‘Word for the Week: Whole Life, Whole Bible’, from London Institute for Contemporary Christianity, is a series of fifty emails designed to look at the main milestones of the biblical story, seeking to show how whole-life discipleship is woven through Scripture as a whole, from beginning to end. Here is the fifth of the fifty emails…
Then God said, ‘Let us make human beings in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.’ So God created human beings in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them. God blessed them and said to them, ‘Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it.’
Genesis 1:26-28
What is to be the role of human beings in the story about to unfold?
It’s the sixth day, and the author of Genesis 1 makes it clear – through devoting more space to it, through repetition, through the divine ‘let us’ which first plans and then executes the plan – that something even more significant is about to happen. Now the Creator forms a creature – unlike any of the others – who bears his image…
We give thanks that we have been created with the capacity for emotion, the ability to think and communicate – like God himself – although it’s not apparent that his ‘image’ should be identified with these things. It is clear that man and woman together constitute the image of God, that humans are made for relationship with each other as well as with God. Even so, sexual differentiation extends to dolphins, chickens, and elephants as well – making it an integral part of his design for the world, but not necessarily the most significant point about being made in his image.
More notable is the connection of the image with the vocation of men and women to rule creation, as representatives of God on earth, charged with the task of ‘dominion’ over other creatures. Cultures surrounding Israel told stories of people being made as slaves of the gods, with the language of ‘image’ applied only to kings. In Genesis, however, all human beings are created in the image of God, giving men and women a status and responsibility not found in other worldviews.
And Genesis 1 continues to shape our views of humanity – and our lifestyles too – since the tasks of ‘filling’ and ‘subduing’ and ‘ruling’ have not been taken away. In the first place, of course, this refers to the building of families, the growing of crops and breeding of animals, the tending of the garden to which Adam is called. Creation requires cultivation.
But such cultivation provides the basis of the organisation of society, and includes by extension the development of culture and civilisation – building houses, designing clothes, writing poetry, playing chess. These are the ‘mundane’ ways in which we – this very day – exercise our creation mandate, as we represent God’s rule over every type of cultural activity, in relationship with others, and in a way that reflects God’s own nurturing, creative hand. May it be so.
For further reflection and action:
1. What is it that occupies the bulk of your waking hours – work, education, home, hospitality, childcare…? How is the image of God demonstrated in these things?
2. Read and reflect on Psalm 8. In what ways does its portrayal of human beings as ‘crowned with glory and honour’ shape our perceptions of ourselves and others?
3. Try to spend some time this week reflecting on the fact that the first purpose of humanity is not ‘spiritual’ (in terms of how that word is commonly understood), but the somewhat ordinary category of exercising stewardship over our earthly environment as God’s representatives. What difference might this make to your week?
4. If our fellow human beings share the mandate to ‘cultivate’ the earth, what are the implications of this for how we treat their work, art, products, etc.? And are there any areas of cultural ‘cultivation’ that are inherently suspect – advertising, cosmetics, fashion, interior design, contemporary art, weapons manufacturing?
Tuesday, 5 May 2009
Monday, 4 May 2009
Barry G. Webb on The Scrolls
Barry G. Webb, Five Festal Garments: Christian Reflections on the Song of Songs, Ruth, Lamentations, Ecclesiastes and Esther, New Studies in Biblical Theology No. 10 (Leicester: Apollos, 2000), 151pp., ISBN 0851115187.
[The following is a lightly-edited version of a review first written in November 2000 and published on London School of Theology’s website.]
Barry Webb’s work (in the ‘New Studies in Biblical Theology’ series) takes up the five generally neglected Old Testament books traditionally known as ‘the Scrolls’ – Song of Songs, Ruth, Lamentations, Ecclesiastes, and Esther.
His discussion of each book is divided into three parts: first, he looks at the book itself, allowing it to set its own agenda; second, he then reads the book against its wider Old Testament context; then third, because Webb is self-consciously offering ‘Christian reflections’ on these works (as indicated in the volume’s subtitle), he looks at how the book in question relates to the gospel as proclaimed by Jesus and the apostles in the New Testament. As such, the volume provides a concise overview of the books themselves and worked examples of looking at them from a biblical-theological perspective, offering helpful perspectives on what he sees as their themes – Song of Songs as the garment of love, Ruth as the garment of kindness, Lamentations as the garment of suffering, Ecclesiastes as the garment of vexation, and Esther as the garment of deliverance.
A few points for dialogue could be raised. With the possible exception of Ecclesiastes, all books have had considerable input from ‘feminist’ interpreters, but you wouldn’t really know it from Webb’s work. One doesn’t have to agree with all that is said in the name of feminist approaches to the Bible to appreciate some of the challenge such interpretations bring to the contemporary church. Even if one starts from the text (as well we should) rather than impose ideological agendas onto the text, we have to do justice to the significance of the singing voice of the woman in Song of Songs, to the mournful cries of the widowed ‘daughter of Zion’ in Lamentations, to the role of the central female characters in Ruth and Esther – all within a broader biblical-theological reflection on the relationship between men and women in Christ.
Also somewhat lacking is discussion of the interface between Christianity, Judaism and biblical theology (an ongoing and controversial topic in current scholarly debate on biblical theology and Christian theology more widely). This is particularly ironic, as Webb has chosen to tackle these books as the ‘Scrolls’ which are gathered together in the third part of the Hebrew canon (the ‘Writings’) and which were adopted for reading at five major Jewish festivals, but which are separated in the Christian canon (!) and apparently serve no function as a unit.
But these are simply indications that we all still have a lot more work to do. If these volumes and others like them continue to be published, we may be both optimistic and excited for the future of biblical theology.
[The following is a lightly-edited version of a review first written in November 2000 and published on London School of Theology’s website.]
Barry Webb’s work (in the ‘New Studies in Biblical Theology’ series) takes up the five generally neglected Old Testament books traditionally known as ‘the Scrolls’ – Song of Songs, Ruth, Lamentations, Ecclesiastes, and Esther.
His discussion of each book is divided into three parts: first, he looks at the book itself, allowing it to set its own agenda; second, he then reads the book against its wider Old Testament context; then third, because Webb is self-consciously offering ‘Christian reflections’ on these works (as indicated in the volume’s subtitle), he looks at how the book in question relates to the gospel as proclaimed by Jesus and the apostles in the New Testament. As such, the volume provides a concise overview of the books themselves and worked examples of looking at them from a biblical-theological perspective, offering helpful perspectives on what he sees as their themes – Song of Songs as the garment of love, Ruth as the garment of kindness, Lamentations as the garment of suffering, Ecclesiastes as the garment of vexation, and Esther as the garment of deliverance.
A few points for dialogue could be raised. With the possible exception of Ecclesiastes, all books have had considerable input from ‘feminist’ interpreters, but you wouldn’t really know it from Webb’s work. One doesn’t have to agree with all that is said in the name of feminist approaches to the Bible to appreciate some of the challenge such interpretations bring to the contemporary church. Even if one starts from the text (as well we should) rather than impose ideological agendas onto the text, we have to do justice to the significance of the singing voice of the woman in Song of Songs, to the mournful cries of the widowed ‘daughter of Zion’ in Lamentations, to the role of the central female characters in Ruth and Esther – all within a broader biblical-theological reflection on the relationship between men and women in Christ.
Also somewhat lacking is discussion of the interface between Christianity, Judaism and biblical theology (an ongoing and controversial topic in current scholarly debate on biblical theology and Christian theology more widely). This is particularly ironic, as Webb has chosen to tackle these books as the ‘Scrolls’ which are gathered together in the third part of the Hebrew canon (the ‘Writings’) and which were adopted for reading at five major Jewish festivals, but which are separated in the Christian canon (!) and apparently serve no function as a unit.
But these are simply indications that we all still have a lot more work to do. If these volumes and others like them continue to be published, we may be both optimistic and excited for the future of biblical theology.
Gordon D. Fee and Douglas Stuart on Ruth
Gordon D. Fee and Douglas Stuart, How to Read the Bible Book by Book: A Guided Tour (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2002), 81.
‘The book of Ruth tells the story of God’s faithfulness to his people in a specific case, as a Moabite woman becomes part of his story of redemption.’
‘The book of Ruth tells the story of God’s faithfulness to his people in a specific case, as a Moabite woman becomes part of his story of redemption.’
Sunday, 3 May 2009
D.A. Carson
I was a Christian of not more than a few months old in 1981 when I first heard D.A. Carson speak at my home church in Southport. I can remember the sermons to this day. I remain profoundly grateful for the times I have heard him since then, and for his many books and articles.
Justin Taylor, who blogs at ‘Between Two Worlds’ (and which I check every day) has published a brief sketch of Carson and his enormous output in teaching and writing.
Carson signs off all his books with Soli Deo gloria, ‘to God alone be the glory’.
Justin Taylor, who blogs at ‘Between Two Worlds’ (and which I check every day) has published a brief sketch of Carson and his enormous output in teaching and writing.
Carson signs off all his books with Soli Deo gloria, ‘to God alone be the glory’.
Interpretation 63, 2 (2009) on Calvin
One of the journals I pay money to subscribe to is Interpretation, published by Union Theological Seminary.
Given that 2009 is the 500th anniversary of Calvin’s birth, the latest issue explores aspects of Calvin’s work as a biblical interpreter.
The following summaries are my edited combination of the abstracts and comments from the editorial introduction.
Randall Zachman
Oracles, Visions, and Oral Tradition: Calvin on the Foundation of Scripture
Randall Zachman argues that Calvin has a deep appreciation for the importance of oral tradition, and for revelation received in oracles and visions immediately from God. For Calvin, according to Zachman, the foundation of Scripture is the oracles and visions revealed to the patriarchs, transmitted through generations by an oral tradition that faithfully preserved these oracles. Zachman goes on to argue that Calvin even authorises certain practices or doctrines as applicable to the church of his day based on such oral tradition. Scripture is a form of the Word of God, but a relatively late one, and one that does not supersede oracles and visions.
Elsie McKee
Calvin and Praying for ‘All People Who Dwell on Earth’
Elsie McKee notes that Calvin’s interpretation of 1 Timothy 2:1–2 apparently leads him to hold both a doctrine and a practice of prayer for ‘all people’ that may seem contradictory to his teaching on predestination. McKee argues, on the contrary, that Calvin is preeminently a biblical theologian who addresses the themes presented in Scripture, including both predestination and prayer. Calvin expands upon earlier patristic and medieval readings to a truly universal prayer for the world.
David C. Steinmetz
Calvin as Biblical Interpreter Among the Ancient Philosophers
David Steinmetz shows the extent to which Calvin as a student of Scripture was also steeped in classical culture and literature. He argues that in many places it is impossible truly to understand Calvin’s arguments unless one has some knowledge of the Greek and Roman authors to whom he refers. And yet, Calvin is not captive to any of the classical schools of philosophy (he maintains a distance from his favourite philosophers Plato and Seneca, for instance). For Calvin, there could be no sharp division between ‘Athens and Jerusalem’, between sacred and profane knowledge. All truth was the revelation of God’s providential hand, and the Christian need not fear seeking truth wherever it may be found. For Calvin, the only proper response to this rich intellectual heritage for a devout Christian people called to love God with their minds as well as with their hearts must always remain profound gratitude.
James Brashler
From Erasmus to Calvin: Exploring the Roots of Reformed Hermeneutics
James Brashler explores the roots of Calvin’s biblical scholarship in the first generation of the Reformation, especially in Christian humanists like Erasmus of Rotterdam. He argues that Calvin’s dependence on these earlier scholars has not been sufficiently explored or acknowledged, partly because Calvin himself is so reticent about the sources of his learning (he does not provide the footnotes in his commentaries and sermons). It is also because some of the first generation reformers – with the exception of Luther and Zwingli – have not received as much scholarly attention as has Calvin. Brashler is particularly intrigued by the resonances between Oecolampadius’ and Calvin’s respective commentaries on Isaiah.
Given that 2009 is the 500th anniversary of Calvin’s birth, the latest issue explores aspects of Calvin’s work as a biblical interpreter.
The following summaries are my edited combination of the abstracts and comments from the editorial introduction.
Randall Zachman
Oracles, Visions, and Oral Tradition: Calvin on the Foundation of Scripture
Randall Zachman argues that Calvin has a deep appreciation for the importance of oral tradition, and for revelation received in oracles and visions immediately from God. For Calvin, according to Zachman, the foundation of Scripture is the oracles and visions revealed to the patriarchs, transmitted through generations by an oral tradition that faithfully preserved these oracles. Zachman goes on to argue that Calvin even authorises certain practices or doctrines as applicable to the church of his day based on such oral tradition. Scripture is a form of the Word of God, but a relatively late one, and one that does not supersede oracles and visions.
Elsie McKee
Calvin and Praying for ‘All People Who Dwell on Earth’
Elsie McKee notes that Calvin’s interpretation of 1 Timothy 2:1–2 apparently leads him to hold both a doctrine and a practice of prayer for ‘all people’ that may seem contradictory to his teaching on predestination. McKee argues, on the contrary, that Calvin is preeminently a biblical theologian who addresses the themes presented in Scripture, including both predestination and prayer. Calvin expands upon earlier patristic and medieval readings to a truly universal prayer for the world.
David C. Steinmetz
Calvin as Biblical Interpreter Among the Ancient Philosophers
David Steinmetz shows the extent to which Calvin as a student of Scripture was also steeped in classical culture and literature. He argues that in many places it is impossible truly to understand Calvin’s arguments unless one has some knowledge of the Greek and Roman authors to whom he refers. And yet, Calvin is not captive to any of the classical schools of philosophy (he maintains a distance from his favourite philosophers Plato and Seneca, for instance). For Calvin, there could be no sharp division between ‘Athens and Jerusalem’, between sacred and profane knowledge. All truth was the revelation of God’s providential hand, and the Christian need not fear seeking truth wherever it may be found. For Calvin, the only proper response to this rich intellectual heritage for a devout Christian people called to love God with their minds as well as with their hearts must always remain profound gratitude.
James Brashler
From Erasmus to Calvin: Exploring the Roots of Reformed Hermeneutics
James Brashler explores the roots of Calvin’s biblical scholarship in the first generation of the Reformation, especially in Christian humanists like Erasmus of Rotterdam. He argues that Calvin’s dependence on these earlier scholars has not been sufficiently explored or acknowledged, partly because Calvin himself is so reticent about the sources of his learning (he does not provide the footnotes in his commentaries and sermons). It is also because some of the first generation reformers – with the exception of Luther and Zwingli – have not received as much scholarly attention as has Calvin. Brashler is particularly intrigued by the resonances between Oecolampadius’ and Calvin’s respective commentaries on Isaiah.
Friday, 1 May 2009
Roger Ryan on the Book of Judges
Roger Ryan, Judges, Readings: A New Biblical Commentary (Sheffield: Sheffield Phoenix, 2007), x + 226pp., ISBN 1906055246.
I attended a day conference yesterday at which Roger Ryan presented a paper on Judges arguing against the consensus that the judge-deliverers are negative role models who contribute to Israel’s moral and spiritual decline. Instead, he insists, their role is militaristic, and they are successful when they deliver Israel from enemies; they are God’s gifts to Israel through whom he brings peace to the land.
He argues this thesis across the narrative as a whole in this commentary in which he invites us to ‘the dangerous world of biblical Israel inhabited by heroes, heroines, hissable villains, a chorus of naughty Israelites, countless silent victims and Yahweh the God of Israel who does whatever it takes to win his people back from the gods of Canaan to covenant loyalty’ (xi).
The commentary includes a lengthy ‘Afterword’ (169-221) in which Ryan engages more closely with scholarly literature on Judges. He sees the stories as ‘literature of hope’ written for Israelite refugees in Mesopotamia and Egypt in the sixth century bc, and highlights three aims of the storyteller: (1) reasons to be ashamed of their moral and religious behaviour; (2) cause for hope because of Yahweh’s repeated responses to the peoples’ cries for help; (3) a warning not to assimilate or fall away from the loyalty to the covenant (172).
I attended a day conference yesterday at which Roger Ryan presented a paper on Judges arguing against the consensus that the judge-deliverers are negative role models who contribute to Israel’s moral and spiritual decline. Instead, he insists, their role is militaristic, and they are successful when they deliver Israel from enemies; they are God’s gifts to Israel through whom he brings peace to the land.
He argues this thesis across the narrative as a whole in this commentary in which he invites us to ‘the dangerous world of biblical Israel inhabited by heroes, heroines, hissable villains, a chorus of naughty Israelites, countless silent victims and Yahweh the God of Israel who does whatever it takes to win his people back from the gods of Canaan to covenant loyalty’ (xi).
The commentary includes a lengthy ‘Afterword’ (169-221) in which Ryan engages more closely with scholarly literature on Judges. He sees the stories as ‘literature of hope’ written for Israelite refugees in Mesopotamia and Egypt in the sixth century bc, and highlights three aims of the storyteller: (1) reasons to be ashamed of their moral and religious behaviour; (2) cause for hope because of Yahweh’s repeated responses to the peoples’ cries for help; (3) a warning not to assimilate or fall away from the loyalty to the covenant (172).
Paul Miller on Moral Formation and the Book of Judges
Paul Miller, ‘Moral Formation and the Book of Judges’, Evangelical Quarterly 75:2 (2003), 99-115.
Paul Miller notes that although Judges is not prescriptively ethical in presenting explicit rules for moral conduct, it does deal with ‘the community of faith as the context for moral formation’ (99).
He thus aligns his concerns with those who have sought to move beyond a ‘quandary ethics’, and who see moral living as ‘the cultivation of practices and virtues that can only be formed within the context of a coherent life story’ (102). Scripture informs the church’s ethical task not merely as an historical artefact, but as a living and authoritative story received in the context of the community of faith.
As Scripture, Judges has ‘a community-forming and community-regulating function’, which ‘continues to shape those who read it with the eyes of faith’ (102).
He describes the main ethical thrust of Judges as follows:
‘The very capacity to make moral judgments itself arises from the desire to obey God. The community of faith is the context in which this capacity of obedience is learned and practiced. Conversely, when the covenant relationship between God and God’s people is neglected, the faculty of moral judgment atrophies. It not only becomes impossible to do right, it becomes impossible to know what is right. Judgment is not a function of autonomous practical reason but of a living relationship with God’ (103).
Following Lillian R. Klein (The Triumph of Irony in the Book of Judges [Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1988]), Miller maintains that irony is the main device propelling the narrative of Judges… showing the horror of life without God.
He draws attention to the three resonances of the book of Judges with our contemporary situation in the west
(1) ‘morality in our time has become largely a private matter’ (111);
(2) ‘the dominating influence of alien ideologies that claim hegemony over the authority of Scripture’ (112, he instances Naziism, the cult of self, certain streams of feminist theology, and enlightenment rationalism as examples);
(3) ‘our tendency to make impersonal, institutional responses to deeply personal moral and spiritual issues’ (113).
In the face of these…
‘Community is the context in which attentiveness to God is taught, learned, nurtured and internalized. The Christian community’s role, now as much as ever, is to strengthen the commitments which reinforce openness to the activity of God in history. That role is carried out by teaching and celebrating the narratives of God’s dealings with God’s people and by being counterculturally attentive to the practices of worship, prayer, fellowship and charity which, while appearing to be socially trivial, are the foundation of Christian character and virtue’ (114).
Paul Miller notes that although Judges is not prescriptively ethical in presenting explicit rules for moral conduct, it does deal with ‘the community of faith as the context for moral formation’ (99).
He thus aligns his concerns with those who have sought to move beyond a ‘quandary ethics’, and who see moral living as ‘the cultivation of practices and virtues that can only be formed within the context of a coherent life story’ (102). Scripture informs the church’s ethical task not merely as an historical artefact, but as a living and authoritative story received in the context of the community of faith.
As Scripture, Judges has ‘a community-forming and community-regulating function’, which ‘continues to shape those who read it with the eyes of faith’ (102).
He describes the main ethical thrust of Judges as follows:
‘The very capacity to make moral judgments itself arises from the desire to obey God. The community of faith is the context in which this capacity of obedience is learned and practiced. Conversely, when the covenant relationship between God and God’s people is neglected, the faculty of moral judgment atrophies. It not only becomes impossible to do right, it becomes impossible to know what is right. Judgment is not a function of autonomous practical reason but of a living relationship with God’ (103).
Following Lillian R. Klein (The Triumph of Irony in the Book of Judges [Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1988]), Miller maintains that irony is the main device propelling the narrative of Judges… showing the horror of life without God.
He draws attention to the three resonances of the book of Judges with our contemporary situation in the west
(1) ‘morality in our time has become largely a private matter’ (111);
(2) ‘the dominating influence of alien ideologies that claim hegemony over the authority of Scripture’ (112, he instances Naziism, the cult of self, certain streams of feminist theology, and enlightenment rationalism as examples);
(3) ‘our tendency to make impersonal, institutional responses to deeply personal moral and spiritual issues’ (113).
In the face of these…
‘Community is the context in which attentiveness to God is taught, learned, nurtured and internalized. The Christian community’s role, now as much as ever, is to strengthen the commitments which reinforce openness to the activity of God in history. That role is carried out by teaching and celebrating the narratives of God’s dealings with God’s people and by being counterculturally attentive to the practices of worship, prayer, fellowship and charity which, while appearing to be socially trivial, are the foundation of Christian character and virtue’ (114).
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