MAY

MAY

MAY 1

Numbers 8; Psalm 44; Song of Songs 6; Hebrews 6

THE “APOSTASY” PASSAGE, Hebrews 6:4-6 (compare 10:26-31) has historically been the focus of considerable theological and pastoral dispute.

The nub of the question is, can genuine believers lose their salvation? Some Christians reply affirmatively, though it is hard to square such affirmations with, for instance, the “golden chain” of Romans 8:29-30 or the unqualified assertions of John 6:39-40, 44. Some Christians have therefore suggested that what Hebrews envisages is not falling away from eternal life but falling away from useful service. On the face of it, the language of Hebrews 6 and 10 is sterner than that. Others postulate that the warning is merely hypothetical or even beneficial—a means of grace that guarantees believers will not apostatize. But if we know that, it is difficult to take the warning seriously, for we are assured in advance that the set of apostates is an empty set—and that makes the warning slightly ludicrous and not the desperately serious thing that the author of Hebrews thinks it is. Still others argue that elsewhere the New Testament may teach the perseverance and the preservation of the saints, but here it presupposes that some will fall away—and we must simply live with the tension, not to say contradiction.

My own view is that the issue turns on two points, with an important pastoral implication. First, it is not as if Hebrews teaches one thing and Paul and John another. Paul entreats Christians to examine themselves to see if they are in the faith (2 Cor. 13:5), yet constructs the golden chain. John warns that branches in Christ (the true vine) may be cut off (John 15:1-8), yet insists that Christ will preserve all those the Father has given him. There is therefore nothing useful to be gained by pitting Hebrews 6 against, say, John. It aligns very well with one element in John and Paul. Second, one must ask if the individual descriptions (“enlightened,” “tasted of the heavenly gift,” etc.) in Hebrews 6 and 10 require us to think of genuine Christians. The answer to this question is tied to our theology of conversion and to what is meant by “genuine Christian.” The New Testament gives many instances of people who taste enough of God’s grace to turn their lives around and join the visible church, even though they do not have the kind of grace that enables them to persevere. Even Hebrews 3:6, 14 presupposes as much. Under such a “tight” definition of genuine Christian, none falls away. The question then becomes, “Will you persevere? Is your experience of grace so light that you can walk away from the cross?”

What are the pastoral implications? The reflections suggest that the Bible provides wonderful reassurance to the weak and fainthearted, but threatens the openly defiant with a stern probing of the genuineness of their profession of faith.

MAY 2

Numbers 9; Psalm 45; Song of Songs 7; Hebrews 7

IN VOLUME 1(MEDITATION FOR JANUARY 13), we reflected on the place of Melchizedek in Genesis and, by way of anticipation, in the rest of the canon. Here in Hebrews 7 we may reflect on Melchizedek again, this time looking backwards. I shall focus on some of the turning points in the line of thought in Hebrews 7:11-28.

(1) In the previous verses the author establishes that Melchizedek was greater than Abraham, and therefore greater than Abraham’s descendant Levi (since in Hebrew culture the father was always superior to the son). So historically the priest Melchizedek was greater than the priest Levi; in principle, then, the Melchizedekian priesthood, as an institution, is superior to the Levitical priesthood.

(2) When one reads the Old Testament documents sequentially, it is striking that, several centuries after the Mosaic Law that established the Levites as priests, God announces in Psalm 110 (Heb 5:6; 7:17, 21) that he is raising up a messianic figure who is a priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek, not Levi. (See vol. 1, meditation for June 17.)

(3) In principle, such a promise announces the obsolescence of the Levitical priesthood. It cannot last. In Psalm 110 God through David announces that the Levitical priesthood will be superseded by the Melchizedekian priesthood.

(4) That in turn means there must be a change in the law-covenant given at Sinai. We are sometimes tempted to think that the Law was primarily about “morality,” with a little bit of religious ceremony and some other things tacked on. If that were right, the law-covenant could remain largely intact when the priesthood changes. But that is not the argument of Hebrews. Here we are told that the Levitical priesthood, far from being tacked on, was the very basis of the Law (7:11). In other words, in certain respects the ceremonial functions of the Law lie at the heart of its covenantal structure. So with the coming of a non-Levitical priesthood, “there must also be a change of the law” (7:12; cf. 7:17-19), i.e., of the law-covenant. That in turn suggests that it was not the function of the Mosaic Law to establish a pattern of worship and a religious framework valid for God’s people for all time, but that the Law was part of a pattern that pointed forward to a still greater priest and to the ultimate covenant. Inevitably there are points of continuity between the Sinai covenant and the new covenant, but the fundamental change must be grasped to see how the Bible hangs together.

(5) That leads to the wonderful picture in this chapter of the perfection and finality of Jesus as Melchizedekian priest. Meditate on 7:23-25.

MAY 3

Numbers 10; Psalms 46—47; Song of Songs 8; Hebrews 8

SONG 7:9B—8:4 PICTURES RENEWED CONSUMMATION. The Song of Songs depicts several cycles of estrangement, pursuit, consummation. But in the closing verses (Song 8:5-14) the cycles are no longer in view. All the participants in the book—the woman (the beloved), her lover, the daughters of Jerusalem, King Solomon, the mother, the brothers—reappear, as the joy and commitments of the lovers are reaffirmed.

The “friends,” apparently the daughters of Jerusalem, ask the question, “Who is this coming up from the desert leaning on her lover?” (8:5a) The “leaning” is not because she is weak or ill, but is an index of intimacy. Probably there is a glance back at the theme of the country girl who has become the happy bride.

The Hebrew pronouns show that in the second half of verse 5 the bride herself, the beloved, speaks, addressing her lover. I know of no completely satisfactory explanation of 8:5b. Perhaps the woman is looking back to her first meeting with the one who would become her lover, and perhaps it was on the same spot where his mother conceived him and bore him. If so she is signaling a kind of familial link, an inter-generational connection. Couples may think they are the first to fall in love, but this woman is shrewd enough to grasp the cohesiveness of human love and life. For her, “love is as strong as death” (8:6). When death calls, none can stop it; when love calls, the same is true. In this light, “jealousy” (8:6) is not the green-eyed monster, but passionate, righteous claims of possession (as in Ex. 20:5). Genuine love can be neither quenched nor bought (8:7).

Commentators dispute who is speaking in 8:8-9, but it sounds like the brothers (cf. 1:6). The “little sister” of whom they speak is either the beloved herself, whom they do not consider ready for marriage, and to whom she gives a robust reply (8:10); or, more probably, the younger sister of the beloved and her brothers, who is not yet quite sexually mature. The point of their comment is then twofold: to hint at yet another oncoming generation that will fall in love, repeating the cycle all over again; and to serve as a foil to the maturity and delight of the beloved in her consummated relationship with her lover.

If the metaphorical value of “vineyard” persists (8:11-12; cf. 2:15), the beloved insists that Solomon may have a large harem, but the only one who can give away the beloved’s “vineyard” is the beloved herself. He cannot command her love, whether for himself (the thousand shekels) or for others (the two hundred shekels—the percentage of the profit of a vineyard shared by the laborers); she gives it. The closing verses are a reprise of consummated love.

MAY 4

Numbers 11; Psalm 48; Isaiah 1; Hebrews 9

THE OPENING VERSE OF ISAIAH 1 introduces the massive sweep of the book. It announces a vision that Isaiah saw, a vision that runs through the reigns of the four kings of Judah from King Uzziah on.

The first section (1:2-9) displays how far the nation has fallen. God himself raised up the nation of Israel (1:2)—indeed, he “reared” them, brought them up like children; and like rebellious children they have turned against him. An ox or a donkey knows more of its true home than Israel knows of hers. The heavens and earth are invited to listen in on the rebuke (1:2), both as a measure of the intensity of the rebellion and because there is a sense in which the well-being of the entire universe depends on whether God’s people obey or disobey his word. The description of the devastation in the land (1:5-9) is not metaphorical: probably what is being described is the bloody carnage that accompanied the invasion of Judah by Sennacherib’s Assyrian forces (701 B.C.)—a foretaste of judgment to come.

From here to the end of the chapter, the thought runs in three movements:

(1) Israel is excoriated for her corrupt and hypocritical worship (1:10-17). In dripping sarcasm, God addresses his covenant people as Sodom and Gomorrah. They maintain the stipulated sacrificial system and high feast days, but God insists he cannot bear their “evil assemblies” (1:13); he hates them (1:14). God will not even listen to his people when they pray (1:15), for oppression of the weak and corruption in the administration have reached such proportions that he must act in line with the Sinai covenant (Deut. 21:18-21). He can ignore these violations no longer.

(2) Nevertheless Israel is still being invited to forgiveness and cleansing: “‘Come now, let us reason together,’ says the LORD. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool’” (1:18-20). It is not cultic observance that triggers such forgiveness, but repentance: “If you are willing and obedient, you will eat the best from the land” (1:19). The alternative is judgment (1:20). Later in the book the basis for such forgiveness will be set forth; the devastating judgment of oppression and exile was not necessary, but so often we prefer sin to salvation, greed to grace.

(3) Yet Zion (representing the people of God) will one day “be redeemed with justice, her penitent ones with righteousness” (1:27). There is no final redemption that ignores justice and righteousness; only judgment awaits the impenitent (1:28, 31).

MAY 5

Numbers 12—13; Psalm 49; Isaiah 2; Hebrews 10

THE FIRST SECTION OF ISAIAH 2 (vv. 1-5) simultaneously looks backward and forward. The first line reminds the reader of 1:1. When the two introductions, 1:1 and 2:1, are taken together, we are afforded a comprehensive glimpse of this book. Much of it focuses on the days of Uzziah and the other kings mentioned in 1:1, but the vision is so comprehensive that it includes “the last days” (2:2). It deals with Judah and Jerusalem, but it anticipates the Zion that is to come.

These opening verses also link up with the blessings promised in the final verses of chapter 1. Now, however, the vision is openly eschatological. One holy mountain, the mountain of the Lord, will reign supreme. In one sense this vision is exclusive; in another, it is comprehensive, for “all nations will stream to it,” and “[m]any peoples” will say, “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD” (2:2, 3). In terms that have become proverbial in the English language, Isaiah depicts universal peace (2:4). Although he roundly denounces the injustice of his day, he never loses sight of the fact that our ultimate hope is not political reform but the final intervention of God.

These opening verses also point forward in the text. Before the “last days” of 2:2-5, the Lord has another “day” in store (2:6-22, especially 2:12). The prophet knows judgment is impending, for what is going on in the nation means God has already in some measure abandoned his people (2:6). They have adopted religious superstitions from the East, and they now practice divination like the Philistines (who lived in the West). In other words, they pursue idolatry wherever they can find it. Material blessings have made them unbearably arrogant (2:7-9). But when judgment falls, the “eyes of the arrogant man will be humbled and the pride of men brought low; the LORD alone will be exalted in that day” (2:11). Some will hide among rocks and caves, fleeing invaders whom God has brought on his people (2:10, 19-21; compare Rev. 6:12-17). When in “the splendor of his majesty” God “rises to shake the earth” (2:21), there is no place to hide.

How much more do large swaths of the confessing church in the West stand under similar judgment? “Their land is full of silver and gold; there is no end to their treasures” (2:7). But we are not a people characterized by great humility and zeal for the Lord’s glory. The solution is the same as in Isaiah’s day: “Stop trusting in man, who has but a breath in his nostrils. Of what account is he?” (2:22).

MAY 6

Numbers 14; Psalm 50; Isaiah 3—4; Hebrews 11

MOST OF ISAIAH 3—4 IS GIVEN OVER to specific judgment, in a kind of ABB’A’ construction (3:1—4:1), which is followed by glorious hope for the future (4:2-6).

At the core of the condemnation is the Lord as Judge, indicting “the elders and leaders [literally, ‘princes’] of his people” (3:13-15). Royal family and local leaders (“elders”) alike have descended to corruption and oppression. But the next two verses condemn the “women of Zion” as well (3:16-17). The men are condemned primarily for oppression, the women for their vanity and ostentation. Surrounding these verses are two longer sections unfolding what the men are being condemned for (3:1-12) and what the women’s judgment will be like (3:18—4:1).

God will bring siege and famine upon the people (3:1), resulting in the elimination of community leaders, whether by deportation or death (3:2-3). The entire society will break down, signaled not least by a desperate willingness to appoint almost anyone as leader (3:5). This vision was literally fulfilled a century and a half later (2 Kings 25:1-12), but there were adumbrations within Isaiah’s lifetime of what the judgment would be like: what Assyria began (Isa. 39:5-7), Babylon completed. For the culture was largely corrupt (3:8-11), the cause lying in the leadership, which was as weak as it was oppressive (3:12).

The siege will not be kind to the ostentatious women either (3:18—4:1). All their finery is to be snatched away (3:18-23). Instead of the delightful fragrances on which they have spent so much money, there will be stench. There will be disease (3:17a), sexual abuse (3:17b—the RSV is probably right: “the Lord will lay bare their secret parts,” i.e., subject them to the sexual assaults so common in war), and bereavement (3:25). Some will end up throwing themselves at any male available in the desperate hope for refuge and home (4:1)—but the slaughter of males will be so terrible that there will not be enough to go around.

Often in Old Testament prophecy there is a “foreshortening” of visions of the future that runs back and forth between the near future and something much farther away. If the day of the Lord brings horrendous judgment (3:6—4:1), it also brings glory (4:2-6). Later, “Branch” (4:2) will clearly be a way of referring to Messiah (11:1; 53:2; cf. Jer. 23:5; 33:15; Zech. 3:8; 6:12), but here it seems to refer to the people and purposes of God in glorious fruitfulness. In language that calls forth images of the Exodus, God promises to wash away the filth of his people and manifest his glory as a protective shield over them (4:4-6).

MAY 7

Numbers 15; Psalm 51; Isaiah 5; Hebrews 12

IT IS NEVER EASY TO GET ACROSS a message of impending judgment (Isa. 5)to people who are convinced they are not all that bad, especially when the ruling elite are enjoying good times. So Isaiah resorts to an attention-grabbing song. He picks up the ancient equivalent of a guitar and begins to sing a simple ballad about his true love. His audience is hooked—and then they cannot help but feel the hammer-blows.

In the ballad Isaiah begins by referring to God as “the one I love. . . . My loved one” (5:1). Because God has not yet been identified, doubtless the language instantly captures the audience. But it also reflects what Isaiah feels: he is not a dispassionate observer but a prophet deeply in love with the being and ways of the living God. Not to love him wholly is already part of the problem, whether under the old covenant or the new (cf. Rev. 2:1-7). Israel is often pictured as the Lord’s vine, so it will not be long before Isaiah’s hearers begin to get the point. Isaiah does not restrict himself to subtle allusions, however; he delivers both God’s threatening speech and his own explanation of his ballad-parable.

The people have produced only useless wild grapes, bad fruit. The nature of that fruit is described in the string of woes (5:8-25). In a nutshell, the social justice demanded by the covenant has been observed in the breach. Against the specific covenantal insistence that the land is the Lord’s and is to be parceled out fairly, land-grabbing has become the norm, squeezing out the little people (5:811). The wealth among the elite in Uzziah’s day has fueled wanton arrogance and drunkenness (5:11-12) and sneering defiance of God (5:18-19). Ultimately the land has overflowed with moral relativism and confusion, doubtless pitched as sophisticated thought, but actually nothing more than a commitment “to call evil good and good evil” (5:20). At bottom there is arrogance (5:21) and corruption in the administration and the courts (5:22-23). The Lord’s judgment is implacable (5:24-25).

None of this means that God is checkmated. In the final section of the chapter (5:26-30), God says what he will do. Punishment, the destruction of God’s “vineyard,” will come by foreign invasion—the metaphorical language of these verses is frankly terrifying. But the foreign invaders are not merely fortunate opportunists with a powerful army. God himself whistles them up, like someone calling for a dog. Despite the ruinous guilt of the people, Isaiah never doubts that God is sovereign over history and can dispose of nations in judgment as well as in mercy. That theme will grow stronger in this book.

MAY 8

Numbers 16; Psalms 52—54; Isaiah 6; Hebrews 13

PROBABLY ISAIAH’S VISION OF God and his commission (Isa. 6) took place at the beginning of his ministry, but it is reported only here, for thematic reasons. After the series of “woes” pronounced on the people, Isaiah pronounces one on himself (6:5), which shows that his stance as a prophet has never been self-righteous.

Moreover, the sequence of his own call—seeing God (6:1-4), deep awareness and confession of sin (6:5), cleansing (6:6-7) and commissioning (6:8-13)—is precisely the sequence that Israel must experience if they are to return to their proper role as servant of the living God. It is the sequence we must follow too. Moreover, several elements in Isaiah’s call are then picked up in the ensuing chapters (as we shall see), making this placement of the narrative of his vision of God highly strategic. Some notes:

(1) It was when King Uzziah died that Isaiah saw the Lord seated on a throne—as if the earthly king had to die before Isaiah could begin to grasp the awesomeness of the divine King.

(2) The seraphs, a high order of angelic beings, enhance the throne by their adoration and praise. God is the “thrice holy” God. In its core usage, “holy” is almost an adjective for God, and embraces both his transcendence and his righteousness (5:16).

(3) When the finite, the unclean, and the mortal comes into contact with the infinite, the pure, and the immortal, there must be, there ought to be, a profound sense of inadequacy. To begin to see God is to begin to see how awful and desperate our plight is. The holiness of God discloses our rebellious and dirty nature to us in a way that mutual comparisons among the members of the rebel race never can. Here Isaiah condemns himself, for in the presence of God degrees of sin seem superfluous.

(4) Only the cleansing provided by the altar that God himself has prescribed will suffice to take away Isaiah’s sin.

(5) For the first time in this vision, God speaks, and looks for volunteers (itself a gracious act of condescension). When Isaiah responds, it is less the cry of the hero than the petition of the pardoned. It is as if he is begging, “Here! Please! Will I do? Is there any way I can help? Will you please use me?”

(6) The substance of the commission Isaiah receives is to preach on until the irrevocable judgment falls. There is no prospect of revival. It is too late. The preaching will serve only to harden the people. The only hint of hope—a hint powerfully developed later in the book (11:1)—is that out of the stump of the destroyed nation new life will spring, and through this remnant the promised seed (6:13b).

MAY 9

Numbers 17—18; Psalm 55; Isaiah 7; James 1

THE INTERPRETATIONS OF ISAIAH 7 are legion. In my view only two are plausible.

The setting is clear enough (7:1-12). King Ahaz of Judah is terrified of the northern kingdom of Israel forming an alliance with Syria and destroying the southern kingdom. He is therefore unwilling to join them in their pact against the regional superpower, Assyria. In fact, he thinks that by becoming a vassal state of Assyria he might gain some security against the northern kingdom and Syria. The Lord tells Isaiah to take his son Shear-Jashub (which can mean either “a remnant shall return” or “a remnant shall repent”) and meet King Ahaz at the end of the aqueduct; apparently the king is inspecting the water supply in anticipation of a long siege. Isaiah has a radical alternative plan to propose from the Lord: trust no one but God, and God will protect Jerusalem and Judah. But under a pretense of piety Ahaz refuses to do this (7:12), and therefore judgment must follow: Judah will shortly be attacked and overrun by the very Assyria Ahaz courts for protection (7:17-20).

Uncertainty arises over the Immanuel prophecy. On one view, the end of Isaiah 6, which anticipates the rise of a righteous remnant, is tied to the name of Isaiah’s son: at least a remnant will repent, and Ahaz is invited to join that remnant. Zion, pictured as a young woman, gives birth to the faithful remnant who will emerge from her sufferings. This “son” is given the name “Immanuel” precisely because God is with us, the faithful remnant. Note the change from “your God” (7:11) to “my God” (7:13). Before this “son” reaches the age of moral discernment (not more than a few years), the land will have been devastated by Assyria (7:17)—for the Lord himself will whistle up the opponents. Even before this (7:16a), the lands of Israel and Syria will be laid waste. From the righteous remnant springs the Messiah—which is why Matthew 1:23 can apply Isaiah 7:14 to Jesus.

By the alternative view, Ahaz, despite his pious language (7:12), has utterly rejected the Lord’s demand that he trust the Lord and abandon any thought of an alliance with Assyria. So the “sign” promised in 7:13-14 is not a sign inviting repentance but a sign confirming divine condemnation (as in, e.g., Ex. 3:12; 1 Sam. 2:34; Isa. 37:30). Judging by the high expectations of verse 11, the sign must be spectacular, not merely a time-lag before a young woman becomes pregnant. Despite arguments to the contrary, the word rendered “virgin” really should be taken that way. In this light, the “Immanuel” prophecy really is messianic. The title, “God with us,” anticipates “mighty God” applied to the Davidic Messiah in Isaiah 9:2-7. His coming retrospectively confirms all the judgment that has been pronounced.

MAY 1 0

Numbers 19; Psalms 56—57; Isaiah 8:1—9:7; James 2

“FOR WE MAINTAIN THAT A MAN is justified by faith apart from observing the law” (Rom. 3:28). So writes the apostle Paul. “You foolish man,” argues James, “do you want evidence that faith without deeds is useless? . . . You see that a person is justified by what he does and not by faith alone. . . . As the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without deeds is dead” (James 2:14-26, especially vv. 20, 24, 26).

The formal contradiction between Paul and James is so striking that it has called forth relentless discussion across the centuries. Many contemporary critics, skeptical that God has really spoken in the Bible, think the passages are irreconcilable, and that together they demonstrate that from the beginning there were disparate branches of Christianity with distinctive and even mutually contradictory interpretations. Others think that the real secret to the relationship between Paul and James lies in very different meanings of “works” or “deeds.”

Several explanatory syntheses have been offered, but they cannot be evaluated here. It may be helpful, however, to reflect on the following points:

(a) Paul and James are facing very different problems. Paul is facing those who want to say that works, whether good or bad, make a fundamental contribution to whether one becomes a Christian (see one of his responses in Rom. 9:10-12). His answer is that they do not and cannot: God’s grace is received by faith alone. James is facing those who argue that saving faith is found even in those who simply affirm (for instance) that there is one God (James 2:19). His answer is that such faith is inadequate; genuine faith produces good works, or else it is dead faith.

(b) Issues of sequence are thus at stake. Paul argues that works cannot help a person become a Christian; James argues that good works must be displayed by the Christian. But on this point, Paul would not disagree; see, for instance, 1 Corinthians 6:9-11.

(c) Paul’s dominant usage of “justification” has to do with that act of God by which, on the basis of Christ’s work on the cross, he declares guilty sinners acquitted and just in his eyes. Such justification is entirely gracious (Rom. 3:20; Gal. 2:16). James focuses rather more on “justification” before peers (James 2:18) and even on final judgment. A genuinely Christian life, says James, must be a transformed life. Again, Paul does not disagree: “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad” (2 Cor. 5:10). The allotment of rewards may be of grace, for even our good deeds finally spring from God’s grace—but the deeds are not therefore less necessary.

MAY 1 1

Numbers 20; Psalms 58—59; Isaiah 9:8—10:4; James 3

ISAIAH 9:8—10:4 RETURNS TO THE theme of judgment, but this time it is directed not against the southern kingdom of Judah (as in 5:8-25) but against the northern kingdom of Israel (characterized as “Ephraim” and “Samaria,” 9:9). The passage is broken into four sections, each ending with the same refrain: “Yet for all this, his anger is not turned away, his hand is still upraised” (9:12, 17, 21; 10:4). This refrain answers the question, “What will God do with a people who will not seek him even in a situation of social collapse and threatening devastation?” These are already marks of God’s judgment on the nation, but still there is no sign of repentance. So what will God do? The answer is that, even though God’s judgment is gradually being ratcheted up, transparently it is not yet enough—so his anger is not turned away; his hand is still upraised. God has already sent a “message” against Jacob (9:8), but they have not attended to it; “the people have not returned to him who struck them, nor have they sought the LORD Almighty” (9:13). What is left is the “day of reckoning” (10:3).

There is another rough progression of thought running through the four sections. The first two sections tend to emphasize the moral decay: “everyone is ungodly and wicked, every mouth speaks vileness” (9:17). But wickedness burns and devours like a forest fire (9:18). Soon there is social disintegration and cultural collapse (9:20—10:4). Ultimately the Assyrians will obliterate the northern kingdom. (Syria fell to Assyria in 732 B.C., Israel in 722. Judah was devastated by Assyria in 701, but not totally destroyed; that awaited the Babylonians a century later.)

Once again this section of Isaiah, for all that it condemns the populace of the northern kingdom for their wanton sin and failure to heed God-given warnings, lays primary responsibility on the leaders. The Lord “will cut off from Israel both head and tail. . . . [T]he elders and prominent men are the head, the prophets who teach lies are the tail. Those who guide this people mislead them, and those who are guided are led astray” (9:14-16). “Woe to those who make unjust laws, to those who issue oppressive decrees, to deprive the poor of their rights and withhold justice from the oppressed of my people, making widows their prey and robbing the fatherless. What will you do on the day of reckoning, when disaster comes from afar? To whom will you run for help? Where will you leave your riches?” (10:1-3).

MAY 1 2

Numbers 21; Psalms 60—61; Isaiah 10:5-34; James 4

THE THRUST OF ISAIAH 10:5-34 is clear enough. At the beginning and the end (10:5-19, 28-34), the emphasis is on the fact that mighty Assyria will herself be crushed after God has used her to punish his own covenant people. In the central section (10:20-27), the people of God are encouraged neither to fear nor to rely on Assyria, but to rely on the Lord alone.

I shall begin with this central section (10:20-27). One of its great themes is “the remnant.” Judgment will fall, but the people of God will not be wiped out: there will be a remnant. This “remnant of Israel” (10:20) probably does not refer to the remnant from the northern kingdom of Israel, but to the remnant of Israelites from the south as well as the north (note the parallel “house of Jacob,” the common ancestor, and “remnant of Jacob,” 10:20, 21). “Destruction has been decreed, overwhelming and righteous” (10:22), against “the whole land” (10:23). But a remnant will return, not just to a place, but “to the Mighty God” (10:21). In the light of such promises, the people of the southern kingdom, God’s “people who live in Zion” (10:24), should not be afraid of the Assyrians, even though they are beaten by them. God’s wrath against Israel will end; indeed, it will in short order turn against the Assyrians themselves (10:25-27).

That brings us to the sections on either side of 10:20-27. At one level the theme is plain enough. The God who uses Assyria to punish his wayward covenant community nevertheless holds Assyria responsible for her own sins, and will ultimately destroy them. The empire that is nothing more than a battle ax in the hand of God, wielded against a rebellious nation (10:15), will itself ultimately be axed down by God (10:34). The pronouncement of this judgment is designed to foster faith and perseverance on the part of the remnant.

There is an important subsidiary theological theme in this chapter; the biblical tension between God’s sovereignty and human responsibility surfaces in powerful ways. God uses mighty Assyria as if it were nothing but a tool in his hands (10:5, 15). He himself dispatches Assyria to punish Israel (10:6). Assyria, of course, is totally unaware of God’s control. Nevertheless, she is held responsible for her own actions and attitudes, not least her arrogance and pride (10:7-11, 1314). So God will punish her (10:12). This tension between God’s sovereignty and human responsibility is not to be despised or rejected, but seized with gratitude, for it will preserve us both from denying the reality of evil and from imagining that evil could ultimately triumph. Meditate on Acts 2:23; 4:27-28.

MAY 1 3

Numbers 22; Psalms 62—63; Isaiah 11—12; James 5

ISAIAH 1—12 FORMS THE FIRST major division of the book; Isaiah 11—12 closes that division with a picture of the ideal king and the changes he will bring, with the Lord being praised in Zion.

There is a rapid move from the destruction of Assyria in Isaiah 10 to the establishment of the kingdom of God in Isaiah 11. The two are obviously connected theologically: it is God’s initiative that effects both. Nevertheless, there is in Isaiah’s prophecy a massive foreshortening of the historical process.

In the vision by which he was called to prophetic ministry, Isaiah saw a seed springing from the stump, the remnant of Israel (6:13). Now Assyria falls like a mighty forest before the ax of God (10:33-34)—and a shoot springs from the stump of Jesse (11:1), i.e., from the Davidic dynasty. If in 4:2 the Branch referred to the remnant, or to the Lord’s saving work through the remnant, here it explicitly refers to the Messiah. “Messiah” simply means “anointed one,” so every anointed king in the Davidic line was in this sense a “messiah.” But only the ultimate Messiah could fill the slot described here. Uniquely empowered by the Spirit of God (11:2-3a; cf. John 3:34), his rule is impeccably righteous (11:3b-5), the antithesis of the corruption in the nation that has attracted God’s judgment. So perfect and absolute will be Messiah’s rule that death and destruction will die: the ultimate state he introduces will be ideal (11:7-9).

Verses 10-16, the second part of chapter 11, unpack some of the symbolic elements of the preceding verses. God’s covenant people are regathered to him (11:11-16), but surrounding them are the nations who will also rally to him (11:10). The banner raised over this vast assembly (11:10, 12) marks Messiah’s rule, “and his place of rest will be glorious” (11:10). At one level, the “remnant” thus regathered refers to the survivors of historic Israel (11:12), but in the prophetic foreshortening they are also the generation of the elect and faithful people of God in the last days.

The praise of chapter 12 is directed toward “the Holy One of Israel,” one of Isaiah’s titles for God. In chapter 11 the Messiah is among his people and his reign has begun; in chapter 12 God is among his people and is praised. It is hard not to see that the presence of the Messiah and the presence of God are one and the same, just as in Isaiah 9:2-7 the Davidic king is also the mighty God. Here is the consummation of salvation. “The LORD, the LORD, is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation. With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation” (12:2-3).

MAY 1 4

Numbers 23; Psalms 64—65; Isaiah 13; 1 Peter 1

THE SECOND MAJOR SECTION OF Isaiah, chapters 13—27, focuses on the nations. This word of the Lord through Isaiah is not actually delivered to the nations; it is pronounced against the nations but in the ears of the people of Judah and Jerusalem. In a general sense the message is similar to that in the first part of Isaiah (chaps. 1—12): salvation belongs only to the Lord, so he alone is the One to be trusted. The denunciation of the nations therefore includes comforting asides to Judah (e.g., 14:1-2) and ends with the deliverance of the people of God (chaps.26—27).

Isaiah 13 is an oracle against Babylon. Because in Isaiah’s time the primary military threat was Assyria and not Babylon, many critics think that this chapter is a later interpolation, written a century and a half later (about 550 B.C.) when Babylon had not only risen to supremacy but was already in decline, threatened by the rising Medo-Persian Empire (see 13:17). But that view is too skeptical. The introduction to the oracle unambiguously affirms that Isaiah, son of Amoz, saw this vision (13:1). Moreover, Isaiah 39 shows that even in Isaiah’s day, though Babylon was not an immediate threat like Assyria, it was already a rising power. Perhaps more important yet, Babylon’s history went back all the way to the Tower of Babel (Gen. 10:9-10; 11:1-9) and thus could serve as a symbol of all nations that defy the God of Israel—a symbolism that persists even in the New Testament (e.g., Rev. 17—18), long after historic Babylon is in eclipse. The ultimate collapse of “Babylon” takes place when “Babylon the Great, the Mother of Prostitutes and of the Abominations of the Earth,” who is “drunk with the blood of the saints, the blood of those who bore testimony to Jesus” (Rev. 17:5-6), is obliterated in the triumphant dawning of the reign of the Lord God Almighty (Rev. 19:6), the rule of him who is called “Faithful and True” and whose name is “the Word of God” (Rev. 19:11, 13).

Note three features of this oracle. (a) Once again the “day of the LORD” (Isa.13:6) is bound up not only with the Lord’s coming, but with his coming in judgment. For those opposed to the living God, it is “a cruel day, with wrath and fierce anger” (13:9). (b) Typical of Hebrew poetry, this day is associated with celestial signs; it is as if all nature has to join in with these events, for their significance is no less than cosmic (13:10; cf. Acts 2:20). (c) The heart of the sin that must be overthrown is arrogance (13:11, 19).

MAY 1 5

Numbers 24; Psalms 66—67; Isaiah 14; 1 Peter 2

THE SHORT PARAGRAPH 1 PETER 2:13-17 is filled with moral admonitions found elsewhere in the New Testament. In today’s meditation I shall briefly clarify the main points and observe the supporting themes around the paragraph.

First, like Paul in Romans 13, Peter tells his readers to submit to every properly constituted human authority, and to do so “for the Lord’s sake” (2:13-14). Implicitly, Peter acknowledges that such human authorities were set up by God, and their proper function (or at least one of them) is to foster justice. Second, it is always God’s will that Christians by doing good “should silence the ignorant talk of foolish men” (2:15). Behavior stamped by courtesy, respect, and integrity is not itself preaching the Gospel, but it wins a hearing for the Gospel, simultaneously preparing a way for it and authorizing it. Third, our freedom from the law-covenant must never become an excuse for licentiousness: “live as servants of God” (2:16). Finally, it is always right and good to show proper respect to everyone. Everyone is made in the image of God. But what “proper” means may take on different overtones with different ranks: “Love the brotherhood of believers, fear God, honor the king” (2:17).

The surrounding verses provide support for this outlook. (a) Christians are “a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God,” their very existence designed to declare the praise of the One who called them “out of darkness and into his wonderful light” (2:9). The transformation of Christians’ conduct is the attestation that they really do belong to God (2:10, 25). (b) This also means that we no longer belong to the world. Here we live “as aliens and strangers” (2:11). If we do not think in those terms, but are frankly comfortable with the world and its ways, we ought to question whether or not we really belong to the “people belonging to God.” This is the assumption Peter makes when he writes, “Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits us” (2:12). (c) If any of this involves hardship or suffering—as it especially did in the case of slaves who belonged to cruel and unjust masters—we can never forget that we follow a Master who himself suffered most unjustly. No moral value attaches to suffering what we deserve; we show ourselves to be followers of Jesus Christ when we suffer unjustly and endure it faithfully. “To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you should follow in his steps” (2:21).

MAY 1 6

Numbers 25; Psalm 68; Isaiah 15; 1 Peter 3

ONE OF THE STRIKING THINGS ABOUT 1 Peter is how Christian conduct is tied to winning a hearing for the Gospel. We saw that theme in yesterday’s meditation. Christians are to live in such a way that even the pagans will be forced to glorify God (1 Pet. 2:12). It is God’s will “that by doing good you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish men” (2:15). The same theme is developed in chapter 3. Wives with unbelieving husbands should so adorn themselves with a gentle and quiet spirit that their husbands “may be won over without words by the behavior of their wives, when they see the purity and reverence of [their] lives” (3:2).

Similarly in 1 Peter 3:8-22. This passage includes one of the most difficult texts in the New Testament (3:18b-21), one I cannot hope to broach here. But it also once again connects Christian conduct with Christian suffering and therefore with Christian witness. This does not mean that Christian conduct has a merely utilitarian function. Christians are not to act in godly ways simply because it increases their credibility for propagandistic purposes. There are many reasons for doing good. We were “called” to it (3:9); doing good is constitutive of our very identity. Moreover, such behavior inherits blessing from God (3:9-12). Apart from the horrible exceptions that arise out of corrupt regimes and renegades (all too many of them), a citizen doing good does not have to fear oppression from those in charge of criminal justice systems (3:13). We ourselves ought to keep a clear conscience before the living God (3:16). Above all there is the example of Jesus Christ (3:17-18).

But in addition to all these reasons for living godly lives, Peter again connects conduct with witness. Even if we suffer unjustly, we will not live our lives in fear, as pagans must (3:13). Rather, in our tears we will “set apart Christ as Lord” (3:15); we will “sanctify” or “consecrate” Christ as Lord. And in this context, we will hear the apostolic injunction: “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have” (3:15). This is similar to Paul’s “be prepared in season and out of season” (2 Tim. 4:2). Of course such readiness presupposes a heart attitude eager to bear witness and a commitment to grow in apologetic competence. As in so many other areas of life, we learn best how to do it by doing it. But Peter’s immediate point is that as we bear witness, we must do so “with gentleness and respect . . . so that those who speak maliciously . . . may be ashamed of their slander” (3:15, 16).

MAY 1 7

Numbers 26; Psalm 69; Isaiah 16; 1 Peter 4

1 PETER 4 CONTINUES THE THEME of Christian conduct, including unjust suffering. This theme is now increasingly tied to identification with Christ (e.g., 4:14), to final judgment (4:5-6, 7, 17), and above all to the will of God: “So then, those who suffer according to God’s will should commit themselves to their faithful Creator and continue to do good” (4:19, italics added).

But what does it mean to “do good”? This is spelled out in part in 1 Peter 4:7-11:

(a) We must be “clear minded and self-controlled so that [we] can pray” (4:7). Self-control is an element of the fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22-23). Minds clouded by the heated pursuit of hedonism are not minds that can pray.

(b) We must “love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins” (4:8). Peter assumes, realistically, that various breaches will occur in the Christian assembly—just as they occur in a family. But in a mature family, the love of each family member for the others covers over the breaches. So also in the church. This does not mean that there are no sins to expose and discipline; the whole New Testament stands against such reductionism. On the other hand, we must face the fact that sins will be committed—and be prepared to cover them over with love. For there is no way back to the innocence of Eden—certainly not by probing each blemish and letting it all hang out, going over the same sins and failures again and again. There is no way back; there is only a way forward—through the cross, to forgiveness and forbearance. Christians must love each other deeply, “because love covers over a multitude of sins.” Mature Christians know their own hearts well enough to realize that they need such love and need to display it.

(c) We must “[o]ffer hospitality to one another without grumbling” (4:9). Loving has more to it than forbearing with another’s faults; it has more to it than positive activity such as showing hospitality: it includes how we show such hospitality—not in a grumbling or resentful fashion, but eagerly, graciously, generously.

(d) We must use whatever gifts we have received to serve others (4:10-11). Peter gives some examples, but his list is not exhaustive. If one is called to speak in the church (for example), it is not a time for showing off or for amusing the goats, but for feeding the sheep, and that means speaking “as one speaking the very words of God” (4:11). Meditate on Romans 12:6-8.

Everything is to be done in such a way “that in all things God may be praised through Jesus Christ” (4:11).

MAY 1 8

Numbers 27; Psalms 70—71; Isaiah 17—18; 1 Peter 5

IN CHAPTERS 14—16 ISAIAH records oracles against Philistia (to the west of Jerusalem) and against Moab (to the east). Now (Isaiah 17—18) he speaks against Syria to the north (with its capital Damascus) and Cush to the south. Ancient Cush was made up of modern Ethiopia, Sudan, and Somaliland, i.e., a large area south of the fourth cataract of the Nile River. By the late eighth century B.C., Cush had merged with Egypt, which is still in view in chapters 19—20. Indeed the twenty-fifth dynasty, which ruled this huge region, were Ethiopians.

Recall that the crisis King Ahaz of Judah faced in Isaiah 7 was an alliance between Syria and Israel, designed to thwart Assyria; Syria and Israel tried to force Judah to join their alliance. So this oracle is against Damascus (17:1) the capital of Syria, and includes Ephraim (17:3—another name for the northern kingdom of Israel). Syria and Israel, so threatening to Judah, would soon be destroyed by Assyria. Damascus fell in 732, Samaria ten years later. After their destruction they would be like an emaciated man (17:4), like a field after harvest with only a few stalks left (17:5), like a grove of olive trees in which the fruit has been plucked and beaten with only a few olives left (17:6). The ultimate cause of the destruction of these nations is their idolatry (17:7-8), bound up with fertility cults (17:10-11).

The means for destroying Syria and Israel is depicted in 17:12-18—almost certainly Assyria, which is in turn destroyed. Yet Isaiah speaks of “many nations” (17:12): once again we have stumbled across prophetic foreshortening, Assyria serving as a model both of all the means of temporal judgment that God uses, and of the fact that he brings all nations to account, even those his providence has deployed as the club of his wrath (cf. 10:5).

If there is no help for Judah and Jerusalem in the nations of Israel and Syria (and still less in Assyria), there is also no help in the other regional power, Egypt/Cush (chap. 18). Egypt sends its ambassadors to Judah (and doubtless to other minor states) to try to woo them into their camp (18:1). Isaiah speaks to them (18:2)—almost certainly he actually speaks to the king in a prophetic oracle about the ambassadors, rather than addressing them directly—and in brilliant rhetoric describes the destruction of their nation. Yet he also heralds a time when Egyptians, just one of the many “people of the world” (18:3), will see the banner the Lord raises and bring gifts to “Mount Zion, the place of the Name of the LORD Almighty” (18:7).

Why fawn over pagan nations (and thinkers!) when the Lord himself will judge them, and when they will one day bow to him?

MAY 1 9

Numbers 28; Psalm 72; Isaiah 19—20; 2 Peter 1

ISAIAH 19—20 CONTINUES THE prophecies regarding Egypt/Cush. Here I shall outline the flow of thought and then draw out an important lesson for the contemporary world.

Isaiah 19 is divided into two parts. The first is poetic in form (19:1-15) and pronounces judgment on Egypt. The details are not sufficiently specific for us to be certain which historical assault on Egypt is in view. Egypt was seized by Esarhaddon (671 B.C.), Ashurbanipal (667), Nebuchadnezzar (568), Cambyses (525), and Alexander the Great (332). Probably the “cruel master” or “fierce king” (19:4) is representative of all of them. The lesson for Isaiah’s fellow citizens is the one constantly repeated in this book: do not make alliances with foreign powers; trust God alone. When God acts against Egypt, her religion will not save her (19:1-4), nor will the Nile (normally her lifeblood, 19:5-10), nor her counselors (19:11-15).

The second part of Isaiah 19 is in prose (19:16-25). The words “in that day” recur (19:16, 18, 19, 23, 24)—a sign of the collapsing of the ultimate horizon, the final day of judgment, into the impending historical horizon, much closer to the prophet’s immediate context. Using the categories of the day, Isaiah depicts the time when all of Egypt—even a city like Heliopolis (19:18 fn.), formerly the center of the sun-god, Ra—will come under the reign of God. And not Egypt alone: other pagan powers, here represented by Assyria, will unite in common worship of Israel’s God, and there will be peace (compare 2:2-5). Here is another adumbration of gospel power that draws in men and women from “every tribe and language and people and nation” (Rev. 5:9), in line with God’s gracious promise to Abraham (Gen. 12:3b).

The setting of Isaiah 20 is more specific: the Egyptian-backed Philistine revolt against Assyria (713—711 B.C.; cf. 14:28-31). The passage predicts the destruction of Ashdod, a major city of Philistia. During these three years, Isaiah was told by God to be dressed (or undressed!) like a captive, “stripped and barefoot” (20:2), for at least part of each day, until Ashdod fell—and then he gave a stunning interpretation of his action: he was depicting the destruction and captive status, not of Philistia but of Egypt (20:4-6). The lesson is obvious: do not trust your future to Egypt; she is a broken reed.

One lesson to learn turns on the fact that this destruction of Egypt did not take place until forty years later (671). Often we demand immediate answers from God. But God took twelve years to bring down Hitler, seventy to bring down the Russian empire, two centuries to humble the British Empire. Reflect on the implications.

MAY 2 0

Numbers 29; Psalm 73; Isaiah 21; 2 Peter 2

IN 2 PETER 2:1-3, AND THROUGHOUT much of the rest of the chapter, Peter warns against false teachers.

(1) These false teachers emerge from within the believing community—in precisely the way that the most dangerous false prophets in Old Testament times were those who emerged from within the old covenant community (2:1). False teachers and false prophets are a lot easier to spot when they stand outside the fellowship of God’s people and criticize. A David Hume or a Bertrand Russell seduces far smaller numbers of God’s people than many popular “televangelists.” Even on a smaller scale, the most dangerous false teachers in a local church are those with either little biblical grasp or perverse biblical grasp who in the name of the Gospel twist the community into their particular mold. Expect such people. All of the Bible attests the frequency of their attacks and the tragic damage they cause.

(2) What they “secretly introduce” are “destructive heresies, even denying the sovereign Lord who bought them” (2:2). They never describe their teaching in such terms, of course, nor do they stand in the pulpit and say something like “I disown Jesus” or “I deny that Jesus fully redeemed me from my sin.” If they did, they would be turned out. Their approach is almost always to relativize Jesus, diminish his significance, or allow him to stand as part of the background noise while they direct the attention of believers to their own agenda—legalism, perhaps, or endless self-help, or sentimentalized therapy, or a Jesus who is no more than one of many options. Thus by their teaching they disown the Jesus whose death potentially embraced all, not least these false teachers who nominally submit to him but who in reality domesticate him or reinvent him.

(3) Very often these false teachers are popular (2:2). In fact, their popularity has two painful effects. In the eyes of many, it legitimizes these teachers—and then their ostensible legitimacy destroys the credibility of genuine Christianity, for their conduct brings “the way of truth into disrepute.”

(4) Quite commonly these false teachers “exploit you” (2:3). Sometimes this exploitation is blatantly fiscal: always watch where the money goes. At least as commonly it is manipulative: they shape your mind and direction by their fluent storytelling.

(5) God has the last word; the condemnation of these false teachers is inevitable (2:3). As the following verses (2:4-10) make clear, God is perfectly capable of saving the righteous remnant and of bringing these false teachers to condemnation.

For each of the preceding five points, think of two examples, one drawn from the Bible and one from Christian history, recent or otherwise.

MAY 2 1

Numbers 30; Psalm 74; Isaiah 22; 2 Peter 3

PETER URGES HIS READERS TO “wholesome thinking” (2 Peter 3, especially v. 1), in particular about the Lord’s return. This presupposes that unwholesome thinking about the Lord’s return was circulating. Today even more forms of unwholesome thinking about this event exist than in the first century. Peter stresses that:

(1) In every generation there will be scoffers who sneer at the notion of Christ’s return (3:3). Sometimes this scoffing will be grounded in a profoundly anti-Christian worldview. In our own day, philosophical naturalism obviously has no place for the ultimate supernatural visit to Planet Earth, nor even for an end of history brought about by God himself. The stance may be tied to some uniformitarian perspective (3:4). Never should we forget that such perspectives often have moral dimensions to them. It is so much more convenient, for those who cherish their own moral autonomy, to deny that there is a final accounting (3:3).

(2) We should never overlook the fact that God has not left himself without witness in this regard. Not only has he imposed massive judgments on powerful nations and empires (often by “natural” means), but two events in the record of the earth’s existence testify to God’s cataclysmic intervention: Creation, and the destruction of the Deluge (3:5-7). Here our society suppresses, for example, the extremely articulate forms of the argument from design: we “deliberately forget” what God has done. Our evaluation of these matters is tied to our moral and spiritual alienation from God our Maker.

(3) The delay before Christ’s return reflects not only God’s very different view of the pace of events (3:8), but his matchless forbearance: “He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance” (3:9). Paul says something similar: “Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness leads you toward repentance?” (Rom. 2:4).

(4) When Christ does return at the end, however, his return will be sudden, unmistakable, and cataclysmic (3:10). It will mark the end of the universe as we know it. During the 1950s, when residents of North America were sometimes asked to build nuclear bomb shelters to shield themselves from the holocaust that threatened, I asked my dad if we should build one. He quietly replied, “Why? When Jesus comes, the very elements will be destroyed [cf. 3:10, 12]. Be ready for him, and fear nothing else.”

(5) And that is the point. In light of all this, “what kind of people ought you to be? You ought to live holy and godly lives as you look forward to the day of God and speed its coming” (3:11-12). The test of eschatology is ethics.

MAY 2 2

Numbers 31; Psalms 75—76; Isaiah 23; 1 John 1

IN THIS SECTION OF ISAIAH’S PROPHECY (chaps. 13—27), the city-state of Tyre (Isaiah 23) is the last region to attract an oracle of God against it. If Babylon became proverbial for its imperial might and for its cultural and aesthetic achievements, Tyre was famous throughout the Mediterranean world for its wealth.

The historical setting of this oracle is reasonably clear. Babylon has recently been destroyed by the Assyrians (23:13)—a reference to either the attack of Sennacherib (710 B.C.) or the pillaging destruction under Sargon (689). This was before Babylon rose to become a superpower in its own right, one that would eventually destroy and replace Assyria. At this juncture in history, the recent destruction of Babylon serves as the model and threat of what will happen to Tyre.

Tyre made its money as the premier trading center of the Mediterranean world. The ships of Tarshish (Spain, at the other end of the Mediterranean) wail at the reports of Tyre’s destruction (23:1, 14). These reports reach Cyprus (23:1), just off the coast, and then Sidon (23:2-4). Egypt, the bread-basket of the Mediterranean, weeps because of the effect on her trade in grain (23:5). The fall of Tyre affected the Mediterranean the way the crash of Wall Street in 1929 affected the world.

Whatever the historical pressures that brought about Tyre’s destruction, Isaiah wants us to know that it was the Lord’s doing (23:8-12)—and it is he who restores the city-state again, even if all she does with her new lease on life is return to her old “prostitution” (23:15, 17). Yet her sin, finally, is not money, but pride: “The LORD Almighty planned it, to bring low the pride of all glory and to humble all who are renowned on the earth” (23:9). There is no necessary connection between wealth and pride (witness Job), but the link is frighteningly common. Great wealth often fosters a spirit of arrogant self-sufficiency. What steps should Christians in the relatively prosperous West take against this dreadful sin?

In the spirit of prophetic foreshortening, the last verses (23:17-18) dance from history to eschatology. Eventually the wealth of the earth, even if it is gathered by great commercial traders like Tyre, will all be set apart for the Lord: he is the One who gave it, and all things return to him. And all such wealth will go to “those who live before the LORD.” Here is another adumbration of a reconstituted universe, no longer crippled by all that is vile, where God’s people delight in him and his gifts forever.

MAY 2 3

Numbers 32; Psalm 77; Isaiah 24; 1 John 2

ISAIAH 24—27, WHICH CULMINATES the long section of chapters 13—27, is sometimes called “the Isaiah apocalypse.” Here Isaiah moves from oracles against particular nations to an apocalypse (an “unveiling”) regarding the entire world. The thought is not so much sequential or literalistic as a series of provocative images that tell their own story. Isaiah 24 primarily describes the devastation that must fall on the whole earth. This is followed by three chapters of songs and even feasting, joyously offered up to the Lord for the triumph that is finally and irrefragably his.

Most of chapter 24 is taken up with the sheer devastation of the final judgment, its thoroughness and terror. In a series of shocking images, cities lie desolate (24:10), vineyards are fruitless (24:13), terror and traps rise everywhere (24:18), and the whole earth is broken up while the heavens unleash cataclysmic floods (24:18-19)—or, alternatively, in a mix of metaphors, the earth withers under devastating drought (24:4). Yet there are two sub-themes that also capture the attention of the reader.

First: “The earth is defiled by its people; they have disobeyed the laws, violated the statutes, and broken the everlasting covenant. Therefore a curse consumes the earth; its people must bear their guilt” (24:5-6). Probably the reference to “covenant” has in view the covenant God established with Noah and his descendants after the Flood (Gen. 9:8-17), which echoes the structure of obligations coming from creation itself. If so, the “laws” and “statutes” that have been violated are the fundamental standards of right behavior implicit and sometimes stipulated in a universe where God is absolutely central and where human beings, God’s image-bearers, are rightly and lovingly related to him. The sad reality is that we have “broken the everlasting covenant” (24:5). Our horrible breach has attracted the righteous curse of God (24:6). The apocalyptic vision of final judgment in this chapter is the consequence.

Second: twice in this chapter the glory that accompanies judgment, or that awaits beyond it, breaks through the otherwise unrelenting gloom. In 24:14-16a, Isaiah pictures people coming from the west and the east, acclaiming the majesty of the Lord, raising their voices in joyous praise, singing from the ends of the earth, “Glory to the Righteous One”—which simultaneously signals that the judgment is over and that God has been righteous in dispensing it. The last verse in the chapter (v. 23) is like a prelude to the closing vision of the Bible. The ultimate glory of the new Jerusalem is so brilliant that no sun is needed: “the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp” (Rev. 21:23).

MAY 2 4

Numbers 33; Psalm 78:1-39; Isaiah 25; 1 John 3

ISAIAH 25 IS DIVIDED INTO three parts. In the center is a festive banquet (25:6-8). On either side is a song. The first is sung by a solitary singer, doubtless Isaiah himself (25:1-5); the second is a communal song of praise (25:9-12).

At the feast (25:6-8) the food is the finest, and free—“a feast of rich food for all peoples.” The “shroud” or “sheet” that “covers all nations” (25:7) is death itself, the result of the curse mentioned in the preceding chapter. This feast is a celebration because God “will swallow up death forever” (25:8). Indeed, all the results of the curse will be obliterated: “The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces” (25:8; compare Rev. 21). Indeed, the blessings depicted in this verse are secured by Jesus (see Luke 14:15-24), who vanquishes death (1 Cor. 15:25-26, 51-57; 2 Tim. 1:10). This feast is for “all peoples” (25:6)—another of the many Isaianic prefigurings of the universal application of the Gospel—yet they must come to “this mountain” (25:7); for salvation, as Jesus insists to the Samaritan woman, is “from the Jews” (John 4:22). When Isaiah adds that God will remove the disgrace of “his people” from all the earth, the reference is slightly ambiguous: this may be a reference to Israel, or it may be a reference to those drawn from “all peoples” who truly prove to be his people on the last day.

The song of the lone singer (25:1-5) abounds in exuberant praise to God because he is perfectly faithful. This faithfulness is demonstrated both in the devastating judgments he has brought about and in God’s perennial care for the poor and needy (25:4). In short, God is praised for the faithful justice of his judgments. The final communal song (25:9-12) finds God’s people collectively praising him: “Surely this is our God; we trusted in him, and he saved us.” (25:9). But here, too, the inverse activity of God is to be praised: God has brought judgment on those full of pride. Moab is singled out as an example of such waywardness. So at the end, there will be two communities: God’s people at the festal banquet where God himself is host and death is destroyed; and the utterly proud, who will not bend the knee but whom God brings down “to the very dust” (25:12). One commentator (Barry G. Webb) writes, “Either repentance will bring you to the feast or pride will keep you away, and the consequences will be unsullied joy or unspeakably terrible judgment. The alternatives which the Gospel sets before us are as stark as that.”

MAY 2 5

Numbers 34; Psalm 78:40-72; Isaiah 26; 1 John 4

IN HIS SONG OF PRAISE, ISAIAH celebrates the Lord’s impending triumph and demonstrates what it means to wait for him to act (Isaiah 26). The opening verses offer anticipatory praise (26:1-6), offered to the God who makes the ultimate Jerusalem the rampart of security (26:2) and preserves in peace the minds of all the individuals within it—all who trust in the living God (26:3-4).

Most of the chapter is devoted to reflections on what it means to wait for that ultimate triumph (26:7-21). “Yes, LORD,” Isaiah writes, “walking in the way of your laws, we wait for you; your name and renown are the desire of our hearts” (26:8). But while the righteous yearn for the living God (26:9a), the shocking reality is that the people who do not know him never learn anything from the grace that God shows them (26:9b-10). And so eventually the people of God cry out that God might come and impose his righteousness (26:11)—very much as in Revelation 6:10.

Meanwhile, the faithful remnant live with ambiguity and disappointment (26:12-18). Idolatry flourishes in the land where the living God established peace (26:12-13). The remnant remains faithful while the culture succumbs (26:13). What is described in the next verses is almost the cyclical pattern of Israel’s history. God responds to the infidelity with judgment. In due course he returns with grace, enlarges the nation, and extends his own glory. And yet, when all is said and done, what is the outcome? The nation is like a woman writhing in the pains of childbirth—and when she finally brings forth her offspring, all she has produced is wind (26:18). “We have not brought salvation to the earth; we have not given birth to people of the world” (26:18). Where is the great hope bound up with Israel’s identity, with the promise to the patriarch that in Israel’s seed all the nations of the earth would be blessed (Gen. 12)?

Yet the chapter ends with hope. There is even hope for those who have died during the wearisome cycles of frustration, failure, futility, and judgment: they neither waited nor died in vain, for they will rise from the dead and share in the joy of victory (26:19)—a promise of life briefly glimpsed in 25:8, demonstrated in the resurrection of Jesus, and ultimately fulfilled at the end (1 Cor. 15; 1 Thess. 4:13-18). Meanwhile, those who are still alive must wait in patience for the wrath of God to pass (26:20-21). More clearly than Isaiah, we know that “our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all” (2 Cor. 4:17-18; cf. Rom. 8:18).

MAY 2 6

Numbers 35; Psalm 79; Isaiah 27; 1 John 5

MOST PEOPLE WHO HAVE READ 1 John a few times know that John discusses a number of evidences (some commentators call them “tests” or “tests of life”) that clarify who truly is a Christian. Most people see three tests: (a) a test of truth, in particular the truth that Jesus is the Son of God; (b) a test of obedience, in particular obedience to the commands of Jesus; (c) a test of love, in particular love for our brothers and sisters. The danger lies in thinking that these “tests” somehow make independent contributions, as if a person might hope to pass two out of three. But toward the end of this epistle, not least in 1 John 5:1-5, these three tests come together in such a way that they are not independent at all. They all hang together.

This paragraph begins with the truth test, with the person “who believes that Jesus is the Christ” (5:1). That person is born of God—a point repeatedly reiterated in John’s writings. But everyone who is born of God will surely love others who have been born of God—spiritual siblings, as it were (5:1). Thus the truth test is linked, through the new birth, to the love test. How then do we know that we really do love the children of God? Well, first of all, by loving God himself, and then in consequence carrying out his commands (5:2). Indeed, it is ridiculous to claim to love God and not obey him. So obvious is this that one might go so far as to say that “love for God” is “to obey his commands” (5:3). Of course, John has already reminded his readers that one of Jesus’ central commands, his “new commandment,” is that his disciples love one another (2:3-11; 3:11-20; cf. John 13:34-35). Thus the love test is tied to the obedience test at several levels.

One must not think that Christianity is nothing more than tough-minded obedience. The truth is that Jesus’ commands “are not burdensome” (5:3), for in the new birth God has given us the power to perform what Jesus commands, the ability to overcome “the world” (5:4-5; cf. 2:15-17). Who, then, has this power to overcome the world? Those who are born again, those who have genuine faith, of course—and genuine faith is defined in terms of faith’s object, namely the truth that Jesus truly is the Son of God. Thus the test of obedience, and with it the test of love, is tied back to the truth test.

The glorious reality is that, in the Christian way, truth and ethics are tied together. Creedal confession and transformed living go hand in hand. Any other alternative is either superstition or humbug.

MAY 2 7

Numbers 36; Psalm 80; Isaiah 28; 2 John

EVEN A CURSORY READING OF 2 John shows that the background to this short epistle overlaps in some measure with the background to 1 John. In both epistles there is a truth question tied to the identity of Jesus Christ. “Many deceivers, who do not acknowledge Jesus Christ as coming in the flesh, have gone out into the world” (2 John 7). These particular deceivers denied “Jesus Christ as coming in the flesh”—which, interpreted paraphrastically, means they denied that Jesus was Christ come in the flesh. They introduced a hiatus between the flesh-and-blood Jesus and the “Christ” who came upon him. Thus they denied the essential oneness of Jesus Christ, the God/man, the one who was simultaneously Son of God and human being. There were many sad implications.

The reasons for this doctrinal aberration were bound up with widespread cultural pressures. Suffice it to say that these “deceivers,” these “errorists” (as some have called them), thought of themselves as advanced thinkers, as progressives. They did not see themselves as evaluating the Christian faith and choosing to deny certain cardinal truths, picking and choosing according to some obscure principle. Rather, they saw themselves as providing a true and progressive interpretation of the whole, over against the conservatives and traditionalists who really did not understand the culture. That is why John speaks of them, with heavy irony, as running ahead of the truth: “Anyone who runs ahead and does not continue in the teaching of Christ does not have God; whoever continues in the teaching has both the Father and the Son” (9). John’s stance is much like the old minister who hears some newfangled doctrine and opines,

You say I am not with it.

My friend, I do not doubt it.

But when I see what I’m not with,

I’d rather be without it.

The crucial issue, of course, is not whether one is “progressive” or not, or a “traditionalist” or not: one could be a progressive in a good or a bad sense, and a traditionalist in a good or a bad sense. Such labels, by themselves, are frequently manipulative and rarely add much clarity to complex matters. The real issue is whether or not one is holding to the apostolic Gospel, whether or not one is continuing in the teaching of Christ. That is the perennial test.

Which contemporary movements fail this test, either because they rush “ahead” of the Gospel in their drive to be contemporary or because they have become encrusted with traditions that domesticate the Gospel?

MAY 2 8

Deuteronomy 1; Psalms 81—82; Isaiah 29; 3 John

IN THE THIRD MAJOR SECTION of his book (chaps. 28—35), Isaiah focuses on the central issue that the Jerusalem monarch faces. Will the southern kingdom turn to Egypt as it seeks to withstand the aggression of Assyria, or will it trust the Lord? The nature of the crisis and the abysmal voices circulating in the court occupy chapters 28—29. Chapters 30—31 pronounce woes on all who rely on Egypt: in that direction lies only disaster. Chapters 32—33 depict the godly solution: trust the living God who reigns as King in the midst of his people. The last two chapters of the section, 34 and 35, display respectively the scorched earth of judgment that will result from trusting pagan nations, and the garden of delight that awaits those who trust the Lord.

Isaiah 29, then, is part of the description of the crisis. Jerusalem is addressed as “Ariel” (29:1, 2, 7). We know this stands for Jerusalem, because it is described as “the city where David settled” (29:1). The coinage is almost certainly Isaiah’s; there is no record of any earlier use of this word for Jerusalem. “Ariel” is a pun on “altar hearth”—the flat surface on the altar where the fire consumed the sacrifices (cf. Ezek. 43:15). God says he is going to “besiege Ariel,” which will be to him “like an altar hearth” (29:2): God will ignite the fires of judgment under Jerusalem.

The tragedy of the situation lies in the sheer blindness of the people. This is simultaneously their perversity and God’s judgment (29:9-10). No matter what God discloses through Isaiah, the people simply blank out when they hear his words. The truth they cannot fathom; they have no categories for it, for their hearts are far removed from God’s ways (29:13). For them, all that Isaiah says remains like words sealed up in a scroll they cannot read (29:11-12). Even their worship becomes little more than conformity to rules (29:13b). So when God does finally break through, it will be with “wonder upon wonder,” all designed to overthrow the pretensions of the “wise” and “intelligent” (29:14) who counsel the king to do what God forbids.

The ultimate fulfillment of this pattern takes place in gospel times. Paul understands perfectly well how the person without the Spirit of God finds the truth of the Gospel largely incoherent, how the “wise” and “intelligent” broach many schemes, none of them consistent with the Gospel (1 Cor. 1:18-31; 2:14). Here, too, God destroys the wisdom of the wise (1 Cor. 1:19; Isa. 29:14), for his own way is what none of the wise had foreseen: the sheer “foolishness” of the cross.

MAY 2 9

Deuteronomy 2; Psalms 83—84; Isaiah 30; Jude

ISAIAH 30—31 STAND TOGETHER AS A stern denunciation of all who pursue an alliance with Egypt. Both chapters open with formidable opposition to this alliance (30:1-5; 31:1-3). But Isaiah 30 concludes with the grace of God, while Isaiah 31 ends in a mighty call to repentance. Striking parallels emerge between Isaiah 30 and today’s second highlighted reading, Jude.

The first half of Isaiah 30 denounces the leaders in Judah who are aggressively pursuing the help of Egypt. Already their envoys have reached cities in Egypt’s Nile delta (30:4). Donkeys and camels, burdened with wealth to buy Egypt’s support, are crossing the Negev on their way south. From God’s perspective this proves that they are covenantally unfaithful. They are “obstinate children,” “deceitful children” (30:1, 9), literally “rebellious sons”—instead of being the faithful son God expected (Ex. 4:22-23). They are more like the proverbial “rebellious son” of Deuteronomy 21:18-21, utterly unteachable and finally to be condemned. And the reason is disheartening: they do not want to listen to revelation—whether the ancient covenantal stipulations that forbade any return to Egypt (Ex. 13:17; Deut. 17:16) or the visions of their contemporary prophets and seers (30:10). Their criterion for acceptable sermons is painfully simple: “Tell us pleasant things, prophesy illusions. Leave this way, get off this path, and stop confronting us with the Holy One of Israel” (30:10-11). That sounds desperately reminiscent of much of the quest for “spirituality” in our day, inside and outside the church, and for much of “therapeutic Christianity,” for much of ecumenical Christianity, for much of the health and wealth gospel. There are huge differences among these movements, of course, but what is characteristically missing in them is the powerful theme of impending judgment wherever there is no unqualified submission to God’s gracious revelation.

Our hope is the grace of God (30:17-33). He longs to be gracious to his people (30:18)—whether as their Teacher (30:18-22), the One who heals their land (30:23-26), or the Warrior who defends them (30:27-33). Here are the fundamental alternatives: grace (30:18) or Topheth (30:33), the fire pit that anticipates hell itself. Jude understands this. In his own day false teachers leading the people astray are “godless men . . . who suffer the punishment of eternal fire” (Jude 4, 7). By contrast, “To him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy—to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore!” (24-25).

MAY 3 0

Deuteronomy 3; Psalm 85; Isaiah 31; Revelation 1

ALTHOUGH ISAIAH 31 BEGINS ON a historical plane, as so often in this prophecy the text holds up a more distant horizon and a more extensive hope.

At one level Isaiah is still pronouncing divine woes on “those who go down to Egypt for help, who rely on horses, who trust in the multitude of their chariots . . . but do not look to the Holy One of Israel, or seek help from the LORD” (31:1). Isaiah resorts to sarcasm: God, too, “is wise and can bring disaster” (31:2). He resorts to metaphor: God can be likened to a lion perfectly able to fight (31:4), or to a flock of birds perfectly able to protect its own (31:5). That brings the reader to the pivotal verses of this chapter, the only ones written in prose: “Return to him you have so greatly revolted against, O Israelites. For in that day every one of you will reject the idols of silver and gold your sinful hands have made” (31:6-7).

There is no alternative to repentance, no other way to experience the blessing of the Lord. The nature of repentance in Scripture precludes the nonsense of partial repentance or contingent repentance. Genuine repentance does not turn from one sin while safeguarding others; partial repentance is as incongruous as partial pregnancy. Loyalty to God in selective areas is no longer loyalty, but treason. To repent of disloyalty in select areas, while preferring disloyalty in others, is no repentance at all. God does not ask us to give up this or that idol while permitting us to nurture several others; he demands, rather, that we abandon idolatry itself and return to the God against whom we have “so greatly revolted.” For God is more than able to defend his people against the might of Assyria, to unleash a sword “not of mortals” (31:8). The literal fulfillment of this promise is 37:36 (see meditation for June 5).

Yet the hints of a still greater deliverance in the more distant future are not hard to find. Once again Isaiah predicts what will happen “in that day” (31:7), that pregnant expression that so commonly signals prophetic foreshortening. Although the loss of almost two hundred thousand Assyrian troops, referred to in 37:38, occurred in 701 B.C., the final collapse of Assyria and its capital Nineveh, described in the closing verses of this chapter, would not take place for another century (612). Moreover, references to the fire of God in Zion (31:9) call to mind 4:2-6 and 29:5-8—visions of the destruction of all of Zion’s foes and of the Lord’s future reign.

MAY 3 1

Deuteronomy 4; Psalms 86—87; Isaiah 32; Revelation 2

IF ISAIAH 30—31 EXPOSE THE PROBLEM and the dangers of relying on Egypt, Isaiah 32—33 provide the alternative: a good government led by a righteous King. Although Isaiah expects such government to dawn only in the future (e.g., 32:1, 15-16; 33:5-6, 17-22), his stance is not wholly eschatological: he is addressing the crisis of his own day, a day of complacency (32:9-11), when the diplomats have failed and the leaders are desperate (33:7-8), a day when the arrogant Assyrians, “those people of an obscure speech” (33:19), are still in the land. Historically, this probably refers to King Hezekiah’s futile attempt to buy off Sennacherib with extraordinary tribute (2 Kings 18:13-16). But Sennacherib is not appeased. His envoys “with their strange, incomprehensible tongue” (33:19) demand that Hezekiah throw open the gates of Jerusalem. When Hezekiah refuses, the siege begins. Now the people of Jerusalem can see the consequences of a government that follows nothing but the empty futility of merely human wisdom. Isaiah offers the only alternative: the kingship of God. Happily, Hezekiah seizes this alternative in the nick of time (2 Kings 19:14-19). But what Isaiah looks for is the time when God’s kingship is fully accepted by people and rulers alike.

Isaiah 32, then, begins this vision by showing what such divine government looks like, what it would produce (32:1-8). The identity of this king who reigns in righteousness (32:1) is not as clear as in 11:1-9 (where he is the Messiah) or as in 33:22 (where he is the LORD). From the Christian’s perspective, there is no tension in these dual claims: the ultimate King is simultaneously the Anointed One from the line of David and the living God (as in Isa. 9 and Ezek. 34). Here (Isa. 32), the focus is less on the king’s identity than on his passion for righteousness. The transformation of the realm is so complete that “the eyes of those who see will no longer be closed, and the ears of those who hear will listen” (32:3)—the reverse of 6:9-10.

But at this juncture there is no way to reach such glory except through judgment. Only a year will slip by before a crushing destruction of the harvest (32:10)—probably when Sennacherib moves in his mighty army after the extravagant tribute fails to placate him. Worse, the city itself will be destroyed (32:14)—an event still a century off. But beyond all that is the pouring out of the Spirit (32:15-20)—God’s doing, powerfully transforming the people of God—effected at Pentecost in the wake of the resurrection and exaltation of Jesus the Messiah (Acts 2:16-18) and consummated at his return (Rev. 11:15-17).

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