testament Documents: Are they Reliable? 5th ed. (repr., Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000), 22.
  7. F. F. Bruce, The Canon of Scripture (Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1988), 134.
  8. Milton Fisher, “The Canon of the New Testament,” The Origin of the Bible, ed. Philip Comfort (Wheaton: Tyndale, 2003), 65.
  9. Fisher, “Canon of the New Testament,” 69.
  10. Simon J. Kistemaker, “The Canon of the New Testament,” JETS 20 (1977): 10.
  11. Schnabel, “History,” 19.
  12. Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church (1858–1867; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002), 2:484.
  13. Schaff, History, 2:484.
  14. Ibid.
  15. Bruce M. Metzger, The Canon of the New Testament: Its Origin, Development, and Significance (Oxford: Oxford UP, 1997), 90.
  16. Edwin Yamauchi, “The Gnostics and History,” JETS 14 (1971): 29.
  17. Harold O. J. Brown, Heresies: Heresy and Orthodoxy in the History of the Church (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2000), 39.
  18. Brown, Heresies, 39.
  19. Brown, Heresies, 40.
  20. Yamauchi, “Gnostics and History,” 29.
  21. All Ante-Nicene Fathers quotations are taken from Ante-Nicene Fathers, edited by Alexander Robertson and James Donaldson (1885; repr., Peabody: Hendrickson, 2004).
  22. Ferguson, “Factors,” 309-10.
  23. This is much like how the views of Porphyry, the neo-platonic antagonist of Christianity, are known (Bruce, Canon, 141).
  24. Metzger, Canon, 91; Ferguson, “Factors,” 309.
  25. John Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” The Canon Debate, edited by Lee M. McDonald and James E. Sanders (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002), 341–54. 353; Metzger, Canon, 91.
  26. Schaff, History, 2.484.
  27. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 341.
  28. Schaff, History, 2.484.
  29. Schaff, History, 2.484-85; Yamauchi, “Gnostics and History,” 30-33.
  30. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 341.
  31. Justin Martyr, First Apology 26. Translated by Marcus Dods and George Reith in Ante-Nicene Fathers, edited by Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature, 1885). Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight.
  32. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 341.
  33. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1:27:2. Translated by Alexander Roberts and William Rambaut in Ante-Nicene Fathers, edited by Alexander Roberts, James Donaldson, and A. Cleveland Coxe (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature, 1885). Revised and edited for New Advent by Kevin Knight. 
  34. Tertullian, Prescription Against Heresies 38; David W. Bercot, ed., “Marcion,” A Dictionary of Early Christian Beliefs (1998, reprint, Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2000), 420.
  35. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 344.
  36. Barton, “Marcion Revisited,” 345.
  37. Ibid., 345.
  38. Bruce, Canon, 134.
  39. Ibid., 134.
  40. Bruce, Canon 136
  41. Irenaeus, Against Heresies 1:27:2; Tertullian, Prescription Against Heresies 38.
  42. Thomas D. Lea, and David Alan Black, The New Testament: Its Background and Message, 2nd ed. (Nashville: Broadman, 2003), 73; Merrill C. Tenney and Walter M. Dunnett, New Testament Survey. Rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2001), 408; Metzger, Canon, 98.
  43. Harry Y. Gamble, The New Testament Canon: Its Making and Meaning (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985), 15–18; BDAG 507–08.
  44. Gamble, Canon, 15; MM 320.
  45. Gamble, Canon, 15
  46. Gamble, Canon, 15
  47. Richard N. Soulen and R. Kendall Soulen. Handbook of Biblical Criticism, 3rd ed. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2001), 29.
  48. Cecil M. Robeck, Jr., “Canon, Regulae Fidei, and Continuing Revelation in the Early Church,” Church, Word, and Spirit:  Historical and Theological Essays in Honor of Geoffrey W. Bromiley, edited by James E. Bradley and Richard A. Muller (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987), 70; Gamble, Canon, 16–17; Linda L. Belleville, “Canon of the New Testament,” Foundations for Biblical Interpretation, edited by. David S. Dockery, Kenneth A. Matthews, and Robert B. Sloan. Nashville: Broadman, 1994. 375: Lea and Black, The New Testament, 70–71.
  49. Kistemaker, “Canon,” 13.
  50. D. A. Carson, Douglas J. Moo, and Leon Morris, An Introduction to the New Testament (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1992), 367–71, 433–35.
  51. The main list of this section comes from Dowell Flatt, “Why Twenty-Seven New Testament Books?” Settled in Heaven: Applying the Bible to Life, edited by David Lipe (Henderson, TN: Freed-Hardeman University, 1996), 139; cf. James A. Brooks, Broadman Bible Commentary, edited by Clifton J. Allen (Nashville: Broadman, 1969), 8:18–21.
  52. Paul L. Maier, translator, Eusebius: The Church History – A New Translation with Commentary (Grand Rapids: Kregel, 1999), 127.
  53. On illiteracy see Alan Millard, Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus (Sheffield, England: Sheffield, 2001), 154–84. On the point that there is no explicit command by Jesus to write biblical books see D. I. Lanslots, The Primitive Church, Or The Church in the Days of the Apostles (1926, reprint, Rockford, IL: Tan Books, 1980), 102–09.
  54. Kurt Aland, “The Problem of Anonymity and Pseudonymity in Christian Literature of the First Two Centuries,” JETS 12 (1961), 47.
  55. King McCarver, “Why Are These Books in the Bible? – New Testament,” God’s Word for Today’s World:  The Biblical Doctrine of Scripture, edited by Don Jackson, et al. (Kosciusko, MI: Magnolia Bible College, 1986), 88; Kistemaker, “Canon,” 13.
  56. Michael W. Holmes, editor, The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004), 23, 104; Robert E. Picirilli, “Allusions to 2 Peter in the Apostolic Fathers,” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 33 (1988), 57–83.
  57. Richard J. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter (Waco, TX: Word, 1983), 157–58.
  58. Werner Georg Kümmel, Introduction to the New Testament, translated by Howard Clark Kee (Nashville: Abingdon, 1986), 387.
  59. D. Edmond Hiebert, “Selected Studies from 2 Peter Part 4: Directives for Living in Dangerous Days: An Exposition of 2 Peter 3:14-18a,” BSac 141 (1984): 336.
  60. Jerome H. Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude: A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary (New York: Doubleday, 1993), 250.
  61. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 328.
  62. BDAG 948.
  63. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 329.
  64. Hiebert, “Selected Studies,” 336; Thomas R. Schreiner, 1, 2 Peter, Jude (Nashville: Broadman, 2003), 397–98; L&N 1:61.
  65. BDAG 602; W. Günther H. Krienke, “Remnant, Leave,” NIDNTT 3:252.
  66. Raymond C. Kelcy, The Letters of Peter and Jude (Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1987), 162; Tord Fornberg, An Early Church in a Pluralistic Society: A Study of 2 Peter, translated by Jean Gray (Sweden: Boktryckeri, 1977), 22; Krienke, “Remnant, Leave,” 252.
  67. Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, 333.
  68. Earl J. Richard, Reading 1 Peter, Jude, and 2 Peter: A Literary and Theological Commentary (Macon, GA: Smyth, 2000), 390.
  69. Luke T. Johnson, The Writings of the New Testament: An Interpretation (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1986), 443–44; Richard, 1 Peter, Jude, and 2 Peter, 388; Neyrey, 2 Peter, Jude, 250.
  70. McCarver, “Why Are These Books in the Bible?,” 88; E. Randolph Richards, “The Codex and the Early Collection of Paul’s Letters,” BBR 8 (1998): 155–66.
  71. McCarver, “Why Are These Books in the Bible?” 88.
  72. Richards, “The Codex,” 158–59.
  73. Richards, “The Codex,” 162–66.
  74. Richards, “The Codex,” 161.
  75. Richards, “The Codex,” 159–62.
  76. Richards, “The Codex,” 165.
  77. Richards, “The Codex,” 165–66.
  78. Kistemaker, “Canon,” 13.
  79. Kistemaker, “Canon” 13; McCarver 88-90; Flatt 140-42
  80. C. F. D. Moule, The Birth of the New Testament (London: Black, 1973), 198.
  81. Bruce 134
  82. Edward W. Bauman, An Introduction to the New Testament (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1961), 175.
  83. Ferguson, “Factors,” 309–10.
  84. Metzger, Canon, 283–84
  85. Schnabel, “History, Theology,” 19.

Bibliography

Aland, Kurt. “The Problem of Anonymity and Pseudonymity in Christian Literature of the First Two Centuries.” Journal of Theological Studies 12 (1961): 39-49.

Appel, Nicolaas. “The New Testament Canon: Historical Process and Spirit’s Witness.” Theological Studies 32.1 (1971): 627-46.

Barton, John. “Marcion Revisited.” The Canon Debate. Eds. Lee M. McDonald and James E. Sanders. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002. 341-54.

Bauckham, Richard J. Jude, 2 Peter. Word Biblical Commentary. Vol. 50. Gen. eds. David A. Hubbard and Glenn W. Barker. Waco, TX:  Word, 1983.

Bauman, Edward W. An Introduction to the New Testament. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1961.

(BDAG) Bauer, Walter, F.W. Danker, William F. Arndt, and F. Wilbur Gingrich. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and other Early Christian Literature. 3rd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000.

Belleville, Linda L. “Canon of the New Testament.” Foundations for Biblical Interpretation: A Complete Library of Tools and Resources. Eds. David S. Dockery, Kenneth A. Matthews, and Robert B. Sloan. Nashville: Broadman, 1994.

Bercot, David W. Editor. A Dictionary of Early Christian Beliefs. 1998. Reprint, Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2000.

Brooks, James A. Broadman Bible Commentary. Vol. 8. Ed. Clifton J. Allen. Nashville: Broadman, 1969.

Brown, Harold O. J. Heresies: Heresy and Orthodoxy in the History of the Church. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2000.

Bruce, F.F. The Canon of Scripture. Downers Grove: InterVarsity, 1988.

—. The New Testament Documents: Are they Reliable? 5th ed. Leicester/Grand Rapids:  InterVarsity/Eerdmans, 2000.

Carson, D.A., Douglas J. Moo, and Leon Morris. An Introduction to the New Testament. Grand Rapids:  Zondervan, 1992.

Dayton, Wilber T. “Factors Promoting the Formation of the New Testament Canon.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 10 (1967): 28-35.

Ferguson, Everett. “Factors Leading to the Selection and Closure of the New Testament Canon: A Survey of Some Recent Studies.” The Canon Debate. Eds. Lee M. McDonald and James E. Sanders. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002. 295-320.

Fisher, Milton. “The Canon of the New Testament.” The Origin of the Bible. Ed. Philip Comfort. Wheaton: Tyndale, 2003. 65-78.

Flatt, Dowell. “Why Twenty Seven New Testament Books?” Settled in Heaven: Applying the Bible to Life. Ed. David Lipe. Annual Freed-Hardeman University Lectureship. Henderson, TN: Freed-Hardeman UP, 1996. 138-45.

Fornberg, Tord. An Early Church in a Pluralistic Society: A Study of 2 Peter. Trans. Jean Gray. Sweden:  Boktryckeri, 1977.

Gamble, Harry Y. The New Testament Canon: Its Making and Meaning. Philadelphia: Fortress, 1985.

Hiebert, D. Edmond. “Selected Studies from 2 Peter Part 4:  Directives for Living in Dangerous Days:  An Exposition of 2 Peter 3:14-18a.” Bibliotheca Sacra 141 (1984): 330-40.

Holmes, Michael W. Ed. The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations. Rev. ed. Grand Rapids: Baker, 2004.

Johnson, Luke T. The Writings of the New Testament:  An Interpretation. Philadelphia:  Fortress, 1986.

Kelcy, Raymond C. The Letters of Peter and Jude. The Living Word Commentary:  New Testament. Vol. 17. Ed. Everett Ferguson. Abilene, TX:  Abilene Christian UP, 1987.

Kistemaker, Simon J. “The Canon of the New Testament.” Journal of Evangelical Theological Society 20 (1977):  3-14.

Krienke, W. Günther H. “Remnant, Leave.” New International Dictionary of the New Testament Theology. Vol. 3. Ed. Colin Brown. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1978. 247-54.

Kümmel, Werner Georg. Introduction to the New Testament. Trans. Howard Clark Kee. Nashville: Abingdon, 1986.

Lanslots, D. I. The Primitive Church, Or The Church in the Days of the Apostles. 1926. Reprint, Rockford, IL: Tan Books, 1980.

Lea, Thomas D., and David Alan Black. The New Testament:  Its Background and Message. 2nd ed. Nashville:  Broadman, 2003.

(L&N) Louw, Johannes P., and Eugene A. Nida. Eds. Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament Based on Semantic Domains. 2nd ed. New York: United Bible Society, 1989. 2 vols.

Maier, Paul L. Trans. Eusebius:  The Church History – A New Translation with Commentary. Grand Rapids:  Kregel, 1999.

McCarver, King. “Why Are These Books in the Bible? – New Testament.” God’s Word for Today’s World:  The Biblical Doctrine of Scripture. Don Jackson, Samuel Jones, Cecil May, Jr., and Donald R. Taylor. Kosciusko, MI: Magnolia Bible College, 1986.

Metzger, Bruce M. The Canon of the New Testament: Its Origin, Development, and Significance. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1997.

Millard, Alan. Reading and Writing in the Time of Jesus. Sheffield, England:  Sheffield, 2001.

Moule, C.F.D. The Birth of the New Testament. London: Black, 1973.

(MM) Moulton, James H., and George Milligan. The Vocabulary of the Greek Testament. 1930. Peabody:  Hendrickson, 1997.

Neyrey, Jerome H. 2 Peter, Jude:  A New Translation with Introduction and Commentary. Anchor Bible. Vol. 37 C. Gen. ed. William F. Albright and David Noel Freedman. New York: Doubleday, 1993

Picirilli, Robert E. “Allusions to 2 Peter in the Apostolic Fathers.” Journal for the Study of the New Testament 33 (1988):  57-83.

Richard, Earl J. Reading 1 Peter, Jude, and 2 Peter: A Literary and Theological Commentary. Reading the New Testament Series. Macon, GA:  Smyth, 2000.

Richards, E. Randolph. “The Codex and the Early Collection of Paul’s Letters.” Bulletin for Bulletin Research 8 (1998):  151-66.

Robeck, Cecil M., Jr. “Canon, Regulae Fidei, and Continuing Revelation in the Early Church.” Church, Word, and Spirit:  Historical and Theological Essays in Honor of Geoffrey W. Bromiley. Eds. James E. Bradley and Richard A. Muller. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1987.

Robertson, Alexander, and James Donaldson. Eds. Ante-Nicene Fathers. Vols.1, 3-4. 1885. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2004.

Schaff, Philip. History of the Christian Church. Vols. 1-3. 1858-1867. Peabody: Hendrickson, 2002.

Schnabel, Eckhard. “History, Theology, and the Biblical Canon: An Introduction to Basic Issues.” Themelios 20.2 (1995): 16-24.

Schreiner, Thomas R. 1, 2 Peter, Jude. The New American Commentary. Vol. 37. Gen. ed. E. Ray Clendenen. Nashville: Broadman, 2003.

Soulen, Richard N., and R. Kendall Soulen. Handbook of Biblical Criticism. 3rd ed. Rev. and expanded. Louisville: WJK, 2001.

Tenney, Merrill C., and Walter M. Dunnett. New Testament Survey. Rev. ed. Revised by Walter M. Dunnett. Grand Rapids/Leicester: Eerdmans/InterVarsity, 2001.

Yamauchi, Edwin. “The Gnostics and History.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 14.1 (1971): 29-40.


The Humanity of Jesus the Son

The phrases Jesus Christ, the Christ of faith, the Jesus of history, and Jesus the Divine Son all reflect significant themes pertaining to the central figure of the New Testament, Jesus of Nazareth. These concepts fall within a specialized area of theology known as Christology, which is a systematic “study of Christ” based on the full biblical picture derived from scripture.

A bit more formally, this field of study speaks to the Christian endeavor to map Jesus’ placement within “time and eternity, humanity and divinity, particularity and universality.” It answers how the life of a seemingly benign first-century Jewish rabbi could be so “relevant for all people and all times” (McGrath 2017, 207).

The present discussion maps Jesus’ Son-relationship in the triune unity of God, and the nature of his humanity. It then reflects on how the humanity of Jesus is relevant to the Christian’s personal walk before God.

Jesus the Son and the Trinity

The Trinitarian Formula

The divinity of Jesus is established in many passages of the New Testament. For example, Matthew closes with an appearance of Jesus where he affirms his authority “in heaven and on earth.” With this authority, he commissions his disciples for an international burden,

“Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (28:18–19 NRSV). [All Scripture references are from the New Revised Standard Version unless otherwise noted.]

Three themes are clear in this passage: Jesus’ divine authority, discipleship made in baptism, and the trinitarian language of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In the early generations of the church, the above trinitarian formula would represent a highly nuanced concept of monotheism affirmed to be in continuity with the “one God” of the Hebrew Bible.

What forced early Jewish Christians to accept this nuanced view of monotheism? The answer: the character and nature of Jesus did. It is not subversive of the “oneness” of God (Deut 6:4) but depends on the New Testament’s clarification that the “one God” is not a simplistic model. As the clarification argues, the Divine Son is not God the Father, nor is he the Holy Spirit. This raises tough questions that the historical church has discussed in earnest and in conflict for generations.

How do we map this out theologically?

The Divine Son Portrayed

We turn to the presence of Jesus and how He is portrayed in relation to the Father and the Holy Spirit.

In the first century, the prologue to the Fourth Gospel (John 1:1–3, 14) affirms that the person and nature of Jesus is the driving force to reshape the whole biblical landscape of the concept of God (Gen 1:1; Exod 20:11).

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being... And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John 1:1–3a, 14) 

Jesus not only pre-existed as the lógos at the time of creation (John 1:1), but he also “emptied” (ekénōsen) himself to take on the “form [morphē] of a slave”—a human (Phil 2:6–7). Leaning heavily on John 1:14, the Alexandrian theologian, Athanasius, concluded that this “human body” was taken by this same “Word of God” (Placher 2003, 184).

On this view, there was no room within this theology for Arius’ affirmation that Jesus the Son—the Word—was a created being who subsequently became divine. This view reduced Jesus to a creature impotent to redeem humanity (McGrath 2017, 217–19).

The Divine Association

As McGrath (2017, 214) chronicles, the divinity of Christ was one of the first major theological battles of the early church as it sought to hammer out its understanding of the contours of a very genuine human being in Jesus who, at the same time, was portrayed as being more than a mere human. The “battle” was not over the deity of Christ as such (that was established), but how to understand the relationship between his humanity and his divinity.

The divinity of Jesus was therefore accepted as true as his humanity—as affirmed in Chalcedon (AD 451)—which means that the question left to map out was the relationship between Jesus and the Father and the Holy Spirit.

The only way to do this is by evaluating Scripture (Jenson 2003, 194). Despite certain reservations, Jenson argues clearly that Peter’s application of the divine title “Lord” from Joel 2 (kyrios LXX) to Jesus in Acts 2:33–34 (kyrios) demonstrates that

the risen Christ, without violation of God’s singularity, does what only the God of Israel himself does, and that he does this precisely by virtue of his situation with the God of Israel. (2003, 194)

Jensen in Essentials of Christian Theology (2003)

Jensen points out that the emerging notion of association that comes from the word “with” points to the “inescapably observable fact” that the biblical narrative is framed by three divine characters in its drama (2003, 195): the God of Israel, Jesus his Son, and the life-giving Spirit of God.

Agreeing with Jenson (2003, 196), Jesus should not be viewed as a mere successive mode of God’s presence in time (modalism) or as the Father’s subordinate agent with the Spirit in time (subordinationism). Instead, Jesus maintains an eternally mutual and reciprocal relationship with the Father and the Spirit. For this reason, ancient Christians used an analogy inspired by the theater, that is to say, that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit although three in persona (mask) are one in Divine substance. Another model is found in Martin Buber’s I-You relationship model (McGrath 2017,179–80).

Understanding the Humanity of Jesus

What, then, goes into mapping this theological tension of the Son and the Trinity?

Mapping the nature of Jesus’ humanity—in balance with his divinity—requires great caution. The traditional doctrine of the incarnation (literally, “becoming bodily”) affirms both the full humanity of Jesus and his divinity. Any attempt to isolate what is organically interwoven in the person and work of Jesus runs a high risk of distortion.

Overcompensating to account for the humanity of Jesus has typically been met with the “stamp” of heresy. Three, in particular, are Ebionism, Arianism, and Docetism (McGrath 2017, 214–20). 

The roots of Ebionism are Jewish. It framed Jesus through the lenses of a human prophet, as called and anointed by the Holy Spirit. As a low Christology, Jesus is only a “spiritually superior” human. This does not align with the picture of his eternal pre-existence as Creator.

Plotted on another point on the map is Arianism (named after Arius), which called into question the “fully divine” and “fully human” affirmation due to an irreconcilable application of the Greek notion of divine impassability and the doctrine of the incarnation. God cannot be both changeable (fully human) and transcendent (fully divine), therefore, the incarnation strikes at the perfect nature of the one God. Jesus must therefore be a “superior created being” with nothing divine to report. This failed to account for the actual testimony of the gospels where in fact this is possible.

Meanwhile, Docetism affirmed, with its hardline separation of God and the present evil world of matter (due to its gnostic foundation), the divine incarnation of John 1:14 was nothing more than “pretend.” The heresy’s name (or tendency) is derived from the Greek word dokéō (“to seem”) affirming Jesus only “seemed” to have a body in which he suffered and died, making the incarnation “into a fake” (Placher 2003, 183). Scripturally, the work of Christ is dependent on the fully human (Luke 24:38–39) and fully divine Jesus manifested in the death of the cross and resurrection from the dead (Rom 1:3–4).

Similarly, the opening line of 1 John affirms the humanity of the “Word of Life”: “what we have heard, what we have seen with our eyes, what we have looked at and touched with our hands” (1:1).

Likewise, in the second century CE, Ignatius of Antioch (ca. 35–ca. 110) stressed his concern to the Christians of Trallia that they should guard against (“be deaf,” kōphóthēte 9.1) anything which undermines the humanity of Christ with the following words:

Jesus Christ, who was of the family of David, who was the son of Mary; who really was born, who both ate and drank; who really was persecuted under Pontius Pilate, who really was crucified and died while those in heaven and on earth and under the earth look on; who, moreover, really was raised from the dead when his Father raised him up, who—his Father, that is—in the same way will likewise also raise us up in Christ Jesus who believe in him, apart from whom we have no true life. (“To the Trallians” 9.1–2)

Ignatius of Antioch, “To the Trallians” 9.1-2

The example of Ignatius is interesting because it is early and strongly affirms Jesus’ human form, “who really” (hos alethōs) an adverb repeated four times to assert what is true, actual because it corresponds to what is really so (BDAG 44). For Ignatius, Jesus actually was born, ate and drank, persecuted, crucified and died, and raised from the dead. Ignatius saw denying the humanity of Christ as subversive to the soteriological (the saving, redeeming) and eschatological (end times, fulfilling) work of Christ.

What Does This Mean?

What then does it mean for the Christian that God became flesh to redeem us in the person of Jesus Christ? Two extremes must be cautioned against here. One extreme is to moralize the life of Jesus (1 Pet 2:21), and as such reduces Jesus to a mere good teacher. Another extreme is to make Jesus’ life and teaching into a disjointed symbolic presence of God (i.e., Paul Tillich).

The humanity of Jesus provides me with a great deal of assurance as a believer that God knows through Christ the human plight. Jesus has “assumed all” and can, therefore “heal all” of humanity (Placher 2003, 184). When the “name” Immanuel (“God is with us”) is given to Jesus (Matt 1:23) the associated promise is that “he will save his people from their sins (Matt 1:21). God’s presence in the human child to be born provides a personal locus that can be isolated to time, space, and history.

For all humans, it then becomes quite clear that God is joining the human continuum to reconcile not only “us” but also “the world to himself” in Christ (2 Cor 5:18–19). Paul’s application has massive personal repercussions,

“if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new!” (5:17) 

The humanity of Jesus is not simply a modal expression of God, but God entering into time and space to save, forgive, reconcile, and renew humanity and creation.

It provides the seedbed to take the particular localized Jesus and affirm his enduring value for all humans for all time. As Ignatius wrote, God “will likewise also raise us up in Christ Jesus who believe in him, apart from whom we have no true life” (“To the Trallians” 9.2).

Truly, the humanity of the God-Man Jesus is relevant for the Christian’s personal walk before God because it is the seedbed for all our hopes, especially, hope for the resurrection (1 Cor 15:12–19).

Bibliography

(BDAG) Bauer, Walter, Frederick W. Danker, W. F. Ardnt, and F. W. Gingrich. 2000. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature. 3rd edition. Chicago: University of Chicago.

Ignatius. 1999. “The Letters of Ignatius, Bishop of Antioch.” Pages 128–201 in The Apostolic Fathers: Greek Texts and English Translations. 2d edition. Edited and revised by Michael W. Holmes. Grand Rapids: Baker Books.

Jenson, Robert W. 2003. “Does Jesus Make a Difference? The Person and Work of Jesus Christ” Pages 191–205 in Essentials of Christian Theology. Edited by William C. Placher. Louisville, Kent: Westminster John Knox.

McGrath, Alister E. 2017. Christian Theology: An Introduction. 6th edition. Maldon, Ma: Wiley Blackwell.

Placher, William C. 2003. “Does Jesus Make a Difference? The Person and Work of Jesus Christ” Pages 183–91 in Essentials of Christian Theology. Edited by William C. Placher. Louisville, Kent: Westminster John Knox.

Jesus Haunted and Biblically Illiterate?

There is a common lesson drawn from slowly boiling a frog. It is said that if you place a frog in a pot of boiling water it will leap out, and for obvious reasons. That is no place for a frog! However, place the same frog in a pot of water and then slowly raise the temperature of the water, the frog does not react but slowly boils to death.

The lesson suggests that if we are immediately thrust into a hostile environment, we would see the danger(s) and flee for our lives. Dangers are easy to see in this light; however, when placed to a “slow boil” we do not see the hazardous situation we are in until we are “boiled alive.”

Learning to Pay Attention

As Christians, the analogy emphasizes that we need to be aware of our environment and the slow and steady influences which undermine the principles of biblical Christianity. One of the problems the American church is facing in many places is advocating faith in Jesus apart from a rich knowledge of God’s Word, the Bible.

Paul himself presented a similar warning in Ephesians 5:15–16:

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. (ESV)

One of the Christian’s greatest challenges since the first century AD has been to be aware of the cultural forces – religious or philosophical – which serve as the mores of society. Christians today face a similar dilemma.

A Secular Cultural Shift

The culture of the United States of America, traditionally “known” for its connection to Christian principles, has been eroding this long-cherished relationship and has steadily shifted towards a secular society. This was not always the case as Robert Peterson concludes:

[T]he cornerstone of early American education was the belief that “children are an heritage from the Lord.” Parents believed that it was their responsibility to not only teach them how to make a living, but also how to live. As our forefathers searched their Bibles, they found that the function of government was to protect life and property. Education was not a responsibility of the civil government.[1]

Robert A. Peterson, “Education in Colonial America”

A major source for education in reading and civil government was the Bible. Today that openness to the Bible is not present. Our “school system,” for example, is far removed from any association with the Bible – some in recent history have even banned them from school grounds.

Our society encourages the idea and practice of dislodging the Bible from the forum of open discussion and the sharing of ideas. Instead, entertainment and secular reasoning have become the new soil of our new heritage. Today, we glue our eyes to consume the latest from our favorite reality star, muscian, celebrity crush, YouTube, TikTok, and other social influencers.

The culture at large has shifted, but so has the church.

Jesus Haunted and Biblically Illiterate

Despite however this apparent distance between our culture and the Bible, the market is saturated with Bibles of every variety, commentaries, and books on Jesus. In fact, the nation still celebrates events in the life and ministry of Jesus – the Christmas (the birth of Jesus) and Easter (the resurrection of Jesus) Holidays. Are these traditional holidays enough?

“Religious” holidays are not enough to inform us about Jesus, especially when they are repackaged by marketing campaigns; and here lies the main problem. The problem is as Ben Witherington III states it:

In America we live in a Jesus-haunted culture that is biblically illiterate. Jesus is a household name, and yet only a distinct minority of Americans have studied an English translation of the original documents that tell us about Jesus, much less read them in the original Greek. In this sort of environment, almost any wild theory about Jesus or his earliest followers can pass for knowledge with some audiences, because so few people actually know the primary sources, the relevant texts, or the historical context with which we should be concerned.[2]

Ben Witherington, III, What Have They Done With Jesus? (New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 2006)

The question before us is whether or not we will see that our culture is becoming less and less informed regarding Jesus and the Bible. More to the point, will the church wake up to its present reality that perhaps more than ever we look at the world distinctly secularly. The church is a country club where we have a membership, rather than a movement that needs “my” commitment to it in order to share the gospel message and live out its teaching in “my” community.

Is it possible, we are haunted and illiterate because the church has also had a cultural shift where Jesus and his story are not at the center of all we do? Have we lost the following attitude?

We must go everywhere proclaiming the Word (Acts 8.4), affirming that there is one savior and mediator to God (1 Tim 2:3–6, Eph 1:7–14), who wants us to have an abundant godly life (John 10:10), and through him be saved from the wrath to come on the Last Day when God brings judgment on evil (Acts 17:29–31, 1 Thess 1:8–10).

Or, have we settled for a comfortable slow boil until neither we nor our witness is alive?

The die has been cast, and we have a great and obtainable endeavor before us. We must continue to “go” with the Gospel and “make disciples of all nations” by immersion, and then continue to share with them all of Jesus’ teachings (Matt 28:18–20). Only through study, reaching and teaching can we bring more souls to the “knowledge of the truth” found in Jesus the Christ, our Savior, and Redeemer (1 Tim 2:1–4); so that, our neighbors will no longer be Jesus-haunted nor biblical illiterate, but informed and beneficiaries of the great redemption story of Divine love and grace found in the Gospel (Eph 2:1–10; Acts 2:38).

Make Your Choice

We have a choice to make. Will we be the frog being slow-cooked to death, saying to ourselves, “it’s not that bad…, it’s not that bad..” until we are toast; or, will we see that we can do something about the culture around us – we can take the gospel to our culture and transform it. Choose today.

Endnotes

  1. Robert A. Peterson, “Education in Colonial America.”
  2. Ben Witherington, III, What Have They Done With Jesus? (New York, NY: HarperSanFrancisco, 2006), 2. Emphasis added.

Genesis on Nations and Ethnicities

Genesis is the wellspring of all biblical thought and serves as the foundation for any well-rounded biblical worldview. Genesis reports the rise of nations and ethnicities is the result of God’s judgment on human rebellion. Is it myth or history?

Genesis as Theological Literature

First, Genesis is written in historical prose. It recounts in succession fashion early human stories, their consequences, and God’s responses. Genesis has a literary genre (historical prose), and it is theological because God is the central figure of the book.

Moreover, it is important to understand God also has inspired the form of his word. God selected the genre (i.e., form) as well as the words to be the vehicles of his word and message. Knowing this and following the scripture’s lead will help us to read the Bible closer to how God intended to experience its transforming and soul-searching power (Romans 12:1-2; Hebrews 4:12-13). 

Following basic genre guidelines will help us to identify what to expect when reading the book to, therefore, understand God’s intent; discouraging a subjective, privatized, understanding of God’s word. As Paul writes, “For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope” (English Standard Version).[1]

God has spoken variously: “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son…” (Hebrews 1:1-2). This “many ways” phrase (polytropōs) indicates diversity. Our job as readers is to recognize this literary diversity and read scripture accordingly.

There are challenges to reading this ancient historical narrative. One challenge is its age because it is “older than most books we read… [and] the Bible’s antiquity provides a challenge to our understanding.”[2] We are separated by some two-and-a-half thousand years before we were born. Also, narratives often “make their points indirectly,” so we must read much larger portions of the book to improve our grasp of the book.[3] For example, how many Bible reading plans have died at the genealogies? Why? It is not part of our modern story reading expectations, which means such reports, lists, or ancient story forms are often lost on us. 

Genesis as Theological History

Second, Genesis tells us a tremendous amount about God and about the human story. But is all of it historical? Did it happen? These are serious questions asked in our secular and skeptical world. Unfortunately, even Bible scholars are counted among the skeptics.

The 2017 faith-based documentary, Is Genesis History?, argued that the historical narrative of Genesis 1–11 happened.[4] Sadly, Bible professors of Wheaton College reacted negatively to the film’s showing on their campus, a majority of whom are reportedly theistic evolutionists who believe that God used evolutionary processes to produce all the variety of organic life today.[5] This presumption calls into question the historicity of the Adam and Eve story and leads to shattering confidence in the historicity of the rest of the stories relegating them to mere theological myth.

There are clues in Genesis that it is theological history. For example, Genesis uses the phrase “these are the generations” or “this is the history” (toledoth) eleven times to mark historical events, genealogies, or literary movements (2:4; 5:1; 6:9; 10:1; 11:10, 27; 25:12, 19; 36:1, 9; 37:2). Except for Genesis 2:4, ten references include a personal name to mark narrative’s events, much like in later times when events are timestamped to the year of a historical person’s reign (Jeremiah 1:1–2; Daniel 1:1; Luke 3:1–3). I believe this literary pattern asks the readers to have a historical expectation.

Unfortunately, a school of skeptical and naturalistic archaeologists (i.e., the supernatural does not exist) has been very successful in pushing their agenda that Genesis is unreliable history. To be clear, archaeology is not my field of training, but I have been reading about these issues for some time.

There are a few important counterpoints to consider: (a) the ancient world is vastly lost to us moderns due to site plundering, destructive wars and occupation, and natural erosion or burial; (b) many early discoveries were not properly cataloged, obtained, lack translation, lack proper chain of custody; (c) there are many areas that have not been excavated due to politics or lack of funding; and yet (d) what is available to us has provided two valuable interpretation tools: the contemporary setting and context to set the biblical narratives against.[6]

The field of archaeology, nevertheless, provides limited and revisable interpretations of locations, texts, and artifacts, which often illuminate the realism and narratives we read. Genesis is consistent with what we know of the ancient world.

Finally, Genesis affirms the possibility of miracles. The argument is simple: “if God exists, then miracles are possible.”[7] One of the main problems with reading the Bible is found in the first sentence of Genesis: “In the beginning God…” If the reader keeps the door open to the existence of God, then the miraculous events throughout the book that seem improbable (creation from nothing, a global flood, confusion of languages) are quite possible or probable. The naturalist, on the other hand, keeps the door tightly shut against such possibilities.[8] Yet, Genesis presumes the existence of a God.

The Rise of Nations and Ethnicities

Third, Paul summarizes dozens of passages about God’s hand in the human story:

And he made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place… (Acts 17:28)

Every “nation” (ethnos) of humanity is derived from “one” (heis) person. 

The nations go back to one historical human figure: Adam through Noah (Genesis 10:1). This biblical truth, tied to the historical creation of humankind (Adam and Eve) made in the image of God, is the foundation for understanding the unity, value, and indivisibility of the human race. There is no basis found for teaching prejudice toward others based on the color of one’s skin (there is no curse of Ham, Genesis 9:25). Instead, we are all descendants of the same person.

The rise of nations and ethnicities begins with the literary toledoth key in Genesis 10:1. The “criteria of division” used are genealogical, regional, and political divines of various relevant nations which interacted with Israel. A key point is, that “ancient peoples were more concerned with distinctions based on nationality, linguistics and ethnicity.”[9] By listing the personal names of the patriarchs (Noah, Shem, Ham, Japheth), the names of their descendants as the names of political nations, and noting their linguistic differences (10:5, 20, 31), we are to understand a big picture development of early human history. All of these nations and languages are known to this day.

“The Nations of Genesis 10,” Nelson’s Map Collection[10]

The snapshots of the family of Noah in Genesis 10 prepare us to understand the “Tower of Babel” story in Genesis 11:1–9. To this point, Genesis connects the human story from one act of uncontrolled rebellion and sinful pride to another. Babel, the ancient Mesopotamian city founded by Nimrod (10:6–10), was the epicenter of a human endeavor to build a community around a tower to the heavens (11:1–5). Today, it is well documented that in ancient Mesopotamia such pagan temples existed. These are known as ziggurats, three-to-seven-tiered mountain-shaped tower structures. 

The Ziggurat of Ur (Source: Encyclopedia Britannica)

Babylon, the later name of Babel, means “gate of god” and was known for its ziggurat in the center of the court of the temple of the pagan deity Marduk.[11] As Arnold and Beyer point out, “with a single international language and advanced building technology, humanity was unified in rebellion.”[12] In a dramatic ironic twist, God made the “gate of god” the source of their confusion and dispersed humanity into the nations and ethnicities previously mentioned in Genesis 10 (11:6–9). These nations would eventually have historical interactions with the nation of Israel.

Conclusion

Genesis recounts the historical rise of nations and ethnicities. First, there are good reasons to believe that Genesis was intended to be read historically and that the events it reports did happen even if reported in stereotyped ways. Second, reading Genesis reveals our presuppositions about miracles, evolution, and archaeological certainty. If God exists, the epic events recorded in Genesis are possible. Finally, the rise of nations and ethnicities emerged as a consequence of human rebellion; thus, amid the confusion of languages, arose ancient nations and ethnicities from which we all descend.

Endnotes

  1. Unless otherwise noted all Bible quotations are from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016).
  2. Tremper Longman, III, Making Sense of the Old Testament: Three Crucial Questions (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2006), 19–20.
  3. William W. Klein, Craig L. Blomberg, and Robert L. Hubbard, Jr., Introduction to Biblical Interpretation, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2017), 424.
  4. Is Genesis History? (Compass Cinema, 2017).
  5. Brandon Showalter, “Young Earth Creationist, Wheaton College Students Speak at 1-Y Anniv. Release of ‘Is Genesis History?’
  6. See, Edwin M. Yamauchi, “The Greek Words in Daniel in the Light of Greek Influence in the Near East,” in New Perspectives on the Old Testament, ed. J. Barton Payne (Waco, TX: Word, 1970), H. Darrell Lance, The Old Testament and the Archaeologist, Guides to Biblical Scholarship: Old Testament, ed. Gene M. Tucker (Philadelphia, PA: Fortress, 1981); Josh McDowell and Sean McDowell, Evidence that Demands a Verdict: Life-Changing Truth for a Skeptical World (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 2017).
  7. Norman L. Geisler and Ronald M. Brooks, When Skeptics Ask: A Handbook on Christian Evidences, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2013), 71.
  8. Even some so-called supernaturalists, like John Clayton, have trouble with the miraculous components of these early Genesis stories cf. Does God Exist? 49.3 (2022).
  9. John H. Walton and Victor H. Matthews, IVP Bible Background Commentary: Genesis-Deuteronomy (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1997), 31.
  10. “The Nations of Genesis 10,” Nelson’s Map Collection, Logos electronic ed. (Nashville, TN: Nelson, 1997).
  11. “Babylon,” Archaeological Encyclopedia of the Holy Land, electronic ed., eds. Avraham Negev and Shimon Gibson (New York: Prentice-Hall, 1990).
  12. Bill T. Arnold and Bruan E. Beyer, Encountering the Old Testament: A Christian Survey (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Academic, 1999), 86.

Spiritual Growth: The Ezra Principle (Ezra 7:10)

In pursuit of my own spiritual growth (such as it is) as a man of faith, it took me a long time to figure out where my journey was supposed to find not just the goal, but the starting point and the road map for the pilgrimage. Spiritual growth is not the result of knowing where our faith calls us to, but from the arduous journey to get there.

My journey has been massively blessed. I have had mentors, mothers, fathers – at times, even grandparent – figures. They have all given me something for my journey (perhaps, sometime, I’ll write about that), but I was only walking with them on their journey. Still, I would not be where I am, spiritually, without them.

I tried education. I figured “if I could be smarter” then I could discover all of the secrets that others are keeping to themselves behind the walls of academia – the proverbial mountain top. I found the tools and methods instead to help me navigate “the strange and yet immanent” world of Scriptures. They helped me raise questions and look at God’s word from various new angles that have indeed helped me in my journey to God. Despite its benefits of making me feel closer to the text, however, it was not the “end all” solution to my spiritual needs.

My personal life experiences, training, and those mentors in my life, all pointed me back to one thing: my journey to God only makes sense when I invest in a lifestyle of discipleship that has a consequential impact on my life. This required me to take seriously the words of the Psalmists.

I needed my desire for wisdom to mirror the Psalmist’s outcry to the Lord:

Open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of your law. (Psalm 119:18)[1]

In this great Psalm, David recounts the wonders of the Law of God and exalts its beauty, richness, guidance, and its loftiness as it is grounded in God’s righteousness. It begins with the words,

Blessed are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the Lord! (Psalm 119:1)

One of the empowering aspects of this Psalm is not actually found in what is written, but in the very process by which we see the Psalmist’s love for living out the Word of God, the Law of the Lord. The entire Psalm flows with a powerful example of losing oneself in the world of God’s Law.

I am not at all surprised that Psalm 119 found a communal niche at the Feast of Pentecost, as Nancy deClaissé-Walford recounts:

It is recited at the Feast of Pentecost, the spring festival observed fifty days after Passover, which celebrates the giving of the torah to Moses at Sinai during the wilderness wanderings.[2]

Nancy deClaissé-Walford in The Book of Psalms (2014)

Psalm 119 called my attention to the only true path to spiritual growth: the transformative power of the world of the scriptures. Knowing God through the scriptures, however, must lead toward discipleship, toward obedience.

The Ezra Principle

The “Ezra Principle” sounds catchy and new doesn’t it. I guarantee you it is not. I have not discovered anything hidden in plain sight. In fact, the “principle” is not just one thing, but a commitment to five values of discipleship that Ezra pursued himself.

In the fifth century B.C. (c. 458 B.C.), Ezra is commissioned by the Persian King Artaxerxes I (465–424 B.C.) in his return to Jerusalem (7:1–28). It is a time of fresh opportunity to “get things right” following the seventy years of captivity in the Babylonian due to the corruptive influence of pagan idolatry.[3] In this context, Ezra had begun a process of preparation for the task before him:

Ezra had set his heart to study the Law of the LORD, and to do it and to teach his statutes and rules in Israel. (Ezra 7:10)

The grammarian in me is interested in the verbal phrases of Ezra’s commitment: (1) “set his heart,” (2) “to study the Law,” (3) “to do it,” and (4) “to teach… in Israel.” That’s powerful. You may find other ways to divide this passage, but we will separate “study” and its object, “the Law of the Lord,” into two values themselves.

This is one of those passages that made clear to me the connection between knowing God’s word and being an authentic follower of God: the connection between personal commitment to know and to do God’s word.

Knowledge and Discipleship

This observation shifted my thinking away from just being absorbed in the Word of God. Spiritual growth must embrace knowledge but that is not the entire picture. James warns us that a people of knowledge alone is useless if not insulting because knowledge (i.e., faith) is to demonstrate itself by good works (1:22-27).[4]

James weaves together the two themes of favoritism and faith in order to illustrate just how practical saving faith must be. He illustrates this by examining the relationship between the poor and the rich in the church:

If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, "Go in peace, be warmed and filled," without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? (Jas 2:15–16)

What good is knowing that we are all saved in Christ, so goes the argument, if we do not care for each other in this life? How does God’s communal redemption of all impact our daily interactions? James argues that knowledge (faith) should be lived out in the community of the body of Christ in consequential ways.

For that matter, think about the community where the church meets. What good are we doing if we are strong on truth, but our community has never heard or seen us live out what the gospel is all about? The good we do should move people that thank God:

In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. (Matt 5:16)

In other words, spiritual knowledge and discipleship are inseparable.

To return to our point, knowing is only the beginning, the end is discipleship. The process from point A to point B is our journey of applying the narrative of Scripture (how God redeems humanity through Jesus Christ) to our lives so that we may be transformed by it (Rom 12:1-2). This makes the Word of God the essential guiding force behind all of our actions.

This brings us to the “main event” of this discussion: something I call the “Ezra Principle.”

(1) We Must Set Our Hearts

is one of the clearest descriptions of a targeted mindset in the OT. If the heart is not “into it” the body and life will not follow. Paul, speaking of the Macedonian’s benevolent efforts despite their deep poverty, describes the basis of their commitment: “they gave themselves first to the Lord, and then by the will of God to us” (2 Cor 8:5). Great advancements always stem from great commitments.

In the study and application of God’s Word, the commitment which begins at our spiritual core – the heart – will continue to be the driving force throughout our life of service to God (Deut 6:5, Lev 19:18).

(2) We Must Spend Time in Study.

Near the end of the apostle Paul’s life, he requested that Timothy come to be with him and bring his cloak, his books, and the parchments (2 Tim 4:13).  There are many speculations about the nature of these last two items, but at the very least the books and parchments would include copies of his letters to other churches. Paul would spend the last days of his life with those volumes he penned through inspiration to those in need of strength and faith.

The point we draw from here is that Paul was a studying man. In fact, he would encourage Timothy to be well equipped in the word of God and aptly able to “divide” the Scripture clearly and carefully (2 Tim 2:15). Ezra likewise spent renewed focus on studying the Law as he found himself and Israel back in the Land of their faith. Ezra knew, as we ought to today, that in order to rebuild our lives it must be based upon God’s word.

(3) We Must Select Only God’s Word as the Object of our Study.

There are many philosophical writings and even religious “scriptures” in the world. They often have maxims, sayings, or verses with which we would agree and commend. When building a biblical worldview as for the foundation of our spiritual growth, however, the Bible is the only set of “Sacred Writings” which are able to make a person wise to obtain salvation (2 Tim 3:14-15).

One may argue that this is an arrogant statement; however, despite the fact that such “writings” may provide insight into our lives, they pale in comparison with the never surpassed guidance given in the divine books of the Bible.

When one analyzes the Bible from the vantage point of predictive prophecy, historical accuracy, scientific foreknowledge, and literary harmony of this great anthology of 66 books in contrast to such other works, the Bible stands alone.

(4) We Must Steadfastly Practice God’s Word.

It is only by the conviction that the words inscribed on the paper we read are not mere words of human beings, but are instead the very words that God himself would breathe out (1 Thess 2:13; 2 Tim 3:16–17). Jesus teaches quite clearly that our lives are to reflect this type of respect, for in our prayers we are to express the sentiment, “your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matt 6:10). The Lord declares: “to obey is better than sacrifice” (1 Sam 15:22)

(5) We Must Share both our Learning and Experiences.

In many ways, teaching is not only the sharing of facts and principles. In various instances, anecdotal interactions with God’s word can be very revealing and helpful in understanding and teaching God’s word. For example, consider all those who continue to leave the denominational world for the practice of pure New Testament Christianity.

The process of filtering out unbiblical accretions while adding to their learning and practicing the biblical faith can be a very helpful experience to teach others going through the same process. The bottom line is that God’s word was never designed to be a mental exercise to the exclusion of action and sharing; indeed, we must make “disciples” (Matt 28:19-20).

Steven Lawson, in his own words, calls attention to the advice of Walter Kaiser:

When a man preaches, he should never remove his finger from the Scriptures, Kaiser affirmed. If he is gesturing with his right hand, he should keep his left hand’s finger on the text. If he reverses hands for gesturing, then he should also reverse hands for holding his spot in the text. He should always be pointing to the Scriptures.[5]

S. J. Lawson, “The Pattern of Biblical Preaching,” Bibliotheca Sacra 158 (2001)

The advice is striking for those that proclaim the Word of God, but it is an excellent reminder to those would-be disciples interested in taking their discipleship to the next level, namely, to be teachers.

Studying is Complicated

This may seem like an aside, but it is not. I promise. We need to be very careful how we use scripture. Sometimes there are narratives regarding God’s people which seem contrary to the high moral calling which is expected of God’s leaders or people. Historical narratives need to be read with caution, as they often make their points indirectly (with no commentary). They are not always telling us something God wants us to imitate, but what God’s people have done.[6] It teaches me to be careful when seeking to “do” and “teach” God’s word.

I have often wrestled with some of the deeds of Ezra as recorded in the sacred record, particularly the covenant he seems to have initiated among the returning exiled Jews to “put away” all their foreign wives and children (cf. Ezra 10). Was this divorce en-masse commissioned by God? If one takes the view that whatever is written is positive teaching, as an authoritative command, then the text seemingly gives justification to divorce and remarriage on the count of practicing a different faith. This seems counter to the teaching of Jesus who affirms that there is only one justifiable cause for divorce and remarriage: adultery (Matt 19:1–9).

Yet, if one takes the view that each action must be taken into consideration on its own merits, then it is possible that Ezra was convicted by the significant teaching against inter-marriage with foreigners due to their influence on their spiritual corruption (Exod 34:12–16; Deut 7:1–6; Josh 23:19–23) that he overstepped its application and persuaded the men of Israel to do something not commanded of those who were already “married with children.” This would align with the fact that there is no explicit commentary nor “word from the Lord” to demand these families to be severed.

Providing an answer to this riddle is beyond the purpose of this essay. My point is in our commitment to setting the heart, studying the word, and living out the word in our individual lives, the weight of teaching is likewise an important discipline that should be taken with the heavy responsibility that comes with it.

The Lord’s brother James wrote:

Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. For we all stumble in many ways. And if anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able also to bridle his whole body. (James 3:1–2)

Humility must always accompany study and teaching (Rom 2:1–11).

Final Thoughts

I am forever grateful for those who took the time to encourage me, prod me, and guide me to appreciate the special place Bible study is in the spiritual life and growth of God’s people. I would like to give a quick hat tip to them at the close of this essay.

Donald W. Hinds (1922–2008) taught me and encouraged me to read daily and widely, to be challenged by what I read, and to meditate carefully on it. His son David Hinds taught me the importance of finding the right book and the right teacher (author), in that some have so prepared themselves that if I should listen to other voices beyond the Bible, I should find such authors. I am thankful to Wayne Jackson (1961–2017), a true preacher’s preacher, who probably shaped my passion for the study of the Scriptures more so than anyone else in my early formative years through his writings in biblical studies (The Christian Courier), biblical apologetics (Apologetics Press, Inc.), and while a member of the church where he richly and profoundly proclaimed the scriptures.

Others have guided me along the way as well. Earl D. Edwards was one of my instructors in college, an elder in the church while I attended college, and a personal mentor during my early academic development. In him, I saw how the power of God’s word can so shape a man’s life with dignity, scholarship, and humility.

I wish I could say more about others, but I’ll save that for another time. These are but a few personal encounters with those who have lived out and assisted me to see that the “Ezra Principle” is not a “cute” title, but essential for the spiritual formation that comes from following God and his word. I pray that you take its challenge.

Endnotes

  1. Unless cited otherwise, all Scripture quotations are from the English Standard Version of The Holy Bible (Wheaton, Ill: Crossway, 2016).
  2. Nancy deClaissé-Walford, “Book Five of the Psalter: Psalms 107–150,” in The Book of Psalms, NICOT, eds. E. J. Young, R. K. Harrison, and Robert L. Hubbard Jr. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2014), 870.
  3. M. J. Boda, “Ezra,” Dictionary of the Old Testament: Historical Books (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2005), 278.
  4. Craig L. Blomberg and Mariam J. Kamell, James, ZECNT, ed. Clinton E. Arnold (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2008), 101.
  5. Steven J. Lawson, “The Pattern of Biblical Preaching: An Expository Study of Ezra 7:10 and Nehemiah 8:1–18,” BSac 158 (2001): 451.
  6. I am reminded of an “authorized” campus flyer I came across advertising a community college course on “The Bible as Literature” at the City College of San Francisco. It had a picture of the Bible with a sticker label on it that read:

    —-
    WARNING: This is a work of fiction. Do not interpret literally.

    CONTENT ADVISORY: Contains verses descriptive of or advocating suicide, incest, bestiality, sadomasochism, rape, murder, morbid violence, use of drugs or alcohol, homosexuality, criminal activity, human rights violations, and crimes against humanity.

    EXPOSURE WARNING: Exposure to contents for extended periods or during formative years in children has been known to cause delusions, hallucinations, decreased cognitive and objective reasoning abilities, and in extreme cases, pathological disorders, hatred, bigotry, and violence including, but not limited to torture, murder, and genocide.
    —-

    Are there stories in Scripture that record horrific events? Yes. Are they documented to promote such behavior? No. They are recorded to document the fallen nature of the world we live in.