BIBLICAL Horizons, No. 18
October, 1990
Copyright 1990, Biblical Horizons
Evangelicals have in recent years become more interested in looking into their Bibles for wisdom to deal with modern problems. This is undoubtedly a welcome development, after many years of neglect.
But there are dangers and costs as well. One of these is the tendency to fall into a modern problem-solving mode of thinking. The modern world is dominated by the illusion that social problems can be solved by the application of the proper technique. Evangelicals face the danger of making the same claim for "biblical solutions." There are many problems of domestic and foreign policy that defy any "solution." The Bible undoubtedly guides us, tells us clearly what we can and cannot do, makes wise the simple. But this does not mean that there is always an obvious biblical solution, a simple biblical technique that, properly applied, yields its result.
I do not see, for example, a biblical "solution" to the well-nigh intractable problems of Palestine and South Africa. I certainly believe that we should be searching the Scriptures for wisdom concerning these issues. But no technique exists to solve these problems. The resolution of these conflicts is much less mechanical a procedure than that, and a much riskier procedure as well.
Another danger is that concentration on biblical norms can lead us to ignore the situation at hand. We may project long-term visions of what the world should be, but often fail to wrestle with the world we have been given. Thus, we tend to downplay what Nobel economist James Buchanan has called the "uniqueness of the status quo." Buchanan notes that "The choice among alternative structures, insofar as one is presented at all, is between what is and what might by. And proposal for change involves the status quo as the necessary starting point. `We start from here,’ and not from some place else." This does not mean we accept the status quo, but that we understand the limits it places upon us.
This is not merely a pragmatic argument, but has theological roots. John Frame has argued that we cannot apply the Bible correctly unless we are also paying attention to the situation. The more we know about the situation, the better able we are to apply the Bible. Scripture guides us in our interpretation of the situation; but we must interpret the situation. Moreover, the situation is a product of God’s plan. God has given us the status quo, and we need to accept it as His gift and His challenge.
This means that promoting a long-term vision of a biblical social and political order is not sufficient. It is not sufficient to say, for example, that we need to dismantle the centralized welfare state and return to family and Church ministries of mercy. That, I believe, is an appropriate long-term goal. But, by itself, it doesn’t address the problems that we face today. Among the complexities of our situation are these: for all the flaws of the welfare state, the majority of Americans evidently want it to continue; there is simply no consensus, even on the Right, for dismantling of the welfare state; at present, Churches are not equipped with the money and skills to shoulder the burden of our nation’s poor and homeless; families are disintegrating; the mobility of modern life makes family support of poor members more difficult; and so on. These social, economic, political, and technological facts must be taken seriously. If we talk about dismantling the welfare state without addressing these issues, we have not dealt responsibly with the issue at all.
Taking the situation seriously means also that we recognize the "Butterfly effect" of the apparently small obstacles that we overcome. Staying married may seem a rather uninspiring goal, but it has a greater long-term impact than any hundred Congressional bills. Weekly celebration of the Eucharist may seem completely irrelevant to real life, but it’s vastly more important than the next Presidential election. Politically, we need to welcome even the smallest victories. Without being satisfied with cosmetic changes, we must recognize the virtues of the marginal improvement. A short-term "winner take all" attitude can only exacerbate conflict.
More broadly, we no longer have a Christian consensus. We are no longer a Christian nation. Evangelicals, therefore, can, as a practical matter, no longer dictate morality to the nation as a whole. We are no longer a righteous empire. Religious pluralism is a fact of American life. Whether we think that is good, or whether we think it will last, we need to deal with it.
How are we to act in such a situation? The Bible provides models for us. Throughout the Old Testament, God’s people found themselves in a variety of social and political circumstances. Israel survived slavery, liberation, prosperity, decline, and exile. Christ’s church will do likewise. The varied experience of the biblical saints gives us much guidance in living within out culture. Thus, for example, we might compare the Israelite confederation and early monarchy to the first centuries of American history; in both cases, most leaders were believers and the basic legal and political structures were deeply influenced by biblical norms.
Which biblical era is closest to ours? This is certainly open to debate, but I believe that we are in a situation somewhat similar to that of the exiles and the first-century Christians. Political and intellectual elites are largely hostile to Christianity, and we are a minority, though happily not yet a consistently persecuted minority. On the other hand, there are also similarities between our present situation and that of the remnant of believers in the divided kingdom. We have a Christian heritage and past, just as the Jews did. We have repudiated that past, just as they did. We might therefore gain wisdom from studying the lives of Elijah, Obadiah, and Micaiah under king Ahab.
Romans 1 also provides some insight into our current situation. There, Paul describes three "deliverances." When men harden themselves against God, He delivers them over to idolatry (corruption of worship), then to degrading passions (corruption of sexuality and family), and finally to a depraved mind (corruption of society as a whole). At present, it seems that we are somewhere between the second and third "deliverance"; worship and sexuality have been corrupted, but we still have not completely descended into the total barbarism that Paul describes in verses 28-32. But we are well on our way. Unless we repent, those verses describe our future.
Senator Bill Bradley wrote a book about his basketball career entitled, "A Sense of Where You Are." Though lacking some of the more spectacular physical abilities of his peers, Bradley became an All-Star basketball player because he knew more about the game, and knew where he was on the court at every moment. To serve God faithfully, we need to develop not only a thoroughly biblical view of the world, but also to develop a sense of our place in history, and of the particular challenges before us.
BIBLICAL Horizons, No. 18
October, 1990
Copyright 1990, Biblical Horizons
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1).
The famous definition of faith with which the eleventh chapter of Hebrews opens has received a number of different interpretations. The crux of the problem is the interpretation of the words translated in the KJV as "substance" (hupostasis) and "evidence" (elegchos). The focus of this brief study is on the former, though the interpretation I offer embraces the latter as well.
Several opinions have been offered in the interpretation of hupostasis (these are admirably summarized by the late Philip Hughes, A Commentary on the Epistle to the Hebrews [Eerdmans, 1977], pp. 439-40). The word had, by the first century, become a technical term in Neo-Platonic philosophy and Hellenistic Judaism, referring to the "real reality" behind empirical appearances. Thus, on this interpretation, the writer to the Hebrews was saying that faith embraces and grasps the substantial reality beyond the appearance. An already-not yet element can then be introduced to suggest that by faith we possess by anticipation what has been promised. It is difficult, however, to see how this sense of substance could serve to define faith; the text says that "faith is the substance," not "faith lays hold of the substance." The strength of this interpretation is that hupostasis was often used in this sense.
Some, including Calvin, interpret the word etymologically as "stand under." Thus, faith is described here as the foundation upon which we stand as we strive for the realization of what has been promised. Etymological interpretations, however, are usually quite suspect.
Most modern commentators and translators opt for the interpretation "conviction" or "assurance." This understanding of hupostasis was first introduced by Luther, and is surely consistent with the Reformation understanding of faith. But the word rarely if ever has this sense elsewhere in Greek literature (though arguably it has this connotation in Heb. 3:14). Finally, hupostasis was used with reference to titles of ownership. Hence, faith would be described here as the title deed that guarantees our possession of what we hope for.
All of these interpretations are possible, and all say something true about faith. But after some wrestling with the verse, I have concluded that these attempts to pin down the language with a systematic-theological precision are misguided, and really obscure the force of the verse. The phrase, rather than being a precise theological definition of faith, is an intentionally paradoxical description of faith. The basic thrust of the verse is that faith is directed beyond visible reality, to an invisible and future reality that is certainly true. But the phrasing of the verse pulls the reader in oppositive directions: toward substantive certainty on the one hand, and toward blind groping on the other.
Both phrases of the verse bear marks of a deliberately constructed paradox. Substance, whatever its precise nuance, refers to something that is . . . well . . . substantial. Yet the writer to the Hebrews says that faith is the substance of something that is not yet. Faith is, to adopt the etymological interpretation of hupostasis, a foundation that is still to be built. The introduction of the already side of the already-not yet schema, though appropriate from a systematic perspective, improperly relieves the tension of the verse. In the context, the hoped-for things are things yet to be obtained; the emphasis is entirely on the not yet. Still, the not yet is that of which faith is the substance.
The second phrase in the verse heightens the paradox. Though often translated as "conviction" in modern translations, the KJV translation ("evidence") is more correct. But, in normal language, evidence should be apparent to the senses, if it is to be evidence of anything. To speak of evidence of unseen things is to speak paradoxically.
Calvin sensed the paradoxical character of the definition, and explained it as follows: "A demonstration makes things appear, and commonly refers to what is subject to our senses. These two things apparently contradict each other, but they agree perfectly when we are concerned with faith. The Spirit of God shows us hidden things, the knowledge of which cannot reach our senses. Eternal life is promised to us, but it is promised to the dead; we are told of the resurrection of the blessed, but meantime we are involved in corruption; we are declared to be just, and sin dwells in us; we hear that we are blessed, but meantime we are overwhelmed by untold miseries; we are promised an abundance of all good things, but we are often hungry and thirsty; God proclaims that He will come to us immediately, but seems to be deaf to our cries. What would happen to us if we did not rely on our hope, and if our minds did not emerge above the world out of the midst of darkness through the shining Word of God and by His Spirit?"
To interpret Hebrews 11:1 as a deliberately paradoxical description of faith fits well in the context. Chapter 10 ends with a discussion of perseverance under persecution. To all appearances, the life of faith was one of death and defeat; but faith looks beyond the appearances to the sure promise of God, to the invisible things that are "seen" by faith.
Another way to approach the problems raised by this verse is to ask what is hoped for, and what is unseen? What we hope for is our adoption, the redemption of our bodies (Rom. 8:24); to be raised incorruptible and enter into the eternal kingdom of glory. The unseen things are the heavenly things that the writer to the Hebrews has stressed throughout his epistle: the reality of Christ’s heavenly enthronement (Heb. 2:5-9; note use of "see" in v. 9), and the heavenly tabernacle and priestly ministry of the Greater Melchizedek (Heb. 7-10). What we hope for is conformity to Christ in His glorious body; what is unseen is the Christ for Whom we hope. Christ is the hoped-for One, and the unseen One.
Once we have made this connection, we can perhaps take one last step. If Christ is the hoped-for and unseen One, then faith is the substance and evidence of Christ. Christ is not only the object of faith, a term that separates the believer from the external object of his belief. More than that, Christ is the very content of faith. By faith, we are united to Christ, so that we become bone of his bones and flesh of his flesh. It is by such faith that the saints of old endured persecution and overcame the world.
BIBLICAL Horizons, No. 18
October, 1990
Copyright 1990, Biblical Horizons
15. The leech has two daughters, "Give," "Give." There are three things that will not be satisfied, Four that will not say, "Enough": 16. Sheol, And the barren womb, Earth, that is never satisfied with water, And fire that never says, "Enough."
We are assuming, at least for the purposes of discussion and illustration, that the patriarch Jacob is Sojourner who authored Proverbs 30 (see Biblical Horizons No. 4). The Sojourner’s theme is humility. In this installment in our series, we look at a proverb dealing with dissatisfaction.
The leech is a blood-sucker, and it is never satisfied. The leech is said to have two daughters, both of which are named "Gimme." Expanding on this notion, the Sojourner gives us a climactic proverb: There are three, yea four, things that illustrate what he means by dissatisfaction.
The first is Sheol. The word "sheol" does not mean "hell," but rather the "grave" in the sense of the "place of departed people." The Bible does not teach that people lose consciousness and sleep until they awaken at the resurrection. Rather, they rest in a state of consciousness before God, or else away from God. In the Old Testament there is not much said about a distinction in where people go after death, and I believe that this is because heaven was not yet opened and so the righteous did not go there. Rather, they went to "Abraham’s bosom," while the wicked went to a place of torment in sheol (Lk. 16:22). When Jesus ascended and entered heaven, He brought the Old Testament saints with Him and from that time forward, believers go to heaven with Him when they die.
The grave is never full. Sooner or later everybody dies. The judgment of death comes to every single person.
Human leeches are like death. They will bleed you dry, and you simply have to avoid them. Stay away from them. The more you give them of yourself or of your possessions, the more they want. Ultimately, they will kill you, if you don’t get away from them. Compare Proverbs 1:8-12; 6:1-5.
Human leeches are also like the barren womb. For most women, failure to have children is a cause of continual and unremitting distress. The Biblical doctrine of adoption means that all our children are born dead and have to be brought to life again by baptism. In a real sense, all our children are adopted at the baptismal . Thus, the barren womb can be satisfied through the adoption of unwanted children. Those who do not or will not understand the beauty of adoption, however, can become very distorted in their lust for "natural" children, causing distress to themselves and to those around them.
Human leeches are, third, like earth that drinks water. It may rain a lot, but sooner or later it soaks into the ground. Under the Old Covenant, the ground was God’s agent to minister the curse to man. No matter how much good rain fell from heaven (Dt. 11:11), the earth always drank it up. If you wanted water to drink, you had to have a cistern to catch and keep some of it. In the same way, human leeches will drink up and defile every good gift heaven sends them or you give them. Compare John 7:38.
Finally, human leeches are like fire. Fire never goes out by itself as long as there is something combustible for it to spread to. Fire does not go out unless you take steps to put it out. Just so, you may have to take positive measures to get rid of a human leech.
Fire in the Bible is often associated with the tongue and gossip (Prov. 16:27; James 3:6; cp. the "thorns" of Ex. 22:6). If someone starts up a bad report about you, it will take heroic measures to set the record straight. People love gossip, and drink it up avidly. They then catch fire and repeat it. In this way, people are like destructive leeches.
Bloodsucking vampires are like this. They want you to join them in hellish (Sheolish) evil. They want to seduce your children to join their barren wombs. They drink up all that you give them. They catch fire and destroy you by telling lies about you. Avoid them.
Such people are not humble. They are not content with their place in life. They have a drive to get more and more, and a drive to tear down what other people have. To some extent this is true of all of us, but the proverb particularly warns us to avoid people who are totally taken over with this mindset.
Did Jacob know about this? Of course. Esau was the prime example of it.
Like the leech, Esau was a vampire. Once when he came in from the field from hunting, he was hungry. Unwilling to get one of the servants to fix a meal for him, he demanded some of Jacob’s lentils. Notice Esau’s words: "Let me have a swallow of the red, this red stuff" — therefore his name was called Edom (Red) (Gen. 25:30). Esau, you see, thought that Jacob was cooking blood. We can readily assume that as a hunter, Esau had often drunk blood in the field, in defiance of God’s command (Gen. 9:4).
Esau was a vampire man. He readily traded his birthright for what he thought was blood soup, but then wanted it back. "Gimme, gimme" was his outlook on life.
Esau was also a murderer, seeking to send Jacob to Sheol (Gen. 28:41). In Genesis 32:6, Esau came out with an army of 400 men to kill Jacob, but Jacob bought him off with a bribe of many gifts.
To see the barren womb in action, we look at Rachel, bitterly envious of her fruitful sister Leah, demanding of Jacob, "Gimme children lest I die of shame" (Gen. 30:1). What could Jacob do? He was angry with Rachel and said, "Am I God, that I should open your womb?" So Rachel sinned by sending her handmaid to Jacob, who sinned in lying with her, and thereby got children for herself (Gen. 30:2-8).
As a young man, Jacob had seen the thirsty ground (unbelievers) drink up his father Isaac’s water. Each time Isaac dug a well, the Philistines stole it from him, until finally they began to fear God and converted (Gen. 26:12-33). In another way, Jacob experienced the same thing when wicked Laban used up Jacob’s wives’ dowries, and also sought to steal back everything he gave Jacob earned (Gen. 30:35, 38; 31:1-16).
Finally, Jacob knew what happens when the fire of a bad report breaks out, for his sons committed a terrible atrocity against the people of the land, and when news of this atrocity spread, Jacob was forced to move away (Gen. 34:30).
Biblical Chronology
Vol. 2, No. 10
October, 1990
Copyright © James B. Jordan 1990
By James B. Jordan
As we have seen in previous installments in this series, the Old Testament is quite concerned with chronology, and carefully records chronological data for our use. For this reason, we can assume when we come to the chronology of the kings of Judah and Israel that the writers of the narrative intend for us to understand the data they provide in a fairly straightforward manner. It would be nice to settle once and for all whether the years are counted from the spring lunar new year (month Nisan) or from the autumnal solar new year (month Tishri), but we simply are not told directly one way or another, and there is much debate about the matter. And, as far as adding up the years is concerned, it does not make any difference.
There is no summary statement of years for the period of the kings, so we are forced to add up the separate reigns of the kings in order to come to a total. Here is where the problem comes in. There are a great many individual pieces of chronological data in the books of Kings and Chronicles, some of which are initially quite puzzling.
For instance, 2 Kings 8:26 says that Ahaziah was a son of 22 years old when he began to reign, while 2 Chronicles 22:2 says that Ahaziah was a son of 42 years when he began to reign. On the surface this is a plain contradiction. When we look at the chronology, however, we find that Ahaziah began to reign 42 years after the dynasty of Omri began, so that the Chronicler is calling attention to the fact that the Judahite king Ahaziah was from the house of Omri and deserved the destruction of that house that was shortly to take place. Anstay comments: "This is not the `modern’ way of writing history, but it is the way of the Old Testament writers, and the way of the New Testament writers too, and if we want to understand their writings we must put ourselves at their point of view, and not force our meaning into their words." Anstay points to the genealogy of Matthew 1, which omits certain names for theological reasons, as New Testament evidence of this theological way of writing history (Martin Anstay, Chronology of the Old Testament [Grand Rapids: Kregel, (1913) 1973], p. 182).
Interregna
The most significant chronological challenge comes with the question of interregna. On the face of it, there are several places in the chronology where there is a gap between the death of one king and the accession of his successor: an interregnum. If we eliminate these interregna, we come up with a shorter chronology.
The first we shall consider arises from 2 Kings 15:1, where we are told that Uzziah (Azariah) began to reign in Judah during the 27th year of the reign of the Israelite king Jeroboam II. This is a problem because 2 Kings 14:23 says that Jeroboam II became king of Israel in the 15th year of the reign of Amaziah of Judah, and Amaziah only reigned 29 years (2 Kings 14:1). This means that Amaziah of Judah died around the 15th year of Jeroboam II of Israel, and creates an interregnum of twelve or so years between the death of Amaziah and the accession of Uzziah. (Anstay provides arguments to show that it was in fact eleven years, but in this essay we shall not go into all the fine points of discussion.)
Some chronologers, including Ussher and Thiele, have felt that interregna are untidy, and have sought to eliminate them when they occur in the chronology of the kings. One way to do this is to suppose that Jeroboam II actually began to reign as Co-Rex with his father Jehoash of Israel, and reigned as Co-Rex for twelve or so years. Thus, when 2 Kings 14:23 says that Jeroboam II became king of Israel in the 15th year of Amaziah of Judah, what it means is that Jeroboam II became sole king in that year; while when 2 Kings 15:1 says that Uzziah became king of Judah in Jeroboam II’s 27th year, it means the 27th year from the beginning of his co-regency with his father.
Another way to eliminate the interregnum is to suppose that 2 Kings 15:1 means that Uzziah became king in the 27th year of Jeroboam II in the sense that he threw off Jeroboam II’s domination of the nation of Judah. Thus, Uzziah became a king at the age of 16 upon the death of his father, but for twelve or so years was simply a vassal of Jeroboam II. This is the position Alfred Edersheim takes in his Bible History.
The party favoring the interregnum interpretation points out that both of these approaches to the matter are based on sheer supposition, and that the simplest and most grammatical reading of the text leads to the interregnum interpretation. Moreover, say that interregnum defenders, we are told that Amaziah was assassinated in a conspiracy, clearly a civil war, and that Uzziah was only 16 years old when he came to the throne twelve years later (2 Kings 14:19-21). Thus, we are to understand that there was a time of civil conflict for these twelve years. The country had been defeated by (Northern) Israel and was in a state of vassaldom, and this would tend to destabilize the nation of Judah. Moreover, God was punishing Judah for idolatry, according to 2 Chronicles 25.
And after all, continues the pro-interregnum argument, we know that there was an interregnum in the Davidic line between Ahaziah and Jehoash of Judah, when Athaliah ruled the country (2 Kings 11). Jehoash was too young to be brought to the throne when Athaliah usurped it, so that those favoring the Davidic line waited several years before challenging Athaliah. So likewise Uzziah was too young to become king after the assassination of his father Amaziah. The pro-Davidic party in Judah waited until the conspirators had grown lax, and until Uzziah was 16 years old, before making their move.
Of these two scenarios, I personally prefer the interregnum interpretation. I can understand a short co-regency, when a dying king makes his son king with him in order to ensure succession, but I find a co-regency of twelve or so years hard to fathom. Also, the interregnum interpretation is simpler. At the same time, it is pretty hard to be absolutely dogmatic about the matter.
This is the only interregnum proposed for the chronology of Judah. In the history of Israel two interregna seem to be required by the text, one between Jeroboam II and his son and successor Zechariah (cp. 2 Kings 14:23; 15:1 & 8), and the other between Pekah and Hoshea (2 Kings 15:27, 32-33; 16:1-2; 17:1). In the latter case, Hoshea mounted a conspiracy against Pekah, and slew him. This seems to have led to eight years of strife before Hoshea was made king.
A greater mystery hangs over the interregnum between Jeroboam II and Zechariah, since Jeroboam was a strong king and it seems unlikely that there would be 22 or so years of strife before his son came to the throne. Perhaps another son was on the throne during these years, and the Bible does not mention him. Ozanne’s explanation may be the best: "It would seem that so long as Jeroboam was alive he was able to hold the kingdom together, but that on his death it broke up into warring factions, headed up by such men as Zechariah, Shallum, and Menahem, each contending for the throne. After 23 years of civil war and strife Zechariah gained the upper hand, only, however, to meet his death six months later at the hand of Shallum" — who was himself killed a month later by Menahem. (C. G. Ozanne, The First 7000 Years [New York: Exposition Press, 1970], p. 74). The reign of Jeroboam II was characterized by continual distress in Israel (2 Kings 13:4; 14:26), and when the strong hand of Jeroboam was removed, chaos ensued.
The only way to avoid these interregna is to assume some very long co-regencies, which the Bible does not support. The notion that there were times of civil strife after kings were murdered is more satisfactory. Remember that both Israel and Judah, especially Israel, were confederacies with strong tribal governments. The nations could continue to function without kings for a time. Because Kings is a theological history, we simply are not given all the month-by-month details of these crisis times.
For Now …
It is clear that the only way to acquire a chronology for the period of the Kings is to proceed king by king, weighing evidence and comparing interpretations. In previous issues of this newsletter, we have been able to devote an entire issue to a key passage and its interpretation. It would bog us down to start going through Kings in this manner, so that for now I shall simply record my preliminary finding, which is that the arguments found in Anstay’s work are for the most part the most convincing. There are some places where I think better interpretations can be had, but in the main Anstay simply summarizes the work of the best and most sober chronologists of the past. Perhaps in the future, after following out the chronology of the Bible in broad strokes, we can come back and do a more rigorous job on the history of the kingdoms.
The Temple was completed in the year AM 3000 (see Biblical Chronology 2:8). Using Anstay’s chronology of the kings, the fall of Samaria took place in the year AM 3293, and the fall of Jerusalem took place in AM 3426.
