BIBLICAL Horizons, No. 99
Copyright 1997 Biblical Horizons
November, 1997
During the past two decades, the "quest of the historical Jesus" has entered a new phase. The first incarnation of the quest was rudely shaken by the publication of Albert Schweitzer’s classic Quest of the Historical Jesus, easily the most devastating and funniest work of New Testament scholarship ever written. In the wake of Schweitzer, skeptical Bultmannians dominated the field. For Rudolph Bultmann, very little could be known of the historical Jesus; but that hardly mattered, since whatever He said or did, all of it was just a call to decision and authentic living, however bound Jesus Himself might have been to the mythological categories of apocalyptic and Torah. History and faith were as far apart as Kipling’s east and west. Surprisingly, a "new quest" was launched among Bultmann’s own disciples, especially among postwar German scholars who had seen first-hand how an ahistorical Jesus could be coopted for ideological and bloody purposes, but this movement never really removed itself completely from the long shadow of Bultmann.
The current "third quest" holds more promise. Like most such scholarly movements, the "third quest" is amorphous, but among its defining features is an effort to place Jesus in the context of first-century Judaism, and a corresponding emphasis on the political dimensions of Jesus’ life and teaching. This is implicit in the work of the late Ben Meyer and E. P. Sanders, who both describe Jesus’ mission as an effort to restore Israel. Defining "politics" broadly as a "concern for the structure and destiny of an historical community," Marcus Borg argues explicitly that a political concern for the destiny of Israel, including its destiny vis-�-vis Rome, was a basic dimension of Jesus’ mission. In his recent, superb, Jesus and the Victory of God, N. T. Wright portrays Jesus as an eschatological prophet, but, against Schweitzer, contends that the essential content of Jesus’ eschatological preaching did not have to do with the imminent end of the cosmos but with the Roman threat to the existence of Israel. For Wright, Jesus’ eschatology, like that of Old Testament prophets, is itself political.
Traditional believers may react to these scholarly trends with some trepidation, fearing the specter of liberation theology or the reduction of Jesus to a social reformer, and certainly not all of the proposals have merit. In Borg’s portrait, Jesus comes off as a leader of a first-century peace movement, which, apart from the dubious implication that Jesus had pacifist tendencies, drastically undermines Jesus’ messianic claims. In general, however, the evidence is massively in favor of a politically interested Jesus, particularly if politics is broadly defined. For starters, it goes beyond the borders of absurdity to suggest that any teacher of first-century Judaism, or any child of Abraham, could be unconcerned about the "geopolitical" question of the standing of God’s Israel among the nations; in a fundamental sense, to repoliticize Jesus is merely to take Him seriously as an historical figure.
Moreover, the gospels indicate that Jesus did address some of the burning political concerns of the day: He refused to countenance whatever violent resistance movements then existed, a stance that, then as today, was not "apolitical" so much as a proposal of a different politics. Along these lines, He specifically urged His disciples to "render to Caesar" whatever taxes were due him. Whether or not Borg is correct that Jesus’ teachings about "turning the other cheek" and "going the second mile" were intended as instructions about relations with occupying Roman troops (the "enemy"), these teachings delineate a particular posture for Jesus’ disciples in the face of oppressive powers. Finally, with a frequency that is only now becoming apparent to professional New Testament scholars, Jesus, like Jeremiah before Him, warned of the disasters that awaited stubborn nationalists in Israel.
Given the weight of evidence, the interesting problem is not whether Jesus should be "repoliticized" but why He was ever "depoliticized" in the first place. In fact, the whole vocabulary of politicization, with whatever prefix, rests on assumptions wholly foreign to Jesus and to the Judaism of His day. One is in danger of "politicizing" religion, after all, only if religion and politics are first considered separable areas of concern, only if they can be set side by side so that one can "influence" or "distort" the other. And one can make this separation only if one defines religion’s essence apolitically, whether as private devotion, as "encounter with the numinous holy," as good will, or as ultimate concern. The roots and branches of this conception of religion are complex, but it is worth noting that here modern philosophy of religion corresponds perfectly with modern political practice, both fencing off a region of privatized religion and protecting the public square from its influence. It occasions no surprise that an enemy of the faith such as Nietzsche should claim that an aversion to the external world, including politics and culture, was of the essence of the religion of Jesus. More surprising is the fact that Christians should want to play along. Yet, every time a Christian attributes the current malaise of the church to "social" or "political" factors – and such attributions are legion – he accepts the autonomy of the political. Like a man who lays bricks while cursing the separating wall, Christians thus reinforce the very marginality that they, with the next breath, denounce.
In the Old Testament, politics is internal to the religious covenant that Yahweh made with Israel: Crime and punishment were extensively treated in the Torah revealed at Sinai; Samuel, a prophet and "seer," warned Israel that in choosing a king they were rejecting Yahweh as their true king, and that they would pay dearly for their transfer of loyalty; the prophets insisted that reliance on foreign alliances for security manifested at bottom a distrust of Yahweh’s willingness and power to save; to ask whether David was a "religious" or a "political" figure is palpable nonsense. The early church’s preaching and activity also carried political freight: the claim that "Jesus is Lord" involved the inevitable corollary that Caesar was not, and there has always been a sharp political edge to the claim that the church is the new human race, the true polis and ekklesia, both of which terms had a prominent place in Greco-Roman politics and political theory. For the Bible, there is no "political" separable from "religion," nor is it true to say that religion has political "implications," for that too implies that religion is, at least in its pure state, private and apolitical. To depoliticize Jesus one has stand outside the world of the Bible. Liberation theologies have been denounced, rightly, for forcing Jesus into a Marxist mold, but an apolitical Jesus is just as much an optical illusion created by projecting modern prejudice on the screen of the gospels.
This indicates that the stakes in the "third quest" go even further than the laudable and necessary effort to recover a more accurate account of the life and work of Jesus. What is at stake is the liberation of the gospels from the modern straitjacket of privatized religion, a liberation that will enable the gospels to be heard as a word of life spoken to the modern world, rather than a mimicry of modern talk in ancient accents.
BIBLICAL Horizons, No. 99
Copyright 1997 Biblical Horizons
November, 1997
At the 1997 Biblical Horizons Summer Conference, the Rev. Jeffrey Meyers presented a series of remarkable lectures on the gospel of Mark. Among his many insightful comments, he suggested that the second gospel continues where the first gospel ends; Matthew ends with Jesus saying "Go" (Matthew 28:19), and Mark’s shows the "way" to go (Mark 1:2-3). In the course of the gospel, Mark indicates that the "way of the Lord" in which Jesus’ disciples are to walk is a path of suffering and death. In Mark’s gospel, Jesus demonstrates His glory and His Lordship supremely in His death, evoking a confession of faith from the centurion (Mark 15:39). (This point is stronger if Mark originally ended with 16:8.)
As Meyers pointed out, there seems to be some tension between the conception of lordship found in the gospels and the traditional Reformed emphasis on the sovereignty of God. According to the gospels, Jesus shows His glory and greatness by becoming servant of all, even to death; according to the Reformed conception, God’s Lordship means His control and authority over all things, His disposing of all things according to His own will. There is, of course, nothing inherently wrong with tensions in theological systems. Because God and His ways with the creation are incomprehensible, there will always be loose ends, paradox, apparent contradiction. But tensions can also be symptoms of some theological malady crying out for medication. I believe that such may be the case here.
The traditional picture of God’s sovereignty fails to do complete justice to the Christian doctrine of creation. When we talk of God’s sovereignty, the picture we have in mind is often of God’s pulling the strings and controlling our movements from the "outside." We think of God’s relation to the creation as being somewhat analogous to a child’s relation to a set of toy soldiers: he moves them around, kills some and rescues others, decides whether the reinforcements are going to get to the field in time or whether they will be delayed by bad weather, and determines which army wins the battles.
While this kind of analogy is not theologically useless, we need to recognize the fundamental discontinuity: unlike the child playing with his toy soldiers, the creation is not only moved around and controlled by God but also owes its very existence to God. The child can leave his armies in the sandbox, and even forget about them for weeks, but (discounting the possibility that other children might invade the battleground) the soldiers will still be there when he comes back. But without the Lord’s continual sustenance of the creation, we simply would not be. If our conception of sovereignty pictures God manipulating the creation as a child manipulates his armies, we have already granted the creation some measure of autonomy: the creation is out there, independent of God, and God "intervenes" to move things around. God’s relation to creation is more like the relation of an author to a novel, for without the author the novel’s world is never brought into existence. Even this analogy is imperfect, of course, since, once complete and published, the novel floats free of its author. So, God’s sovereignty is over creation is inseparable from His continual gift of the creation.
We need to go a step further and recognize that this God’s gift of creation is a self-giving; the fact that I exist is grounded in the fact that God gives Himself to me. To understand this we need to reflect for a moment on the Trinity. God did not need to create the world, but it is entirely consistent with His essential character to do so. The eternal foundation for the act of creation lies in the interTrinitarian relations. The Father eternally begets the Son, and the Spirit eternally proceeds from Father and Son; in Augustinian terms, the Spirit is eternally given from Father to Son and from Son to Father, being the Love that binds Lover and Beloved. In short, it is of the nature of the Trinity and of each person to go "outside" Himself to give Himself to Another; each Person is, in the original sense, "ecstatic," moving outside Himself to offer Himself in love.
Reflecting this interTrinitarian circle of self-gift, creation is also an act of self-giving love, though of course in this case the self-giving produces something that is other than God Himself. He did not need the creation to fulfill Himself, or to satisfy some need for love and fellowship. Creation is purely gratuitous, an act of love. In the light of the previous paragraph, it is precisely what we expect God to do: to create something other than Himself that He can then enfold in lovingkindness.
Like creation itself, God’s continual providential rule and care for the creation is likewise an outflow of His eternal love. Every moment, the creation is kept in existence by the loving gift of the Spirit, the Lord and Giver of life, Life Himself, from the Father and Son. Every heartbeat depends on this continual outpouring of God’s loving activity, every movement is dependent on His prior movement. I do this or that only because His energy works in me to do this or that. In short, God is not only directing creation from outside but moving it from within, and both the directing from without and the moving from within are acts of self-giving, wholly gratuitous love.
In the perspective of creation, as in the life of Jesus, sovereignty and self-gift are synonymous. And this is what we must say, if we confess that Jesus is the climactic Word revealing the Father (John 1; Hebrews 1:1).
BIBLICAL Horizons, No. 99
Copyright 1997 Biblical Horizons
November, 1997
The initial chapters of Joshua demonstrate that Joshua is a new Moses, completing the task that Moses began. Moses is named ten times in the first chapter; though dead, he still dominates the scene. The book begins with the announcement of Moses’ death (1:1); Yahweh promises to fulfill what He has spoken to Moses and to be with Joshua as He had been with Moses (1:3, 5, 17); Joshua is told to meditate on the law delivered through Moses (1:7); and the transJordanian tribes pledge their loyalty to Joshua as they had to Moses (1:17).
With this in the background, it is not surprising that the events of Joshua 1-6 closely parallel Israel’s deliverance from Egypt. Since the conquest completes the exodus (cf. Exodus 15:14-18), it is fitting that the entry into the land is larded over with Passover-Exodus allusions. In chapter 3, the Jordan parts and Israel crosses on dry ground; then the Israelite men are circumcised and they celebrate Passover, which is immediately followed by the destruction of the city and the deliverance of Rahab’s house. The exodus followed this pattern: Destruction of Egypt, Passover, Water crossing. Now the entry into the land chiastically reverses the sequence: Water crossing, Passover, Destruction of Jericho. (The two spies who enter a house in a doomed city also reminds us of the two angels visiting Sodom and delivering Lot’s house; Jericho is both Sodom and Egypt, cf. Rev. 11:8. Closer to home, they parallel Moses and Aaron before Pharaoh.)
The chiastic structure of Joshua 2 serves to reinforce the Passover connections especially. The chapter can be outlined as follows:
2:1: spies enter Jericho, Rahab’s house
2:2-7: Rahab sends out the men from Jericho
2:8-14: rooftop covenant
2:15-22: Rahab sends out the spies
2:23-24: the spies return to Joshua
Rahab’s house is the geographic center of this story; the action is concerned with the comings and goings to and from her house. For Israel, her house becomes a house of refuge, as the houses of Israel were on Passover, and as her house will become for her family when Jericho is destroyed; by giving life to the spies of Yahweh she receives a promise of life. The men of Jericho, however, are not welcomed; she shows them no hospitality; the serpents are not allowed into the garden. At the center of the structure is a covenant-making episode, which, significantly, takes place in a mountain-like setting, and in which Rahab recalls the promise of land to Abraham, the Lord’s deliverance from Egypt, and Israel’s victories in the transJordan.
To fill out the structure of this chapter, we can also note the chiasms within some of the larger units. 2:2-7 breaks down as follows:
2:2-3: king of Jericho sends for the spies
2:4a: Rahab had hidden the spies
2:4b-5: Rahab sends out the men of Jericho
(shut the gate)
2:6: Rahab had hidden the spies
2:7: men pursue the spies (shut the gate)
This structure explains the repetition of 2:4a in verse 6 that has troubled commentators.
The central section, 2:8-14, is also carefully constructed. There is an inclusio in 2:9 and 2:14: "Yahweh has given the land." Otherwise, the section is a double chiasm. First, Rahab, in one of the longest speeches given by a woman in the Bible, professes her faith in Yahweh:
2:9a: Yahweh has given the land
2:9b: our hearts melted
2:10a: exodus
2:10b: conquest of Sihon and Og
2:11a: hearts melted
2:11b: Yahweh is God of heaven and earth
Note the parallel of exodus and conquest; the exodus was a conquest of Egypt, and the conquest an exodus into a new land and situation. Also note that Rahab identifies Yahweh, the God who keeps His promise to give Israel the land, as the God of the Gentiles, of heaven and earth.
The story continues with Rahab’s request for assurances from the spies that her family will be spared, to which they agree.
2:12a: I have dealt kindly with you
2:12b-13: deliver my family’s life
2:14a: our lives for yours
2:14b: we will deal kindly
Though simplified, we can detect in this covenant-forming scene some of the pattern of covenant-making in general: a review of Yahweh’s gracious dealings with Israel, a reminder of obligations, and an oath.
Finally, 2:15-21 also has a chiastic structure, and here the Passover comes prominently to view.
2:15: spies escape through window
2:16: Rahab speaks: "Go to the hills"
2:17: free from oath
2:18a: unless you tie scarlet cord
2:18b: gather household in house
2:19: bloodguilt
2:20: free from oath
2:21a: Rahab speaks: spies depart
2:21b: Rahab ties cord at window
The structure highlights the Passover connections in several ways. It underlines what is evident in the narrative, namely, that the window with the scarlet cord is a way of escape (the cord parallels the rope), like the bloody doorway of Passover. This is reinforced by the parallel of 2:18a and 2:19, where the scarlet cord is linked with blood guilt: If the cord of blood is not displayed, then the blood of Rahab’s family will be shed, with impunity, by Israel; only a display of "blood" will save Rahab from a bloody death. Finally, the center of this section repeats the command of Exodus 12:22. These structural indications should eliminate doubt (commonly expressed by commentators) that Rahab’s deliverance is to be understood as a Passover.
To round things out, the chapter ends with the spies returning to where they began to deliver their report. Structurally, we may note that their report to Joshua in 2:24 picks up on the speech of Rahab in 2:9-11, the central section of the passage (Lord gives land; people melt). The spies agree with Rahab that Jericho is ripe for judgment; and Israel, having learned the lessons of Kadesh Barnea, accepts the encouraging report and prepares for war.
Biblical Chronology, Vol. 9, No. 11
Copyright James B. Jordan 1997
November, 1997
Day 3.
The third day completes the initial structuring work and the initial filling work. First, God separates land and sea, putting the sea below the land. This reproduces the configuration that has just been set up in heaven: land over sea. The earth is being modelled after heaven. There is now an altar-platform on the earth as well as right below heaven (the firmament). The configuration of the whole universe at this point can be diagrammed as follows:
Heaven: Throne (fire-matter-air)
Sea
Firmament: Outer space
Blue sky
Earth: Fire (firmament-heaven light)
Air
Land
Sea
Only at this point, in the middle the third day, is the structuring work "good," because now the earth has been made after the image of heaven.
Verse 9 does not say that the land was thrust up above the sea, but that the sea was gathered to that the land appeared. In other words, part of the land sank down and the water ran off from the rest of the land. The downward flow of the water is baptismal, we we have noted above.
The land is now ready to be productive; things can be generated out of it. Up to this point, conditions were not right; now they are. Plants appear. Plants are "machines" that convert water, air, fire (light), and earth into food and decoration. Plants are the initial form of glory over the land, replicating God’s glory in blossoms, scents, and food. Let us recall that man is made of soil, and so is destined also to be covered in glory. Perhaps it is noteworthy that glory was to be conferred on man by eating of the Tree of Knowledge, after the temporary probation. (That it was temporary is clear from 1:29.) Plants, the glory of the land, would pass on glory to man, made of the land. In the church, we get the glory of Christ from plants: bread and wine.
Only two kinds of plants are specified as having been made at this point. Only grain plants and fruit-bearing trees are mentioned. According to 2:5, the "shrubs of the earth" were not made at this point. This leaves many kinds of plants unaccounted for. We simply don’t know when God made other kinds of food plants, or when He made the plants of the water. It may be that grape vines were made on the third day, or it may be that, since Noah was the first to plant a vineyard, they did not appear until after the Flood (9:20, according to one way to translating this verse). All the same, fruits and grains are the foundation of fermented juice and bread and oil, the sacramental plant-products used in the Bible throughout. Every Israelite had his own field, vineyard, and olive grove: his own cosmos, as an image of God.
Let me suggest that the three kinds of plants mentioned in Genesis 1-2 are the root of the three special plants of the kingdom: fruit trees (olive; oil); grains (bread); shrubs (vines; wine). We shall find this same kind of triple list later in the chapter also.
Plants are the vestments of glory for the land. If we study covenant-making events later on the Bible, we find that being vested by God as His glorious servant is part of the covenant event, one way or another. This is most obvious in the vesting of Aaron, but baptism (which clothes us with water) is another example.
At the end of the third day, God has finished taking care of the three problems facing Him at the beginning. The world is no longer dark, unstructured, or empty. I shall be bold and suggest that these three problems reveal in a very general way the three Persons of God. Clearly, the Spirit gives the light, but we begin at the Throne of God with the Father speaking the Word and sending the Spirit. The filling or glorifying is to be associated with the Spirit, for He is the glorifier. The structure of the creation is to be associated with the Son, who holds all things in their place (Colossians 1:17); and the Son is the Firmament, the Mediator between heaven and earth.
Note also:
grain bread – Son
olive oil – Spirit
wine – Father (the drink of rest and enthronement)
Finally, the completion of the initial work on the third day opens up the third-day theme that is found throughout the Bible. The third day is always the time of initial completion and judgment, which makes possible the last four days of the week.
Psalm 104:5-18 comments as follows. Initially the waters were over the mountains, but then they fled down to the seas. God set a boundary that they might not again cover the earth. This seems to include the Flood in its perspective, for only after the Flood was it true that the waters would never cover the earth again.
Various kinds of watering are mentioned: springs, streams, rain; and then the two kinds of plants we have seen mentioned on the third day: grass for cattle and bread for man in v. 14; wine, oil, and bread in v. 15.
Day 4.
Coming after the third day, when the initial work was completed, the fourth day is a preliminary sabbath. A study of the sabbath in the Bible will show that it is associated with enthroned rest, and the enthronement of rulers is the fourth-day theme.
The fourth day is the center of the week, and the center of the narrative, chiastically considered. If we read the narrative in a linear fashion, the climax is the sabbath; but if we read it chiastically, we move inward to the central thought, which as we have just noted is a preliminary sabbath. It is the beauty of chiastic writing that it enables the writer to do several things at once. He can put the opening and final thoughts at the beginning and end, and the central or governing thought in the center. Also, he moves up to the central or pivotal thought, and then back out.
Thus, the fourth day is central. Man, made on the sixth day, is symbolically positioned in the firmament, made on the second. Now man is described in terms of lights placed in the firmament. Under the Old Creation, these angelically-administered lights governed time, festivals, important days and years, and ruled the earth. In the New Creation, in Christ, man now does these things, which is why the Old Creation calendar is superseded in Christ.
The fourth day is pivotal. It provides a second completion to the first three days, and introduces the latter three days. In terms of completion, the fourth day finishes the four-fold orientation of the world, displayed in the tabernacle:
West Ark-throne Heaven (day 1)
East Altar-platform Firmament before God (day 2)
North Table of Bread Plants on land (day 3)
South Lampstand Lights in firmament (day 4)
Again:
Day 1 Throne Father
Day 2 High Altar Son
Day 3a Low Altar Son
Day 3b Glory Plants Spirit
Day 4 Glory Lights Spirit
(For an extended discussion, see my essay "Behind the Scenes: Orientation in the Book of Revelation," available from Biblical Horizons , Box 1096, Niceville, FL 32588.)
The fourth day also completes a movement down and back up. We began in heaven, moved down to the light in the sky, down to the firmament, down to the land and then down to the sea (v. 10), back up through the plants that grow toward heaven, and farther up into the firmament of stars.
On the other hand, the fourth day begins the second half of the week. We have moved from light to structure to filling already. Now we begin again with light, move to filling (days 5 and 6a), and then to structure (man as ruler, "subduer"), and end with the Great Day of the sabbath, a return to eschatological light.
Thus, the fourth day is chiastically related not only to the second and sixth days, but also to the first and seventh. We begin with the primordial light of the Spirit. At the center we find the lights within the cosmos, which signify angels and men. At the end we come back to the Day of God, the eschatological Light. This is essentially a movement from Spirit to Son to Father.
On the fourth day, God congealed the light within the earth into bodies inside the visible firmament. We saw that the light originally came from the shining of the Spirit, and then by implication was spread out in the firmament, which was located where the Spirit was. The alternation of evening and morning was an alternation of a bright sky with a relatively dark one. Now that light sky congeals to form the heavenly bodies.
This congealing formed the stars and galaxies that we see in the sky. In terms of how the universe works, it is perhaps no surprise that in congealing, this plasma acquired rotation, forming spinning stars, double stars, planets, moons, and rotating galaxies. This did not take millions of years, however, but happened quite rapidly. It is entirely conceivable, however, that some of the currently proposed mechanisms of how the universe came to have its present configuration are correct, but that the timing is way off. Possibly the earth began her rotation at this point as well.
Isaiah 40:22 may shed a good deal of light on the firmament and the starry heavens. The second half of the verse reads:
The One stretching out like a thin veil heavens,
And spreading them out like a tent for dwelling.
Note that in the first phrase, the heavens are a thin veil, as thin as a layer of dust (as the Hebrew implies); while in the second phrase the heavens are a spacious tent.
On the basis of this, and from Genesis 1, I suggest that the following is the sequence of events:
First, on Day 1 a created light of glory is positioned above the earth.
Second, on Day 2 that light is stretched out as a thin veil over the earth.
Third, on Day 4 that veil is spread upwards and outwards to form outer space. The substance of the veil is broken up and congeals to form stars, planets, asteroids, dust, etc. This rapid spreading upwards and outwards from the earth may account for some aspects of "red shift" phenomena.
The appointment of rulers and governors is always part of a covenantal act of God, as when Abraham was set up to minister to the nations, or when Israel was given rulers in Exodus 18.
In terms of cosmology, a few further thoughts are warranted. Physically speaking, we have seen that the firmament is outer space, above the atmosphere where the birds fly. In the Old Creation, the departed saints seem to have dwelt in the firmament. Whether this was in another dimension or in outer space, we don’t know. We do know that they were near the highest heaven, and were able to communicate with God (Revelation 6:9-11; the altar spoken of is the Incense Altar, located in the firmament of the Holy Place, which is the symbolic ladder that reaches from the firmament heavens to the highest heavens).
At the same time, it does not appear that we can see through the firmament with telescopes and discern the throne of God. The firmament continues to be a barrier between heaven and earth until the full end of history. Heaven is located somewhere else, not contiguous with the physical cosmos we can travel in.
There are a couple of possibilities. One is that somehow the firmament (outer space) is closed in upon itself, circular in some way, so that to travel far enough in one direction is to return to one’s starting point. This is one modern theory. Another is that the universe is truly infinite. This is not unacceptable to Christian belief. God is infinite in Himself, independently infinite, while an infinite universe is dependently infinite. Consider that human beings will live forever, and are thus infinite in that sense. Possibly the universe goes on forever, and the removal of the firmament at the end of history will mean that heaven is near to every part of it.
Turning to another question: At the present time, it is widely assumed that the speed of light is the same everywhere in the universe, and has always been the same. Thus, the stars are said to be trillions of miles away from the earth, measured in terms of the span of time it takes light to travel in a year (light-years). This notion, we must insist, is simply an assumption. The modern view is that space is "nothingness," and is therefore the same throughout. From the standpoint of creation, however, space is created, a "something" called the firmament. Space is a matrix in which all the bodies in space move, and through which light moves.
There is no good reason to think that the speed of light is the same everywhere in the universe. Light may travel much faster between stars, and still faster between galaxies; that is, light may travel much faster away from "gravity wells" like the sun and the earth. Light from the farthest places in the universe may well reach us in only a few years.
Moreover, there is no good reason to think that the speed of light has remained the same throughout history. It may have begun at near infinity, and have slowed down exponentially since then. If the curve of the speed of light’s diminution is hyperbolic, then it may be that by now it is slowing down at a very slow, almost imperceptible rate. Or, to put it another way: If the matrix of space expanded rapidly on the fourth day, as I have suggested, then perhaps the "thinning" of that firmament-matrix resulted in a diminution of the speed of light through it.
In short, there is no reason to reject the notion that the starry universe rapidly expanded and congealed on the fourth day, and that light from faraway objects reaches us rather rapidly. Modern scientific theories and constructs are against this idea, but until we actually move into space and measure light’s speed, we shall not know. Our researches have only begun to scratch the surface of the outer foyer of the starry universe.
The heavenly lights were made to govern, and government is not primarily spatial, but temporal. The governing lights separated day and night, and were established as symbols, for setting up festival times (mistranslated "seasons"), days, and years. We see this throughout the Old Creation. The people of God knew when to celebrate Passover, a day, by observing the sun’s vernal equinox and then the first new moon thereafter, and then counting fourteen days to the full moon. The signs of the zodiac, to which the Bible refers more than once, were also part of the symbolic display of the firmament.
We may learn from this that the real power of government is the appointment of times, the kinds of times mentioned in Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.
We find another triplex of created objects here:
Great Light Father (the source of light)
Lesser Light Son (reflects the Father as His Image)
Stars Spirit (who gathers the host)
Finally, we should say a few words about geocentricity. The Bible is frankly geocentric in two important respects. First, the earth was made before the starry heavens and the sun. Everything moves out from the earth in Genesis 1. Second, the earth is the center of affairs, where humanity is placed and where Christ died and was resurrected. The Bible does not, however, teach that the earth is geographically or cosmically located at the center of the physical universe. Indeed, this is an unimportant question, and possibly a fallacious one. If the universe is infinite, or if it is closed in upon itself, any point in it may be considered central. In fact, when Jesus says, "Wherever two or three are gathered together in My name, there I am," He is saying that wherever the Church is planted is the center. Along these lines, consider where the center of the surface of a sphere is located. Any point on the surface of a sphere can be considered the center. Is Ararat, or Jerusalem, or Rome, the physical center of the world? Yes and no. Since humanity proceeded from Ararat after Noah, that is the center. Or it was. Is it still? To ask such a question is virtually to answer it. Whether or not the earth is physically located at the center of the physical universe, I know not. I do know that it is not a question dealt with in the Bible. (On this, see my essay "The Geocentricity Question," available from Biblical Horizons , Box 1096, Niceville, FL 32588.)
Moon and sun are discussed in Psalm 104:19-23.
Day 5.
The fifth day sees the creation of land and sea creatures. These are said to swarm, to form clouds in the sea and air, and thus are associated with the Spirit; for it is the Spirit who gathers the host of God around Him, forming the glory cloud.
The fifth day is often mistakenly put parallel to the second, as if birds are creatures of the firmament and fishes creatures of the sea. This is not the statement of the text. Birds fly "across the face of" the firmament — in front of it, not within it (v. 20). They are not part of the firmament, like the sun and moon, but dwell below it. While birds travel (usually) in the air (which is NOT the firmament), they are said to multiply on the earth (v. 22). Indeed, birds generally nest in trees. Thus, the fifth day is chiastically parallel to the third: land & sea : creatures of land & sea.
Once again, three groups of creatures are made, to wit:
Tannins (aquatic dinosaurs) the mighty Father
Fishes (sea) the Son, the Fisher King
Birds (air & land) the hovering Spirit (1:2)
The tannins, or aquatic dinosaurs, call for comment. The word "create" is used in connection with their making, and this word always indicates a special, wondrous act of God. These great creatures show up at the end of Job as signs of God power and rule. The fact is that stories of dragons are found all over the world, and both the Bible (Job) and the Apocrypha (Daniel and the Dragon) refer to them. The notion that these great creatures had died out long before humanity arrived on the scene is contradicted by the clear testimony of history.
This is the first of three days of blessing. The blessing here is to multiply and fill. This is the blessing of the Spirit, the Divine Matchmaker, who brings man and woman together, Bride and Christ together, and who creates a host for God.
The verb "be fruitful" contains the word "fruit," both in Hebrew and in English, linking the animals conceptually with the fruit trees of the third day.
There are those who say that Genesis 1 presents three days of realms and three days of rulers. Nothing is said about the fishes ruling the sea or the birds ruling the air or land. This scheme is fallacious.
Covenantally, God’s people always form a host around Him when the covenant is renewed.
Psalm 104:24-26 mentions the swarms of the sea and the great leviathan dinosaur.
At this point it might be well to take up a criticism of creationism, which is that there are a vast plethora of fossils in the world today, including coal and oil: too many (it is claimed) to have been deposited by the Great Flood. We cannot answer this objection fully here, but we can suggest some lines of an answer. I assume that the seas before the Flood were shallow throughout, and thus all teemed with life. Genesis 7:11 says that at the Flood "all the fountains of the great deep burst open." This indicates to me that the depths of the present oceans came into being at this point.
Moreover, since all the world was to be explored and occupied by men and animals, there is reason to believe that all the world was habitable at this time. There were no deserts, nor great mountain ranges, nor polar ice. Evidence for this is found in quick-frozen mammoths with warm-weather flora in their stomachs and mouths in Siberia.
Thus, the world may well have teemed with far more life than it sustains at present, and this would account for the vast fossil deposits found on the earth today. Since the Flood Year was a "year of miracle," we are also free to assume that angels arranged these deposits in such a way that they would be useful for the coming generations of man.
(to be continued)
Rite Reasons, Studies in Worship, No. 54
Copyright (c) 1997 Biblical Horizons
November, 1997
In this essay, I wish to present some facts not familiar to many Christians, and draw some possible inferences. My purpose is to help us all become more familiar with the Psalter as God has set it out in its final and canonical form.
To begin with, let us consider four pairs of psalms that probably were originally only one psalm each. First, Psalm 9-10. In the Greek translation of the Old Testament, made before Christ and called the Septuagint, these are one psalm. It seems clear that they were originally one psalm, because Psalm 9 begins as an alphabetical acrostic, or abecedary, in which each line starts with a successive letter of the Hebrew alphabet; while Psalm 10 ends in the same fashion. The abecedary is incomplete, but is obviously present. The signal that this is one psalm also is seen in that Psalm 10 is one of only two psalms in Book 1 of the Psalter not to have a title (except for Psalms 1 & 2). It seems clear that the title of Psalm 9 extends through Psalm 10, and that these are really one psalm. A reading of the united psalm reveals many similar statements.
Second, Psalm 42-43. It is pretty clear that these were originally one psalm, as the Septuagint has it, for the refrain of Psalm 42 also closes Psalm 43. Once again, Psalm 43 is one of only two psalms in Book 2 that does not have a title, and it seems clear that the title of Psalm 42 extends to Psalm 43 as well.
About these two pairs of psalms this is really no question. All scholars affirm they each was originally one psalm. They were broken apart for liturgical reasons.
Two other pairs of psalms have a history of being regarded as one psalm. In each case, the second psalm has no title, and it seems clear that the title of the first psalm applies to it; that is, that the two were originally one. These are Psalms 32-33 and 70-71. Because there are no obvious structural factors linking these pairs, however, it is less apparent that they were originally one psalm each.
Psalm 33 is the only other psalm in Book 1 that has no title. In context, this stands out and alerts the reader that something may be going on. Of course, later in the psalter we find numerous untitled psalms, but not in Books 1 & 2. We naturally think that perhaps Psalm 33 is really the second part of Psalm 32. If we read the psalms together, they make sense as a unity. Moreover, Psalm 33 consists of 22 lines, and while it is not an abecedary, the 22 lines do point to the alphabet (the Hebrew alphabet). This might indicate a closed work, separate from Psalm 32, except that Psalm 32:8 says that God will instruct and show the way to go. This can be seen as setting up the alphabetical allusion that follows in Psalm 33. We do find in ancient sources that these were regarded as one psalm.
Psalm 70-71, again, displays no obvious literary unity, though they read together nicely. Psalm 70, however, is simply a restatement of Psalm 40:13-17. We may ask why such a repetition is found in the psalter. It makes sense if this repetition is the introduction to the untitled Psalm 71. Psalm 40 apparently was composed while David was still relatively young, while Psalm 70-71 was composed when he was old in years, possibly during the revolt of Absalom, which came late in his life and reign. So, David begins by citing something he wrote years earlier, and extends it to his new circumstances. Ancient tradition does unite these two psalms. (See G. H. Wilson, The Editing of the Hebrew Psalter. SBLDS 76 [Chico, CA: Scholars Press, 1985], p. 131).
Now, I think all four of these arguments are pretty sound, so that the number of psalms should be 146 rather than 150. With these condensations in place, all the psalms in Book 1 after Psalms 1 & 2 are titled, as are all the psalms in Book 2.
(Does this mean breaking them into two psalms each is wrong? Of course not. The Bible gives evidence of using portions of the psalms. Psalm 108 consists of 57:1-11 and 60:5-12. Thus, there is nothing wrong with using only parts of psalms in worship, or even recombining parts of psalms to make new hymns. Of course, it would be good in worship to use the broken psalms sometimes as unities, reciting Psalm 42-43 as one psalm, for instance.)
Now let us consider numerical structuring. We begin by noting that Books 3 & 4 of the psalter each contain 17 psalms. Seventeen is 10 + 7, and thus is a number of obvious import, communicating completeness and fullness.
Now, as it stands in our protestant Bibles, Book 1 of the Psalter consists of 41 psalms. We must subtract two, however, for the pairs Psalm 9-10 and Psalm 32-33, which leaves us with 39. Thirty-nine is 17 + 22. We have a 17, and also a 22 for the alphabet.
Book 2 of the Psalter in our protestant Bibles consists of 31 psalms (42-72), but again we must subtract two for Psalm 42-43 and Psalm 70-71. This leaves us with 29, which is 17 + 12.
Books 3 & 4 of the Psalter each contain 17 psalms, as we have noted already.
Book 5 of the Psalter consists of 44 psalms (107-150), which is twice 22. Within this book is the Great Hallel (120-136), which is 17 psalms. Psalm 119 consists of 22 sections for the letters of the alphabet; 22 psalmlets, if you will. This leaves Psalms 107-118, which is 12 psalms, and Psalms 137-150, which is 14 psalms.
Thus, numerologically we can set out the Canonical Psalter as follows:
Book 1: 17 + 22
Book 2: 17 + 12
Book 3: 17
Book 4: 17
Book 5: 17 + 12 + (22) + 7 + 7
While my research into this matter has not come to a stopping point, there are few other observations that may be worth sharing at this point.
Concerning Book 1: The first two psalms are untitled, and should be seen as an introduction to the whole Psalter as well as an introduction to Book 1. There follow 37 psalms of David. The center of these 37 psalms (Nos. 3-41) is Psalm 22, which pretty much summarizes Book 1.
I am inclined to see Book 1 as consisting of 17 + 22 psalms, in that order. The first 17 run from Psalm 1 to Psalm 18. (Remember: 9-10 are one psalm.) We then come to Psalm 19, which is a celebration of the Law of God, and thus would fit as the first of a set of 22.
Concerning Book 2: The first eight psalms are by Levitical poets: We have seven by the sons of Korah, with an eighth by Asaph, the leader of David’s Levitical singers. This 7+1 structure ties in with the sabbatical structures in the books of Moses, with an "eighth-day" climax, just as at the Feast of Booths.
The remaining 21 psalms are by kings. The first 20 are by David, while the last (Psalm 72) is given Solomon’s name. Whether Solomon wrote it, or David wrote it for him, it remains that in the sequence of Psalm titles we here move from David to Solomon. This is structurally very similar to the move from the sons of Korah to Asaph at the climax of the first part of Book 2. Indeed, the structure is chiastic: from Levitical sons to the Levite, and then from the King to the Kingly son.
Also note in Book 2 the numerology: priestly 7 + 1 and kingly 10 + 10 + 1. Thus, ten and seven show up again as important numbers.
The Davidic or kingly section of Book 2 is itself arranged chiastically. The first psalm, Psalm 51, is David’s prayer for forgiveness because of his sin with Bathsheba, a sin that threatened his dynasty. The last psalm, Psalm 72, is a prayer for the king’s son, providing the final answer to Psalm 51. Between these two psalms are two sections of Davidic psalms. Psalms 52-60 are called maskils and mikhtams, two words whose meaning we do not know. Psalms 61-70/71 have no such titles. Moreover, most of the psalm titles in the first group (52-60) contain specific statements of circumstances in which David was in trouble, usually with Saul. No such dire circumstances are spelled out in the titles in the second section of psalms.
The first section of ten Davidic psalms (51-60) begins with David’s sin (51) and then nine titled psalms. The second section of ten Davidic psalms (61-70/71) begins with nine psalms and ends with a "memorial" psalm (70/71). To all this is added a 21st psalm, for Solomon.
To make clear what I mean, here is how the nine titled psalms in the first section of David’s psalms looks:
52 – Maskil – Saul
53 – Maskil
54 – Maskil – Saul
55 – Maskil
56 – Mikhtam – Philistines
57 – Mikhtam – Saul
58 – Mikhtam
59 – Mikhtam – Saul
60 – Mikhtam – Wars
Notice that the psalm about conflict with the Philistines is at the center, flanked by two psalms about conflict with Saul on either side.
To summarize Book 2:
Priestly Section
7 of the sons of Korah (42/43-49)
1 of Asaph (50)
Kingly Section
1 dynastic psalm of David (51)
9 specific conflict psalms of David (52-60)
9 psalms of David (61-69)
1 memorial psalm of David (70/71)
1 dynastic psalm of/for Solomon (72)
Concerning Book 3: All but one of the 17 psalms of Book 3 are Levitical; the exception is Psalm 86, by David. The Levitical character of Book 3 has often suggested to commentators that possibly the five books of the Psalter are intended to connect in some general way with the first five books of the Bible. Book 3 would connect to Leviticus. Book 2, with its long section of prayers for deliverance from Pharaoh Saul, would connect with Exodus. It has always been difficult, however, to carry through these analogies consistently.
Concerning Book 4: Most of the 17 psalms of Book 4 are untitled. One is by Moses and two are by David. As Book 3 is Levitical, Book 4 is Kingly, so that Books 3 & 4 simply extend the outline of Book 2. Since I have prepared a long essay on Book 4 for issue 100 of Biblical Horizons , I shall say no more about it here.
Concerning Book 5: Book 5 was discussed at length in the previous issue of Rite Reasons (No. 53).
Psalm 112
Leader: Praise Yah!
Response: H�llelu-Yah!
‘Aleph is for blessing:
Blessed is the man who fears Yahweh.
Beth is for in:
In Whose commands he delights greatly.
Gimel is for might:
Mighty in the land will his seed be.
Daleth is for generations:
The generation of the upright will be blessed.
He is for wealth:
Wealth and riches are in his house.
Vav is for and:
And his righteousness endures forever.
Zayin is for dawning:
Light dawns in the darkness for the upright.
Heth is for grace:
Gracious and compassionate is a righteous man.
Teth is for goodness:
Good comes to a man who is gracious and lends.
Yodh points to the future:
He will conduct his affairs with justice.
Kaph is for certainty:
Certainly he will not be everlastingly shaken.
Lamedh points to purpose:
For a righteous man will be everlastingly remembered.
Mem is for news:
Bad news he will not fear.
Nun points to a state of being:
Steadfast is his heart, trusting in Yahweh.
Samekh is for security:
Secure is his heart; he will not fear.
`Ayin is for until:
Until he looks on his foes.
Pe is for scattering:
He scattered: He gave to the poor.
Tsaddeh is for righteousness:
His righteousness endures forever.
Qoph is for horn:
His horn will be exalted in honor.
Resh is for wickedness:
The wicked man will see and be angry.
Shin is for tooth:
His teeth he will gnash, and he will waste away.
Tav is for desire:
The desire of the wicked comes to nothing.
