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4/5/23
THE SUBTLETY OF NARRATIVE: ISRAEL THE NEW SODOM AND GOMORRAH
In the closing lines of “The Maniac,” the second chapter of his famous book Orthodoxy, G. K. Chesterton shows his mastery of subtly: “The one created thing which we cannot look at is the one thing in light of which we look at everything. . . . That transcendentalism by which all men live has primarily much the position of the sun in the sky. We are conscious of it as a kind of splendid confusion; it is something both shining and shapeless, at once a blaze and a blur. But the circle of the moon is as clear and unmistakable, as recurrent and inevitable, as the circle of Euclid on a blackboard. For the moon is utterly reasonable; and the moon is the mother of lunatics and has given to them all her name.”
Although it might be difficult to tell from the quote itself, Chesterton is commending Christianity over against the supposedly rationalistic views of his day. The Christian faith is ablaze, lighting our path, and yet, it is shapeless, defying the clean lines that would define its every edge. In contrast, the views against which Chesterton argues are like the moon. They are well defined, clean, sharply edged, and yet, they have no substance of their own. Despite their apparent reasonableness, it is they that suffer from lunacy, the namesake of the moon.
Chesterton could have easily spelled these points out in didactic form –Christianity is somewhat amorphous, but it is true. Rationalism and the worldviews like it are clean, but false. But these two sentences do not pack the same sort of wallop that Chesterton’s wonderfully crafted metaphor delivers. Such is the power of subtly, a power that the Bible frequently employs.
Consider, for example, the infamous story of the Levite’s concubine in Judges 19. The horror of the story can tend to shroud the subtle clues the author uses to indicate his reason for including such a grotesque story within the narrative of Judges.
In the story a wandering Levite leaves Jerusalem for lodging with his native kin, the Benjamites of Gibeah (Judg 19:12–13). Then, the narrator recounts the scene for which the story is known: “While they were celebrating, behold, the men of the city, certain worthless men, surrounded the house, pushing one another at the door; and they spoke to the owner of the house, the old man, saying, ‘Bring out the man who entered your house that we may have relations with him’” (Judg 19:22 [NASB]). It is the recounting of these men’s vile request in which the author’s subtly resides. Other than the different ways of marking the direct object (the accusative marker in Genesis and the pronominal suffix in Judges), this request directly echoes that of the men of Sodom and Gomorrah from Genesis 19 who would make a similar request of Lot. “‘Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us that we may have relations with them’” (Gen 19:5b [NASB]).
This tiny little echo suggests one thing: The men of Israel—the chosen people of God, the supposed light to the nations—had become Sodom and Gomorrah. If caught, the author’s subtly here sinks into the heart of the reader, making him realize how wicked Israelite’s hearts had become. Could the narrator have simply come out and said this? Of course. But just like Chesterton’s potent metaphor, it is the subtly of the echo that burns the idea into the bones of the reader. He does not merely know they are sinful. He feels it. And it is the author’s subtly that makes it so.
Jarrett Ford
2/8/23
THE UNFINISHED STORY
In the famous funeral oration of Pericles, Thucydides captures the stirring prose of the eulogy and uses it to highlight the greatness of Athens. Thucydides portrays Athens as the “teacher of all Hellas.” All the Greeks should acknowledge the glory of Athens and imitate her virtuous spirit and just governance.
Likewise, Luke documents several sermons of Peter and Paul, employing these speeches to reinforce specific Christological themes and highlight the goodness of Christ’s church (ekklēsia). For example, Luke includes Peter’s sermon in Solomon’s Portico (Acts 3:11-26) in part to explain how Jesus and his followers represent the continuation of Israel's history.
Luke accomplishes his goal in two ways. First, he reminds his readers that the story of Israel ended on a cliffhanger. In Acts 3:25, Peter refers to his audience as “sons (huioi) of the prophets and the covenant.” This double title first situates the audience within Israel’s history. By referring to his listeners as “huioi of the prophets,” he reminds them of the lofty promises made by the prophets in Israel's past: prophets like Moses (Deut 18:15-19), Samuel (2 Sam 7:7-12), Isaiah (Isaiah 40-66), and Ezekiel (Ezek 28:24-30). Peter also identifies the crowd as “huioi of the covenant,” specifically the Abrahamic covenant (Gen 12:1-3). This prophetic restoration and this covenant blessing belong to the huioi. They are sons and heirs of the promises that God made through his prophets and his covenant. Because their faithful God had not yet kept all of these promises, this dual designation also reminds his hearers that God had not yet written the final chapter of Israel’s history. God had more in store for his people.
Second, in Acts 3:26 Luke argues that Christ continues the story that started with Abraham, and he does this in two ways. First, Peter concludes his sermon by saying that God raised up a pais, or servant, whom God sent to his huioi. Earlier in the sermon, Peter pleads with the people to repent and believe in Christ so that the season of “refreshing” and the “restoration of all things” may come (Acts 3:19-21). These descriptions already echo the type of wholistic renewal found in Isaiah 40-66. However, by calling Christ the “pais of God,” he associates Christ and his mission with the “servant of Yahweh” found in Isaiah 52:13-53:3. Luke will make this claim explicit in Acts 8:30-35, when Philip teaches the Ethiopian eunuch that Isaiah 53 refers to the good news about Jesus. Second, because God made a covenant with Abraham to bless his descendants, Peter explains that God sent this pais to “bless” the people. For Peter, then, Christ represents the means by which God brings into effect his prophetic pronouncements.
Luke begins Acts with this sermon for an important reason: to tie Christ and his mission to the history of Israel. Although Acts records how the gospel spread to all the nations, Luke believes that Christ and Christianity do not simply replace ancient Israel. Instead, Christ and his church continue and consummate the story of God’s mission in the world.
Mitchell Holley
12/21/22
A NOMINATIVE OR GENITIVE PRINCE OF PEACE?
Christmastide is almost here. And whether through familiar Christmas carols, Christmas cards, or Charlie Brown, many of us will once again hear the familiar story of shepherds “abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.” And thanks to the cultural influence of the KJV, most of us probably know this Christmas story in good ol’ Elizabethan English. And from Longfellow to U2, we all long from the promise given the shepherds by the angels: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men (KJV).” But if you read this verse in other modern translations you may notice a slight difference. For example, the NASB reads: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased.” Why the difference?
In short, there is what scholars call a textual variant here – meaning that various manuscripts we have differ to various degrees. And in this instance, the difference is just one letter (a Greek sigma) at the end of a noun (eukokia/eukokias) typically translated as “good-will.” (And this is where those of us lacking in grammar knowledge must dust of our old English textbooks). The KJV renders the noun eukokia in the nominative case and reads “good-will” as the subject. The NASB and other modern translations relying on older manuscripts render the noun eukokias in the genitive case denoting “good-will” as possessive in nature.
So what does this all mean? In the end, both translations are good and legitimate translations based on grammar and context. Scholars can and do make a case for both. The KJV translators relied on the best manuscripts they had at the time. The translators of the NASB generally believe that the older manuscripts we now have are probably closer to the original text. And while there is a slight difference in meaning, the overall message remains the same. In the end, the underlying message remains the same: Christ has come to bring peace.
10/5/22
PASTOR, ENCOURAGE EACH MEMBER TO CONTRIBUTE
When one thinks of Eph. 4:7-16 attention is usually drawn to discerning Paul’s use of Ps. 68:18. But there is a particular theme beyond this issue that has its grounding in the subtly of Paul’s vocabulary and literary structure.
Ephesians 4:7-16 teaches that Christ gives gifts to the church (vv. 7, 8, 11) with the ultimate goal of growth and maturity (4:15-16). Whatever one makes of the allusive citation of Psalm 68, it is clear that the gifts come from Christ (4:8-10). The purpose of these gifts is identified with three prepositional phrases – “for [pros] the equipping of the saints for [eis] the work of service to [eis] the building up of the body of Christ” (4:12). It seems best to interpret the second and third (eis) prepositional phrases as subordinate to the first (pros). It is the third prepositional phrase that Paul expands in the rest of the passage. In short, he marks the church’s spiritual maturity by its ability to discern false teaching (4:14) as well as work together in love and harmony (4:15-16).
But who contributes to this spiritual maturity of the body of Christ? Since Paul focuses on Christ’s gift of leaders in verse 11, we may think it is those specially gifted individuals who bear the responsibility of the church’s spiritual growth. While it cannot be denied that leaders play a crucial role and should be understood as catalysts in ecclesial maturation, when we look at the structure of this passage, Paul indicates that each member bears this responsibility as well.
Looking back at the beginning in verse 7, we notice the Greek phrase heni hekastō (each one). While the word heni (one) echoes the previous sevenfold use of “one” in 4:4-6, its attachment to hekastō (each) places emphasis on the individual. Further, Paul’s use of charis (grace) in verse 7, while typically associated with salvation (cf. 2:5, 8) is a referent here for ministry grace as in 3:2, 7, 8. Thus, Paul’s point is that each individual has received from Christ a ministry gift.
That Paul wants to highlight the contribution of each individual to the ultimate goal of spiritual maturity is confirmed by the repetition of “each individual part” (henos hekastou) in verse 16. This inclusio frames the passage, setting his citation of Ps. 68:18 along with its application to leaders in verse 11 in perspective. Paul shows how the church is unified in the diverse use of gifts: as leaders employ their gifts, they are catalysts for the use of gifts by each individual bringing about the spiritual growth and maturity of the body of Christ.
Among the many important ideas in Eph. 4:7-16, pastors would do well to draw attention to both the purpose of gifted leaders as well as Paul’s teaching that every member contributes to the unity and growth of the body of Christ.
Garrett Craig
8/31/22
ENTICER ON MY SIDE
The prophet’s explosion of passion in Jeremiah 20:7–18 is difficult to summarize. The impulse to domesticate and summarize this text is a temptation which preachers should avoid. The conflicted feelings which careen in these twelve verses like an out-of-control hydroplaning car is the point of the passage. This passage ranges from angst over Jeremiah’s being enticed and trapped by God, to confidence that God was on his side “like a powerful champion,” to cursing his own existence.
Jeremiah opens the poem by slinging an accusation at God. God has “enticed” or “seduced” him (the verb pth). Like a violent or forceful man, God has “overcome” him and has “prevailed” (tukal). The seriousness of Jeremiah’s feeling is underscored by the fact that Jeremiah employs the same language of his enemies in verse 10. They too are hoping he will be enticed / seduced (pth), so that they can “prevail against” him (tukal).
Despite the fact that Jeremiah seems to have two sets of enemies, he in fact has only one. Jeremiah feels as though God is treating him as an enemy, and he tells him so. But he is still deeply committed to Yahweh’s message (20:9, 11–13), and is confident that Yahweh is ultimately committed to him. Jeremiah’s real enemies want vengeance on him (neqamah, 20:10), but Jeremiah is convinced that Yahweh will take his vengeance on them (neqamah, 20:12), and they will not prevail (yukalu, 20:11). Jeremiah has faced the shame of “taunting and derision” (20:8) for speaking Yahweh’s message. But because Yahweh is on Jeremiah’s side, shame will someday transfer from Jeremiah to them (20:11).
Just when there appears to be a resolution that makes sense to us, Jeremiah switches again to despair. “Cursed be the day when I was born” (20:14). His life has been, and would continue to be, “spent in shame” (20:18). Despite what he just stated—that God would come through for him and shame his enemies—Jeremiah returns to the sentiments of the first verses of the poem. He is the one who is shamed; his life is a nightmare. And that’s how it would continue.
Some scholars think the diverse elements point to this poem being a conglomerate of independent poems. But such a view betrays a shallow perspective on both poetic composition and human emotion. Modern-day exegetes are usually more comfortable with logically flowing didactic epistolary texts than with emotionally raw Hebrew poetry. But preachers should not shy away from poems like Jeremiah’s, nor should they flatten them or be too quick to resolve their tensions. If we are honest, the tensions of Hebrew poetry often reflect the tensions of our own hearts, and the hearts of the people we minister to. In the alien form of this Hebrew poetry that God has given us, we find the very familiar experience of our lives.
Another benefit of embracing such strange poems is that they help us to recognize similar sentiments echoed throughout both Old and New Testaments. A few such passages come to mind. First is the book of Job, which contains a very similar angst and echoes the same birth-curse wish. In the New Testament, we read Paul’s expressions in 2 Corinthians 4:7–18 and 2 Corinthians 1:8–11. Perhaps the greatest example of this tension is Jesus’ angst-laden prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane. He trusted God, yet was “deeply grieved, to the point of death” (Matt 26:38).
Wrestling with despair and shame, while still somehow trusting that God is for us and will someday vindicate us, and at the same time feeling trapped in the path God has laid out for us—this is the pathos of Jeremiah, the experience of countless believers, and an feeling shared by Jesus himself (Heb 5:7–8).
Paul Lamicela
8/17/22
CONTENTMENT IN ALL CIRCUMSTANCES
Paul deeply rejoices in the Lord (echarēn) that the Philippian churches show care and concern for him and do not shy away from expressing this in practical ways. However, lest the believers at Philippi misunderstand his expression, implying that he may be either needy or an opportunist, Paul quickly clarifies that his exultation does not arise from his need or want. Instead, it is for encouraging the Philippians’ and to appreciate their generous spirit.
How is Paul’s joy independent of any external wants or circumstances? Using an explanatory gar in Greek in verse 11, Paul tells the Philippians the reason he did not refer to his material want or lack is because he is content on the inside (4:11b). Contentment is the key that combats unnecessary complaining and unhealthy comparison with what others possess.
Verses 11–13 further offer the readers the answers to two fundamental questions: Where Paul’s contentment comes from and how does he acquire it?
To provide an answer to the question of the manner of his contentment, Paul writes that he has “learned” (emathon) to be content “in whatever circumstances.” The Greek term emathon refers to someone who comes to a realization, with an implication of taking place through continual experience or practice, not something that is either taught or instructed directly. That is, Paul “learns” (manthanō) to be content by going through the blend of pleasant and unpleasant experiences of life: He gets “along with humble means,” lives “in prosperity,” at times “being filled” and “having abundance” yet other times “going hungry” and suffering need.” Interestingly, that is the same verb that the author of Hebrews also employed in describing Jesus who “learned” (emathen) obedience through his sufferings (Heb. 5:8). Thus, from this perspective, Paul’s contentment does not come from a magic moment after his conversion. Instead, it is learned by going through different life experiences.
After explaining how he obtains contentment, Paul now shares with Philippian believers the origin of his contentment in verse 13. Paul confidently expresses, “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” “All things” or “everything” (panta) provides the measure or extent of what he has talked about previously in verses 11–12. Paul is “able to do all things” (panta ischuō), meaning that he can face all conditions or circumstances of life and remain content because of the one who strengthens or enables him (en tō endynamounti me). The Greek preposition en with dative object implies the idea of the source, as NASB helpfully translates “through.” So, verse 13 describes Jesus Christ as the origin or source of Paul’s strength that enables him to be content in every circumstance.
Whereas the world today renders contentment dependent upon favorable circumstances or abundant possession of materials, Paul teaches believers that true contentment comes from Jesus Christ and is learned by going through different life experiences trusting that the Lord is in control.
Keneth Pervaiz
7/20/22
KNOWING WHAT WE KNOW
“Just as you do not know the path of the wind, and how bones are formed in the womb of the pregnant woman, so you do not the activity of God who makes everything.”
How do you know what you know? This is a common question in the philosophical field of epistemology. We sometimes assume that philosophy and epistemology are abstract endeavors, only for those who have lost touch with reality. Epistemology in Ecclesiastes, however, deals with theological and existential concerns. That is, what we know—or cannot know—relates to God and the lives we live.
In Ecclesiastes 11:5, Qohelet begins a comparison indicated by ka’ăšer (just as). Qohelet points out that “you do not know” is the central aspect of the comparison. Scholars debate whether to translate this verse as having one big illustration or two smaller ones. If it is one illustration, it would read something like “Just as you do not know the way the life-breath enters into the bones in the womb of a pregnant woman, so...” If there are two illustrations, the text would read, “Just as you do not know the path of the wind, and how bones are formed in the womb of the pregnant woman, so…” While the difference does not significantly alter the verse’s meaning, the majority of Hebrew manuscripts supports the latter option of two illustrations. Thus, this verse likely reads as the NASB has it.
Qohelet picks up on two things in nature that we do not know in order to tell us that we likewise do not know the activity of God. You do not know the way of the wind, and you do not know how the bones are formed in the womb of a pregnant woman. Just as you do not know these things, you do not know the work of God. Modern readers like ourselves might question the second illustration, objecting that we do, in fact, know how the bones of a child are formed in the mother’s womb. However, Qohelet’s readers would have agreed that this is unknown to humans (cf. Eccl. 3:21; Ps. 139:13–16). Furthermore, despite our overly confident and overly scientific epistemology, there remains much about the phenomenon of new life that we do not see or fully understand.
This particular comparison is a simile. While similes are linguistically different from metaphors, similes still prompt the reader to conceptually process one thing in terms of another. Therefore, the text deliberately intends for us to understand our knowledge of God in terms of our knowledge of wind and the formation of bones in the womb a pregnant woman. The thrust of the comparison is theological, not meteorological or biological. Just as you do not know (’ēynkā yôdē‘a) even these earthly, natural things, so you do not know (lō’ tēda‘) the work of God who does all things. Humans have epistemic limitations. In other words, there are things about the world and God we cannot know, a point which contributes to larger argument of 11:1–6 as well as an overall theme in Ecclesiastes. Similar to 11:5, Jesus made a similar metaphor about wind and new life pointing to the work of God in John 3:3–12.
Morgan Johnson
6/22/22
THE SANCTIFYING REGENERATION OF SINNERS
1 Corinthians 6 is one of the most punitive chapters Paul penned. After rebuking the Corinthian Christians for daring (tolmaō) to take their legal disputes before unbelievers (6:1–8), the Apostle addresses the gravity of their sinful conduct. His reminder that the “unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God” is followed by a vice list consisting of ten items. Does Paul here imply that entrance into the kingdom is achieved by works of righteousness? And what exactly does Paul teach about homosexuality in these verses?
Most English translations of the vice list contain only nine items. Though word-for-word equivalence is not the necessary measure of a good translation, the NASB helpfully distinguishes between the fourth and fifth items on the list in 6:9: the malakoi (“effeminate”) and the arsenokoitai (“homosexual”). Combining the two masculine plural nouns and translating them as “any kind of homosexual” (CSB), “men who practice homosexuality” (ESV), or “men who have sex with men” (NIV) is not incorrect. Nevertheless, distinguishing the two words helps clarify what kind of homosexual conduct Paul is addressing here—something that has become the subject of debate in recent years.
Some have suggested that Paul’s condemnation of “homosexual” conduct is in fact only a condemnation of pederasty (a man having sex with a young boy). While it is true that the Greek arsenokoitai can refer to pederasts, that cannot be what Paul means here precisely because of his inclusion of the previous item, malakoi.
The word malakoi refers to a “soft” man and can describe an effeminate man. However, Paul’s use of the word in this list, and especially together with arsenokoitai is less vague and almost certainly refers to the passive partner in the homosexual act. In other words, Paul here condemns both the passive and the active partner involved in homosexual behavior, which rules out the possibility that Paul had pederasty in mind.
Paul’s goal here, however, is not to rant a list of various sinful behaviors displayed by the Corinthian church. Nor is Paul presenting the Corinthians with the enticing possibility of being washed, sanctified, and justified as the reward for right living. Quite the opposite: the washing, sanctification, and justification have alreadytaken place for them! In fact, though Paul speaks candidly against sinful behaviors in 6:9–10, he is nothing but encouraging when speaking explicitly about the Corinthians themselves (6:11). The vice list he presents serves only as a reminder of what the Corinthian Christians were—kai tauta tines ēte (“and such were some of you,” 6:11).
The reminder of who the Corinthians are now has a dual purpose, however. Although it is a hopeful reminder, it also functions as a stern warning (alluding back to his comments in 6:9). In other words, though inheriting the kingdom is not the reward of righteous living, neither is it the case that ungodly conduct is inconsequential for those who call themselves Christians. On the contrary, the gift of the Spirit makes living in a way that is characterized by the sins presented in 6:9–10 an impossibility. Paul of course is not presenting a list of unforgivable sins. He is only reminding the Corinthians that the Spirit kills the persistent, habitual sin that often marks unbelievers.
First Corinthians 6:11 thus is both a cautionary reminder to those who wrongly ignore life-changing nature of faith in the gospel and a glorious testimony of the transformative nature of regeneration.
Andres Vera
6/6/22
SPECIES OF DESIRE
While a brown/grizzly bear and black bear are from the same family (Ursidae), even amateur hikers often know an important difference between these two species. In an encounter with a brown/grizzly bear, it is a good strategy for a hiker to remove their pack and play dead. But, in an encounter with a black bear, playing dead is even more dangerous than fighting back. When facing a threat, knowing its species may be a life or death matter.
In the Old Testament, the Ten Commandments are recorded twice (Exod 20:6–21; Deut 5:6–21). When the two instances of the Tenth Commandment are compared, there are subtle differences between them. Exodus 20:17 states, “You shall not covet (taḥmōd) your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet (taḥmōd) your neighbor’s wife, or his male slave, or his female slave, or his ox, or his donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.” Deuteronomy 5:21 states, “You shall not covet (taḥmōd) your neighbor’s wife, nor desire (tetʾawweh) your neighbor’s house, his field, his male slave or his female slave, his ox, his donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.”
To focus on one of these variations, in Exodus 20:17 the first and second verbs are “covet.” In Deuteronomy 5:21, however, the first verb is “covet,” but the second verb is “desire.” While “covet” and “desire” are similar terms, the reader is left wondering whether there is any exegetical significance to this difference. As can be seen in the citations above, two different Hebrew verbs are beneath these English terms. Exodus 20:17 uses the verb ḥmd twice, but Deuteronomy 5:21 uses ḥmd once and ʾwh once.
While these verbs are similar, they have different nuances. In general, ḥmd refers to the desire for material objects which are inherently attractive such as sources of food (e.g., Gen 2:9; 3:6) or precious metals (e.g., Deut 7:25; Josh 7:21). Usually, it refers to desire which is prompted by the attractiveness of an object. On the other hand, ʾwh is used to refer to a wide range of desires, such as hunger and thirst (e.g., Num 11:4, 34; Deut 12:20) or the desire of one person for another (e.g., Ps 45:12; Isa 26:9). Usually, it refers to a strong want which arises from within a person.
In light of the two versions of the Tenth Commandment (Exod 20:17; Deut 5:21), God forbids two species of desire: that which is prompted by the attractiveness of an object and that which arises from within, having no apparent external trigger. When either of these types of desire is set on what rightfully belongs to another person, the Tenth Commandment is violated.
To explore one of the insights generated by this lexical work, when a person sees things which are inherently attractive, like a precious gemstone or a member of the opposite sex, they may be drawn to that thing and begin to desire, hunger for, or even obsess over it. In the movie The Silence of the Lambs, Hannibal Lecter asks the FBI agent Clarice Starling, “And how do we begin to covet, Clarice? Do we seek out things to covet?” Lecter answers his own question: “We begin by coveting what we see every day.” This is the type of desire signified by the term ḥmd. Christians who wish to honor the God who spoke the Ten Commandments will recognize that the way they perceive and desire the world around them is an area to grow in holiness by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Coye Still
5/25/22
A LIGHT FOR THE NATIONS
In Acts 13, Paul preaches at a synagogue in Pisidian Antioch. While the reception was encouraging, when Paul and Barnabas returned the next week, the Jews began to oppose them publicly (Acts 13:42-45). In response to their rejection, Paul states that he and Barnabas were going to the Gentiles (Acts 13:46). In support (gar), he says that God has commanded them (entelō) the words of Isaiah 49:6: 'I HAVE PLACED YOU AS A LIGHT FOR THE GENTILES, THAT YOU MAY BRING SALVATION TO THE END OF THE EARTH' (Acts 13:47, NASB).
Isaiah 49:1-6, however, is clearly about God's Servant (see esp. 49:3). The Servant's task was to not only to bring Jacob back (49:4, 6) but also to be God's salvation to the ends of the earth (49:6). In general, the New Testament writers identified the Servant with Jesus (e.g. 1 Peter 2:24-25, Mat 27:57, 60). Why then did Paul speak of this section as a command to the apostles (note that Paul's quotation, "you" [se] is singular, not plural)? Who does this command belong to, the Servant or the apostles?
Paul's answer would seem to be both. Later, in Acts 26:23, Paul describes the work of Jesus as "proclaiming light" to both Jews and Gentiles, echoing the language of Isaiah 49:6. Yet, as one commissioned by the risen Christ, Paul closely identified his life and purpose with the mission of Jesus (cf. Acts 22:21; 26:18; Phil 1:21; Gal 2:20). Proclaiming Jesus was the next phase of Jesus's work in bringing salvation to the ends of the earth (cf. Luke 24:47; Acts 1:8). Therefore, while Jesus as God's Servant is the primary referent of this text, inasmuch as the apostles continued Jesus's work of "proclaiming light" (Acts 26:23), they adopted his mandate to be a "light for the Gentiles."
Can the church today, like Paul, claim identification with the command to be a light to the nations? If we follow the New Testament authors in understanding the church as Christ's body (Col 1:24; Eph 4:15-16; 5:23), then yes, in this sense Christians can identify with the Servant's task to bring salvation to the ends of the earth through the proclamation of the gospel. In Paul's quotation of Isaiah 49:6, one sees his complete embrace of Christ's mission. May the same be true of every Christian placed by God to bear witness to his name!
Jim Dernell
5/11/22
WHAT SHOULD WE DO WITH REVELATION?
Revelation overflows with exhortations, heavenly visions, apocalyptic imagery, and eschatological predictions. It’s hard to know what to do with such a complex book. Thankfully, John tells us what we should do: “Blessed (makarios) is he who reads and those who hear the words of the prophecy (tēs prophēteias), and heed (tērountes) the things which are written in it; for the time is near” (Revelation 1:3, NASB95).
We know that John is talking about the book of Revelation itself when he refers to “the prophecy.” Where context warrants, the article (tēs) can serve a “pointing” function and can be translated as “this” instead of “the.” Additionally, the phrase “words of the prophecy” creates a frame around the body of Revelation, occurring here in the prologue and repeatedly in the epilogue (22:7, 10, 18–19). So, whatever this verse says to do with “the prophecy,” we should do with Revelation.
What, then, does John want us to do? Revelation 1:3 includes two categories of action, receiving (reading/hearing) and responding (heeding). The word translated “heed” is from tēreō. The primary nuance of the word here seems to be “to persist in obedience” to Revelation’s commands (cf. BDAG def. 3 of tēreō). This aligns with other uses of the word in the book (cf. 2:26; 3:3, 8, 10; 12:17; 14:12). However, tēreō was a multivalent word that was also used for holding onto or preserving something (cf. BDAG def. 2 of tēreō). Revelation 1:3, then, may also suggest that we should treasure the prophecies, visions, and encouragements and preserve them from corruption (cf. 22:18–19).
Why does John want us to hear and heed Revelation? The first reason is clear: “the time is near.” We misinterpret Revelation if we think that it presents a far-flung future irrelevant to our present lives. On the contrary, its details call us to endurance (13:10; 14:12). It shows us not only “the things which will take place after these things” but also “the things which are” now (1:19). Revelation not only points forward to our final deliverance, but also reveals the world as it truly is, a battleground between God and the forces of Satan, in which individuals, institutions, and governments take sides. Christians today need to remember Revelation’s perspective, as it is easy both to forget the coming day of judgment (cf. 2 Peter 3:1–10) and to wrongly “love the world” and “the things in the world” (1 John 2:15).
The second reason John wants us to hear and heed Revelation is more subtle. Notice that this verse takes the form of a beatitude. Like its better-known cousins in Matthew 5, this beatitude ascribes well-being or blessedness. It is an invitation to the way of life characterized by hearing and heeding God’s word, and it promises that those who do so will be “blessed”—not recipients of cool stuff or additional favors from God, but those who live the truly “good life” as defined by God. Those who hear and heed Revelation, then, will live life as God intends it to be lived.
What should we do with Revelation? John says we should read it, hear it, heed it, treasure it, and live in light of it as we look forward to God’s final and complete victory, when we shall see his face (Revelation 22:4).
Kenneth Trax
4/27/22
WISDOM VERSUS ROMANS 1
Placing biblical texts into their historical contexts is often essential for understanding them. Doing so becomes especially imperative when considering epistolary literature. Peter, Paul, and the other New Testament authors clearly penned much of their writings to address specific situations. Thus, to get at what they mean, we must often become familiar with the broader thought-world in which they lived and breathed.
Paul’s tirade against the judgmental man at the beginning of Romans 2 serves as a perfect example: “Therefore you have no excuse, you foolish person, everyone of you who passes judgment; for in that matter in which you judge someone else, you condemn yourself; for you who judge practice the same things” (Rom 2:1 [NASB]). In the flow of Paul’s thought, this “judgmental man” hops on the scene out of nowhere. It is hard to tell what Paul is doing here. However, if Paul’s rhetoric is set against the backdrop of Wisdom of Solomon, a first-century Jewish text, a certain amount of the Apostle’s unnoticed skill bubbles up to the surface.
Toward the middle of The Wisdom of Solomon, personified Wisdom issues a polemic against Gentile idolatry much like that of Paul’s. “But wretched are those whose hopes are in dead things, who call ‘gods’ the work of human hands. Gold and silver, products made with skill, and images of animals, or a useless stone, the work of an ancient hand” (Wis 13:10). The sage’s abbreviated language might be difficult to parse out, but his basic point is clear. The Gentiles place their hope in man-made idols, gold and silver made into the image of created things by their very own hands. Sounds like Paul in Romans 1, doesn’t it?
When Wisdom turns toward his fellow Jew, however, his resemblances with Paul begin to fade. “For neither has the artful inventiveness of human beings led us astray, nor the fruitless toil of painters, a figure stained with various colors, whose appearance arouses yearning in fools so that they long for the unbreathing form of a dead image” (Wis 15:1–5 [NET]). Wisdom is claiming that unlike these moronic idolaters, Wisdom and his Jewish brethren could never be duped into worshipping a dead image. They worship the living God.
Paul’s rhetoric against Gentile idolatry in chapter 1 agrees with those who viewed the Gentiles like Wisdom did. But Paul does this so that he might shock them with what he says next – lampooning their self-righteousness. “Yes! Yes Paul! The Gentiles are idolaters. You are absolutely right,” this Jew might say only to be blasted as Paul calls him out for his hypocrisy. “Who are you Wisdom to say that you have not been duped? By judging these Gentiles, do you not judge yourself? You are no better off than they.” With his guard down, this Jewish opponent runs into Paul’s accusation here with considerably more force. Could Paul’s argument have been understood without this comparison? Of course. But putting Paul in conversation with Wisdom gives his polemic that much more bite, and so it often is when Paul is placed against his other contemporaries.
Jarrett Ford
4/13/22
REMEMBER THE TOMBS OF DESIRE
While coded language is at home in the military and treasure hunting stories, most Christians are not looking for it in the Bible. Although much of the Bible is written in clear and direct language, there are portions which initially seem cryptic. In some of these cases, however, investigating the original languages reveals a straightforward meaning that was present all along.
Paul, for example, might seem to speak in code when he tells the Corinthians congregations, “Now these things happened as examples for us, so that we would not crave evil things as they indeed craved them” (1 Cor 10:6). While Paul clearly warns against evil desire, he vaguely references a past event and uses the uncommon term “crave.” In the immediate context (1 Cor 10:1–13), Paul repeatedly references the history of Israel, which offers a clue that he is probably doing the same thing in 1 Corinthians 10:6, but his words are devoid of direct references to specific persons, places, or things. So, what is Paul talking about?
In fact, Paul is not being mysterious at all. When the Greek behind the English translation is examined, it becomes clear that Paul is pointing to the specific historical events recorded in Numbers 11:4–35, which narrates how a group of people travelling with Israel “had greedy cravings” and complained about the food that God had provided for them (Num 11:4). Shortly, their grumbling spread throughout the camp, and the Israelites started to yearn for the food of Egypt (Num 11:4–6). While wanting a good meal is innocuous, the desires of the Israelites were out of control, which was shown by how they started to long for Egypt. In effect, they were rejecting the Exodus, a dramatic display of ingratitude. While God responded by providing quail for them to eat (Num 11:31–32), he judged them with a plague while they ate it (Num 11:33). In light of what had taken place, “that place was named Kibroth-hattaavah, because there they buried the people who had been greedy” (Num 11:34). “Kibroth-hattaavah” (qibrôt htʾwh) could be translated as “The Tombs of Desire,” a testimony that the desires of the offenders had led to their deaths.
Paul connects his exhortation to Numbers 11:4–34 by using language which appears in the rendering of Numbers 11:4–34 by the Septuagint (LXX), the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible. In particular, the LXX uses two terms, epithumētēs (Num 11:34) and epithumeō (Num 11:4), which Paul also uses in 1 Corinthians 10:6: “Now these things happened as examples for us, so that we would not crave (epithumētas) evil things as they indeed craved them” (epithumēsan).
Paul, therefore, is not being cryptic. He is referencing the tragic events of Numbers 11:4–34 in 1 Corinthians 10:6 with the use of shared vocabulary. By paying attention to the original languages, the point of 1 Corinthians 10:6 can be clearly seen: remember the Tombs of Desire. As George Santayana famously said, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Paul made a similar point to the Corinthian congregations by claiming that the people of God today can learn from the mistakes of the people of God yesterday.
Coye Still
3/30/22
A WISDOM PARADOX
Wisdom is a gift from God, and yet we are called to seek wisdom and be wise. Both of these realities are true: we must strive for wisdom (Proverbs 2:3-5), yet God alone gives it (Proverbs 2:6). Who then is responsible for us getting wisdom? Is it God or us? The answer to this question is both. Wisdom is a paradox, and like most paradoxes, it is difficult to understand the exact relationship between its different dimensions. Thankfully, Moses provides us insight into this critical concept in Psalm 90.
In Psalm 90:12, Moses describes that the pathway to wisdom is, in one sense, passive. Notice the verb “teach” in verse 12. The verbal stem here is a hiphʿil imperative of the verb yādaʿ “to know.” The hiphʿil communicates the concept of “cause.” God must cause us to know (i.e., teach us) that our days in this life have a number; they do not go on forever. Wisdom is, on the one hand, a gift from God (see Proverbs 2:6).
Although wisdom is, in one sense, passive, it is also active. Hence the paradox. Moses asks that God would teach us to number our days. The verbal stem of this infinitive “to number” is qal, which communicates the active voice, not the passive. Thus, we are responsible for numbering our days. The paradox of wisdom is both active and passive. We obtain wisdom as we contemplate our mortality, and this contemplation is a gift from God.
We live in a world that hides from death, does not talk about it, and keeps it far from sight. This world does not embrace the paradox of wisdom. Although hiding from death may appear prudent to our world, this hiding proceeds from a heart of foolishness. God teaches us a better way. The wise know that their days in this life have a number, but as Moses reminded us earlier in this Psalm, we march toward our death knowing that God is our eternal dwelling place (Psalm 90:1). Wisdom is found in seeking the Lord who alone grants us the knowledge to know him and his ways truly.
Anthony Ferguson
3/16/22
NOW AS THEN
Second Peter 2 opens with a fascinating parallel: “But false prophets also appeared among the people, just as there will also be false teachers among you.” With these words, Peter extends the parallels between past and present that he began in 1:16–21. In the earlier passage, Peter connected the true prophets of Old Testament with the apostles of the New Testament. Now, Peter observes that there is a parallel on the dark side as well: false prophets of old, false teachers now.
But this extended parallel actually invokes an entire scenario. It is not just that there are opposing “good” and “bad” characters in the past that both have parallels in the present. Rather, the conflict between them, the characteristics of both, the messages they promoted, and the ends they faced are also brought forward to the present.
The word pseudoprophētēs (“false prophet”) occurs several times in the New Testament, but only in one book of the Old Testament, in the Septuagint translation of Jeremiah, where it occurs nine times. Jeremiah contains by far the largest chunk of material dealing with true and false prophets in the Old Testament (especially chapters 23–29). In these chapters, Jeremiah faces off against the people of Judah and against a false prophet named Hananiah. The people and this false prophet refuse to believe that Jeremiah is a true prophet. They despise his continual calls for repentance and obedience, and they find his predictions of a long exile distasteful. They even ask, in much the same way as the scoffers of 2 Peter, “Where is the word of the LORD? Let it come now!” (Jer 17:15; 2 Pet 3:4).
Peter’s false teachers are explicitly likened to someone who in Jewish literature was often seen as the prototypical false prophet: Balaam (2:15–16). Not only did Balaam have a strange connection to the spiritual world, but he also led Israel to judgment through greed and immorality. Peter also uses the language of Proverbs to highlight the foolishness, sensuality, and impending destruction of these false teachers (e.g. explicit citation in 2:22); and he warns his readers not to be ensnared, much as Solomon did to his “son” (2:14).
The apostles, just like the true prophets of old (and like Solomon in Proverbs), have a message which sounds less pleasant but which leads to life. They teach a life of disciplined growth in virtue (1:1–15). Just as Jeremiah did, they exhort their hearers to patiently wait for the Lord’s salvation, though their “exile” may be long (Jer 25:1–14, 29:4–14; 2 Pet 3:3–13).
Peter’s understanding of redemptive history led him to expect correspondences between eras in the history of Israel and the present dawn of the Messianic age. He called his readers to understand their lives and the world around them in light of biblical history. Peter colored his picture of the present using Old Testament crayons. The point of 2 Peter 2:1 and the long sequence of invectives that follow is to help readers see their lives in those colors.
Paul Lamicela
3/2/22
THE LOGIC OF SACRIFICE
Those who follow The Daily Office Lectionary found in the Book of Common Prayer rejoice when they discover that the lectionary only assigns parts of Leviticus to read during the year. And many other Christians today would sympathize with these Anglican brothers and sisters. Although this scornful attitude towards the third book in the Pentateuch represents something of a dramatization, the book has does have a bit of a reputation. It includes an overwhelming amount of details about food laws, leprosy inspections, instructions about bodily discharges, and all the minutia related to ritual sacrifices. None of these particulars seem important to Christians.
Several biblical authors, however, might object to the disinterested opinion above (cf. Matt 27:15-26; Rom 3:24-26; Gal 3-4), especially the author of Hebrews. In Hebrews 9:11-13 and 23-28, for example, the author uses the Day of Atonement ritual in Leviticus 16 to describe the work of Christ. According to this ritual, the priest and the people required purification. Even the holy place and the altar needed purification because God himself dwelled in the tabernacle and interacted with his people there (cf. Exod 25:8). In similar fashion, Christ entered the heavenly sanctuary, the divine dwelling place, and “through his blood (haima)” (9:12; 10:19) he purified his people (9:14), mediated a new covenant (9:15), and atoned for sin (9:26). Now Christians may come before God with confidence (10:19-22; cf. 6:20).
One might wonder how the haima of Christ accomplishes so much. Why does “blood” possess the power to purify and atone for sin? While the author of Hebrews alludes to the logic behind Christ's sacrifice (cf. Heb 9:22), Moses provides two explicit reasons why blood is effective in Leviticus 17:11. First, God accepts “blood” in lieu of human life because he says that “blood,” or dam in Hebrew, represents “life.” And “as life,” dam can atone for life. Second, God gave dam so that the life of one sacrifice upon the altar might provide atonement for the lives of his people. “Blood” has the ability to atone for sin because God allows it to symbolize life.
This logic supports the entire sacrificial system in the Old Testament, and numerous biblical authors will advance and refine this theme of an atoning sacrifice. The author of Hebrews represents just one important example. Hopefully, Leviticus will not seem so tedious as Christians begin to see how it echoes throughout the New Testament.
Mitchell Holley
2/16/22
FOREIGNERS WELCOMED BY GOD
When the rule of YHWH breaks into the world, things look different. These differences are material and dramatically affect the way that people relate to one another and also to YHWH himself. The inbreaking rule of YHWH provides the non-Israelite who is reading Isaiah 56 with a radically different mode of relating to his God.
In the Old Testament, there are several terms used to designate non-Israelites. The one with the most generous connotations would be gēr, commonly translated as “sojourner.” Sojourners were cared for by the Israelite nation and even had protections that prevented others from taking advantage of them. However, the term used in Isaiah 56:3 typically does not have such positive connotations. The word translated as “foreigner” is ben-hannēḵār (literally “son of that which is foreign”) and nēḵār is frequently used in negative contexts involving the worship of, and devotion to, foreign gods (Gen 35:2; Deut 31:15; Josh 24:20, 23; Judg 10:16; 1 Sam 7:3; 2 Chron 14:3; 33:15; Ps 81:9; Jer 5:19; 8:19; Dan 11:39; Mal 2:11). Moreover, according to the Law, ben-hannēḵār were prevented from eating the Passover (Ex 12:43) and could not offer animals as sacrifices (Lev 22:25). This group stands in stark contrast with the sojourners (gēr) who, in Exodus 12:48 and Numbers 9:14, were allowed to participate in the Passover on the condition that their males were circumcised. With respect to the nation of Israel and even to their participation in her cultic life, ben-hannēḵār were outsiders.
What a great relief, then, when the one who is called a ben-hannēḵār reads that YHWH will not cut him off. In light of the new Isaiah 55 world, such a foreigner might have wondered what his place would be, whether or not he would be counted among the people of God and enjoy the rest promised to God’s people. YHWH allays those fears, assuring the foreigner who has joined himself to YHWH that he will never be cut off from Israel and her attendant blessings. The rhetorical effect of calling such a one a ben-hannēḵār heightens the message of Isaiah—when the salvation of YHWH comes, it is not ethnic and racial heritage which will save, but covenant faithfulness. Those who join themselves to YHWH, to love and serve him (Isa 56:6, see also Deut 10:12 and 11:13), reveal themselves to be the faithful remnant of Israel.
Stephen Xia
2/2/22
DID DAVID PREDICT THE FATE OF JUDAS?
Soon after Jesus's ascension, his disciples assembled to choose a successor to Judas (Acts 1:12-26). Addressing the group, Peter stood and explained that Judas was a necessary fulfillment of Scripture and that the Holy Spirit had spoken beforehand (prolegō) through David concerning (peri) him (1:16).
Peter supports this claim with two quotations from the Psalms: Psalm 69:25 (Ps 68:26 LXX) and Psalm 109:8 (Ps 108:8 LXX). In both of these psalms, David makes a plea to YHWH to deliver him from those who oppose him (e.g. Ps 69:4; 109:1-5). Also in both psalms, David lists a set of imprecations against his enemies (Ps 69:22-28; 109:6-20). Peter sees support from these imprecatory lists for Judas's fate.
Yet how was Judas's fate necessary? Did Peter believe that these texts were direct predictions? At first glance, it would seem so. Yet this seems hard to support from the texts themselves, which don't seem to be making predictions but describing a situation. Furthermore, among other minor modifications in his quotation (via word order and use of cognate forms), the original plural of Psalm 69:25 has been changed to a singular (autou instead of autōn). What is Peter's angle here? A look elsewhere in Scripture provides some clarity.
Psalm 69 is often used in the NT to refer to Jesus, especially when the opposition to Jesus and his covenant are in view (Matt 27:48; Luke 23:36; Mark 15:36; John 19:29; Rom 11:9-10). The situations of Jesus and David are similar in the sense that they are both royal, righteous sufferers. But how do these similarities take on the force of prophecy?
The NT authors seemed to understand a typological relationship between David and Jesus. This was likely informed by interpretive trajectories in the Old Testament. David's faithfulness, for example, was the measure of kings (e.g. 1 Kgs 11:4; 15:3; 2 Kgs 14:3; 16:2; 18:3; 22:2). David also came to stand for his line and future Descendant (e.g. Hos 3:3-4; Ezek 34:22-24, cf. 2 Sam 7). These scriptures fostered expectations of a "David-like" Messiah. David himself was therefore the type, or pattern, for the greater “David” to come.
Viewed this way, the prophetic character of psalms like Psalm 69 and 109 becomes more comprehensible. David was God's anointed and was opposed, yet received victory over all his enemies and a secure throne (e.g. 2 Sam 22). David also believed that this type of deliverance would be characteristic of his descendants (2 Sam 22:51). Thus, when Jesus suffered as God's anointed king and the Davidic heir, God delivered him to rule heaven and earth (Matt 28:18).
Peter seems to understand Judas as a poignant instance in a pattern of opposition to the anointed Davidic king. What happened to Judas was thus necessary in the sense that God had already established a pattern of certain doom for those who resist God's anointed (e.g. Psalm 2). It was only fitting, then, that the curses of these psalms be fulfilled in Judas—his place of rest was desolate, and his role taken by someone else. Changing the plural of Psalm 69:25 to a singular expressed this reality in a rhetorically efficient manner.
Did David predict the fate of Judas? Yes, but with nuance. David, by inspiration of the Holy Spirit, wrote his judgments confident that God would give his anointed one victory. The Holy Spirit also cataloged in Scripture a pattern of doom for all who oppose YHWH's anointed. When God's greater David came and was betrayed by Judas, in him the pattern of doom—and David's imprecations—necessarily found fulfillment.
Jim Dernell
1/19/22
WHAT EXACTLY IS IDOLATRY?
Pronouns streamline language, but they can also create confusion when their antecedent is unclear. If I told my wife, “I need my phone, wallet, and keys, which I can’t find,” as I was trying to leave the house, she would be left in the dark on what I had lost. Had I lost just my keys, or had I lost my phone and wallet too? In this example, she would probably just ask me to clarify (or assume that I had lost all three based on my track record), but that option isn’t available when reading a text like Scripture.
Colossians 3:5 presents an analogous dilemma. Paul states, “Therefore, treat the parts of your earthly body as dead to sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed, which amounts to idolatry.” While the general thrust of this statement is clear, what is the referent of “which”? Paul is saying one of two things: (1) that “sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and greed” as a group “amounts to idolatry” or (2) that “greed” specifically “amounts to idolatry.” With the English alone, the reader unable to decide between these alternatives and left to ask, what exactly is idolatry?
However, the Greek behind the English offers clarity. Behind the English word “which” is the Greek word hētis, and, most likely, its antecedent is “greed” (pleonexian) specifically. Here are a few reasons why: First, hētis is feminine, and the preceding list of terms includes a neuter noun, “passion” (pathos), which suggests the referent is the feminine noun pleonexian. Second, hētis is singular and when Paul refers back to the same list of vices in Colossians 3:6, he uses the neuter plural relative pronoun ha, which suggests that a neuter plural form would also be expected in Colossians 3:5 if the referent was the entire preceding phrase. Third, pleonexian is set off from the remainder of the vices with the conjunction καί, which suggests a break between it and the preceding items of the list. Fourth, pleonexian has the article tēn, but the preceding nouns are anarthrous. In light of these observations, the referent of hētis is most likely pleonexian specifically.
Paul, therefore, affirms that greed is idolatry in Colossians 3:5, which has significant implications for Christians today. While many Christians would immediately identify idolatry as a heinous sin, greed is often overlooked. In some cases, it is even tacitly endorsed. Paul, however, equates idolatry and greed, showing that greed must be fought with the same intensity as idolatry. While Paul likely connected greed and idolatry for several reasons, one was undoubtedly the teaching of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount, “No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth” (Matt 6:24).
Coye Still
1/5/22
SPEECH ACTS AND STOICHEIA TOU KOSMOU
Recognizing that words do not merely refer to something else can be a powerful exegetical ally. Take, for example, the sentence “That is my chair.” If someone were to ask you to explain its meaning, what would you say? You might attempt to explain it bit by bit. “That” is the English demonstrative pronoun that points to something relatively far away. “Is” is the English copula, linking a subject and a predicate. “My” is a first-person possessive pronoun connected to the word “chair.” And finally, “chair” is a four-legged stool with a back that people typically sit on. Put it all together, and voila, you have the meaning. Or, you might attempt to skim over the top, describing the form of the phrase. “That is my chair” is a declarative statement which predicates the speaker’s possession of a sitting object.
The clear silliness of these explanations indicates that meaning transcends reference. “That is my chair” does not equal the referent of “that” plus “is” plus “my” plus “chair.” The sentence simply means more than the aggregate of its parts or the description of its form. It is doing something, commanding something in this particular case. “That is my chair” is the way my older daughter exhorts her younger siblings to remove themselves from her rightful throne. It is a command clothed in declarative garb. “That is my chair” means “get out of my chair.”
Words do not merely refer. They act. To miss this point is to miss the meaning. To find it, however, can often lead to finding meaning shrouded behind questions of reference and form.
Such is the case with Galatians 4:3. There, Paul says something quite odd. “So we too, when we were children, were held in bondage under the elementary principles of the world” (Gal 4:3 [NASB]; emphasis). The phrase behind “elementary principles” is the ominous stoicheia tou kosmou. A cottage industry has formed that discusses the controversy surrounding what Paul means here. Does it refer to the Law mentioned in verse 5? Does it refer to the calendars mentioned in verse 10? What is it that the “we” (presumably including Jew and Gentile) were enslaved to?
The issue is that either way one turns, there are problems. Views that try to connect the stoicheia to Jewish things like the Law or calendars successfully account for the parallelism verse 3 shares with verses 5 and 10, but they struggle to explain why Paul would choose a label with such a Greek flavor. On the other hand, views that try to connect the stoicheia with something more Greek—like the physical elements of the world—struggle to account for the parallelism that support the calendar/law views. No amount of word studies can undue this sort of gridlock, but perhaps that is the point.
Asking “what does this phrase refer to?” gets the interpreter off on the wrong foot. Rather, he should ask “what is Paul doing with this phrase?” Doing so balances the two issues with which the referential views struggle. The phrase can keep its Greek flavor while referring to the Jewish stuff of the Law because Paul’s point is to assert that everybody was in a rough spot prior to the gospel. We—Jew and Gentile alike—were enslaved to the stuff of the world. Placing the Greek-shaped stoicheia in a Jewish shaped hole allows Paul to level the playing field.
It would be like a modern western Christian attempting to level with his Hindu brothers and sisters by saying that he worshipped idols prior to Jesus. Were they idolators in the sense that their polytheistic brothers were? No. But asking what “idol” usually refers to would be to completely miss the point, and so it is with Paul.
Again, words do not merely mean. They do. And recognizing this point helps one to untangle one of Paul’s most enigmatic statements.
Jarrett Ford