2:10–11 Which Celestial Beings?

2:10–11 Which Celestial Beings?

Since 1 Timothy 2:13 begins with the connective particle “for … ,” it is clear that the following sentences are a continuation of what precedes. Thus this text gives Paul’s biblical reflections that provide a rationale for his prohibition against women’s teaching and usurping authority in the church (1 Tim 2:11–12), discussed in the previous chapter.

The conclusion of that discussion was that Paul was addressing problems of heresy in the church at Ephesus and that the women in this congregation were strongly captivated by these false doctrines or were vocal proponents. Their teaching led to the questioning and rejection of culturally accepted norms and roles for men and women, causing difficulties for this young congregation within its social context. Paul is concerned that their witness to the truth of the gospel is thereby undermined. He is

concerned with “propriety” (1 Tim 2:9, 15), that is, socially acceptable behavior; with the possibility of being “disgraced” in the sight of outsiders (1 Tim 3:7); and with giving “the enemy no opportunity for slander” (1 Tim 5:14; 6:1).

Paul’s restrictive admonitions regarding women must be understood within this particular historical situation. They are therefore not to be understood as divine imperatives, applicable universally to all women in all cultural contexts and historical circumstances. Rather, they are authoritative apostolic counsel, given for the correction of abuses in a particular situation that threatened the truth of the gospel and the viability of a young church in an antagonistic environment. The transcendent principle standing behind Paul’s particular instructions is the imperative of the gospel (applicable in all cultural contexts), namely, God’s intention that “all be saved” (1 Tim 2:4; see also 1 Cor 10:33).

Insofar as specific expressions of their new freedom in Christ resulted in the undermining of social conventions (as in rejection of marriage and domestic responsibilities), the undermining of truth (as in teaching of false doctrines) and a domineering presence (as in usurping authority from the designated leaders of the church), women were threatening the church’s credibility and therefore its missionary effectiveness. That is the reason Paul imposes limits.

But why does Paul ground all this in Scripture? Why argue for priority for the male on the basis of Genesis 2? Why does he reason from the woman’s participation in the Fall (Gen 3) to a restricted role for her in the church? And finally, what is the point about women being saved through childbearing?

Answers to those questions begin to emerge when we recognize an essential truth of Paul’s life: He was a rabbi who had been transformed into a follower of Christ. As a trained rabbi he became a disciple of Jesus and an apostle to the Gentiles. His training as a rabbi—gained as a student of Gamaliel, one of the great rabbinic teachers in first-century Palestine (Acts 22:3)—was placed at the service of the interpretation and articulation of the gospel. Thus Paul’s writings are thoroughly pervaded by scriptural citations or allusions.

One of the chief functions of the rabbinic tradition was to respond to the broad range of concerns within the community of faith, from the most minute aspects of everyday life to the deepest theological issues. Over hundreds of years of such rabbinic reflection on the biblical text (our Old Testament), a massive body of biblical interpretations accumulated. Some of this material is reflected in the Jewish intertestamental literature, including the Apocrypha, a group of writings that was part of the Greek Old Testament read by the early church. Paul was heir to that tradition.

At critical points, where the essence and integrity of the gospel was at stake, Paul uncompromisingly broke with that tradition, as his Lord had done during his earthly life.5 [5 Examples are (1) Jesus’ rejection of rabbinic regulations regarding sabbath observance—which were based on the fourth commandment (Ex 20:8–11)—by focusing on the heart of God’s compassion for broken humanity (Mk 3:1–6; Jn 5:2–18) and (2) Paul’s rejection of Jewish Christians’ attempt to impose ritual requirements, such as circumcision, on Gentile converts, by affirming that salvation is purely by God’s grace and the response of faith (Gal 2:11–16).] But in matters that were not at the heart of the gospel, or when he gave instructions for particular situations, he sometimes used interpretations of Old Testament texts that were familiar to him from that tradition.

When we read 1 Timothy 2:13–14, we realize two things immediately. First, Paul does

not quote the biblical passages directly. He gives us rather a particular and partial understanding of the meaning of those passages. Second, the situation which he is addressing is a limited, local situation that calls for a limited, partial use of the biblical material.

The reason he instructs women to be silent, not to teach and not to usurp authority over men (1 Tim 2:12) is because Adam was formed before Eve (1 Tim 2:13). The Genesis 2 creation narrative is of course referred to here. Within the synagogue, which provided a model for early church life and structure, male dominance was traditionally certified by a reading of the chronological sequence of Genesis 2 in terms of male priority.

It is clear that Paul does not intend this interpretation of Genesis 2—which he uses here to give authority to his instructions—to be applied universally. For in 1

Corinthians 11, where Paul argues for women’s head covering, also on the basis of the chronological sequence in Genesis 2 (1 Cor 11:8–9), he then goes on to admonish his readers that the origin of both male and female is in God, and that since the creation every male emerges from, and is therefore preceded by, a female (1 Cor 11:12). In this argument, Paul goes beyond the traditional rabbinic interpretation based on chronological priority to the heart of the Genesis 2 narrative. For its focus is on the fact that the male, in his chronological priority, is pronounced as “not good” (Gen 2:18). It is the creation of the female as one “corresponding to him” that saves the male from his aloneness.6 [6 See note 1 in comment on 1 timothy 2:11–12, where the meanings of the significant Hebrew words in this verse are discussed.]

Thus a traditional interpretation of Genesis 2 is addressed to a specific, limited situation. And it is authoritative primarily for that situation. If women were creating havoc in the congregation by rejecting socially accepted roles and were grasping for authority, especially those who were peddling heretical teachings, then it was natural for Paul to emphasize biblical texts and interpretations that affirmed culturally and religiously accepted views of female roles.

A further argument for women’s restricted place, given in 1 Timothy 2:14, is that Eve was deceived and became a sinner, while Adam was not deceived. Here, as in the appeal to Genesis 2 above, Paul refers to a truth expressed in Genesis, this time in the story of the Fall in Genesis 3. In Genesis 3:13, Eve says that “the serpent deceived me, and I ate.” From this the rabbinic tradition reasoned that women were by nature more vulnerable to deception than men. That view of womanhood was widespread in Judaism. Philo, the important Alexandrian Jewish scholar who was a contemporary of Paul, expressed the view that since woman “is more accustomed to be deceived than man” and “gives way and is taken in by plausible falsehoods which resemble the truth,”

the proper relation of a wife to a husband is epitomized in the verb “to serve as a slave.”7 [7 Philo Questions on Genesis 1.33 (Loeb Classical Library).] In the apocryphal work The Wisdom of Ben Sirach (25:24), the author concludes that “from a woman sin had its beginning and because of her we all die.”

Yet, side by side with this emphasis in Jewish tradition was the acknowledgment of Adam’s full responsibility. In 2 Esdras 7:118 there is the lament “O Adam, what have you done? For though it was you who sinned, the fall was not yours alone.” Paul also knew this part of the tradition, for in Romans 5:12–14 and 1 Corinthians 15:21–22 he makes Adam, rather than Eve, responsible for the entrance of sin. The basis for this emphasis in the interpretation is of course material from Genesis 3, where Adam is

with Eve at the fateful moment (Gen 3:6), where God holds him responsible for reaching beyond his limits (Gen 3:11), and where he was deceived, just like Eve, into transgressing God’s command (Gen 3:17).

In light of the above data from both Genesis 3 and other Pauline texts, the phrase in 1

Timothy 2:14 “Adam was not deceived” is particularly problematic. For it is clear that he was in fact deceived, just like Eve. Some interpreters have concluded that Paul has here simply reverted to the dominant rabbinic interpretation that focuses on the woman’s deception, letting man off the hook. But that is pitting Paul the rabbi against Paul the Christian; I do not think this is either legitimate or necessary.

Paul is always the rabbi who has been baptized into Christ. And in his fellowship with Christ his rabbinic learning is also baptized. As such, it is placed into the service of his missionary work. And this work of the gospel determines the use he makes of rabbinic interpretations of Old Testament material.

His interpretive method and its application in the particular situation at Ephesus does not mean that he shared with his rabbinic tradition the view that women were inherently more deceivable. This is confirmed by the fact that Paul uses Eve’s deception in 2 Corinthians 11:3–4 as an illustration of the possibility that all believers in Corinth, both men and women, may be deceived and led away from faith in Christ.

Thus we see that Paul uses the Eve tradition variously, depending on the problem being addressed.

Once again, it is apparent that the needs of the situation in Ephesus dictated Paul’s use of various aspects of the scriptural tradition which, on the whole, was considered authoritative. Since women in Timothy’s congregation seem to have been prominent among those who “have wandered away” from the faith and its appropriate expression in life (1 Tim 1:3–7), or those who “have in fact already turned away to follow Satan”

(1 Tim 5:15), or those “who are loaded down with sins and swayed by all kinds of evil desires” (2 Tim 3:6), Paul’s partial use of the Genesis material and its application to this particular situation is quite understandable.

A final difficulty of this text is the statement that “women will be saved through childbearing” (1 Tim 2:15).8 [8 The NIV correctly indicates in a footnote that the Greek text reads: “She will be saved through childbearing.” In the previous verse the subject is Eve, the singular, representative of womanhood. That singular subject determines the personal pronoun of 1 Timothy 2:15, “but she will be saved.” However, the sentence goes on in the plural, “if they continue in faith.” It is thus clear that Paul sees Eve as representing all women.] What is the meaning of this statement, and how does it function in the context of the whole passage?

First, if there is one truth which Paul spent his entire ministry driving home to his listeners and readers, it is this: that salvation is not gained by the performance of functions and duties or the exercise of specific roles, but by faith in Jesus Christ. It is therefore impossible to conclude that Paul is speaking about personal salvation. That is, women are not saved by any other means than men.

Second, 1 Timothy 2:15 is the conclusion to the entire paragraph. In 1 Timothy 2:9–14

the specific instructions to women are restrictive and negative. Verse 15 begins with the word “but” (or, better, “yet”), and what is said is apparently intended as a positive affirmation. The various restrictions imposed on women are now qualified. They are not absolute norms, essential conditions determined by gender. Rather, they are necessary adjustments in light of the historical situation in which the missionary effectiveness of the young churches was at stake.

In Timothy’s situation, heretical teaching undermined the validity of marriage. We are not told why. But on the basis of 1 Corinthians 7, where marriage seems to be rejected by the superspiritualists who despise physical, bodily reality, we can conclude that the heretical teaching viewed marriage, and its specific expression in the bearing of children, as negative, or as unworthy of those who were truly spiritual and members of a new community of “saved” persons. Over against that heretical teaching, Paul may be affirming that the bearing of children, which is a woman’s natural procreative, life-giving function, does in fact not keep her from full participation in the community of the saved.

Thus women are and will be saved, even as they perform those domestic and maternal roles expected of women in the social-historical context, but rejected by the heretical teachers. It is possible that the heretical teachers and the women who had been deceived by them saw a rejection of normal domestic and maternal roles as evidence that they were truly saved and spiritual. Such a situation makes Paul’s strong and difficult restrictive injunctions to the women in Ephesus absolutely necessary, for the heretical teaching and its consequences represented a comprehensive misunderstanding and denial of the gospel.

5:8 Worse Than an Unbeliever?

The point of 1 Timothy 5:8 is rather clear. Failure to care for the needs of particular individuals is tantamount to rejection of one’s faith. And a person of faith who acts in such a way as to deny that faith in practice is worse than those who never profess faith in the first place.

What creates difficulties for us is the rigorous tone of this instruction and the finality that seems to be attached to one’s failure in following the instruction. A related difficulty—in light of Paul’s insistence that salvation is by faith and not by works—is the close connection in this text between a very particular action and one’s faith, and therefore one’s salvation.

A careful look at Paul’s argument in its larger context and within his thinking about faith and its fruits should alleviate the difficulties.

Our verse is part of a longer passage (1 Tim 5:3–16) in which Paul is concerned about the place and care of widows in the church. In the ancient world, partially due to patriarchal family and social structures, widows were often among the most weak and vulnerable members of society. It is clear from the Old Testament that God has a special concern for the least, the little ones, the oppressed, the powerless. And that concern includes widows (Deut 10:18; 24:17; Ps 68:5; Is 1:17). From Luke’s account of the ministry of Jesus and the early church (Lk 7:11–15; 18:2–8; 21:1–4; Acts 6:1; 9:39), we see that concern for widows naturally continued in the “new Israel,” that the Christian community saw care for widows as a special responsibility, and that groups of widows in the churches were particularly involved in good deeds of charity for others in need.

The larger passage, of which this text is a part, reveals this abiding concern for widows. It also shows that particular circumstances called for greater clarity regarding the church’s responsibility in this area. Paul distinguishes between “widows who are really in need” (1 Tim 5:3) and those who have family able to care for them (1 Tim

5:4). Given the fact that the early churches, on the whole, were constituted of people who were from the lower socioeconomic strata (see 1 Cor 1:26–28), their economic resources cannot have been extensive. Thus the need arose to channel limited resources to meet the most urgent situations of deprivation. It may even be that the church’s compassion for widows was expressed so consistently that charity became something to be expected, even when there was no real need.

In any case, Paul’s instruction is that the primary responsibility for the care of widows rests on members of the immediate family (children or grandchildren, 1 Tim 5:4). Only when that assistance is not available, when the widow is “left all alone” (1 Tim 5:5), does the larger community become responsible.

Paul grounds that instruction in two ways. Such action is, first of all, “pleasing to God”

(1 Tim 5:4). The imperative to care for parents was derived in Judaism from the fifth commandment (“Honor your father and your mother,” Ex 20:12), and obedience to the commandment was understood to bring with it God’s blessing. Second, Paul grounds his instruction in a truth stated over and over in the Word of God; namely, that one’s faith, one’s beliefs, must find expression in concrete action and relationships. Thus, following a harsh rebuke against the emptiness and shallowness of Israel’s worship (Is 1:10–16), Isaiah calls on the people to “seek justice, encourage the oppressed. Defend the cause of the fatherless, plead the case for the widow” (Is 1:17). A right relationship with God is expressed in the doing of justice, the loving of kindness (Mic 6:6) and the demonstration of steadfast love (Hos 6:6). The truest expression of the worship of God is when God’s people are involved in letting “justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!” (Amos 5:24).

This central Old Testament conviction is also at the heart of the message of Jesus and his followers. We shall be known by the fruit we bear (Mt 7:16, 20) and thus bring glory to God (Jn 15:8). The world will know that we are Jesus’ disciples if we genuinely love one another (Jn 13:35). If God’s forgiving, reconciling work does not find expression in our relationships, then our worship of God is empty (Mt 5:23–24).

The fruit of the Spirit in us, says Paul, expresses itself in kindness and the practice of goodness (Gal 5:22). New life in Christ (Col 3:1–3) is to express itself in a life clothed with compassion and kindness (Col 3:12). Faith that is not evidenced in deeds is judged to be dead, inauthentic faith (Jas 2:14–17). Religion that is “pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress” (Jas 1:27).

Within this larger New Testament perspective, Paul’s directive for the care of widowed mothers or grandmothers by children or grandchildren must be understood.

They should “learn first of all to put their religion into practice by caring for their own family” (1 Tim 5:4). The reality of our relationship with God most naturally flows over into our human relationships. And the members of our immediate families are the first ones to feel the impact of our relationship with God. The expression “Charity begins at home” is rooted in the conviction that if love of neighbor does not express itself concretely in our closest relationships, then our claim to love God (“our religion”) is a lie (1 Jn 4:19–21).

This is why Paul judges a person who does not provide for family members to have

“denied the faith” and to be “worse than an unbeliever” (1 Tim 5:8). Though this judgment seems harsh in relation to this particular failure in practical Christian behavior, Paul’s concern throughout the letter that Christian life be above reproach from outsiders (1 Tim 2:2; 3:1–7; 5:14; 6:1) helps us to understand his strong word.

The phrase “to be worse than an unbeliever” implies that even unbelievers are expected to care for those of their own households. Believers who neglect this responsibility are thus acting “worse than” unbelievers. Whenever that happens (see also 1 Cor 5:1–2), the church is not being God’s alternative community in a broken, fragmented world.

And such a life in the world represents a denial of the faith.

See also comment on james 2:24; 2 peter 2:20.

5:23 Wine for the Stomach?

In the context of a society in which the abuse of alcohol is such a serious problem, this piece of personal advice from Paul to Timothy raises for many the question of the legitimacy of the use of alcohol. Since alcohol is so easily abused, and since its abuse leads to the enslavement of people to addiction, should not Christians be encouraged to abstain from any use of it? This latter, prohibitionist view is expressed in a somewhat humorous anecdote from a discussion of this issue among a group of deacons. To the factual affirmation by one deacon that Jesus had turned water into wine at the wedding at Cana (Jn 2), another deacon replied, “Yes, he did, but he shouldn’t have!” When the basic premise is the conviction that any use of alcohol is wrong, then Jesus’ action and Paul’s admonition become problematic.

Paul’s word must be understood in the context of other advice in the correspondence with Timothy and Titus. It also must be seen as a sound piece of advice in the cultural context and as an expression of a central biblical principle for Christian living.

Earlier in 1 Timothy, Paul had listed among the characteristics of those who would be leaders in the church that they be “not given to drunkenness” (1 Tim 3:3) or “not indulging in much wine”(1 Tim 3:8). In advice to Titus, elders need to be examples who are “not given to drunkenness” (Tit 1:7), and the elder women in the church are to be taught not to be “addicted to much wine” (literally, “slaves to wine,” Tit 2:3). In all these injunctions, the emphasis is clearly on moderation; namely, a responsible use of alcohol that does not lead to its control of one’s life.9 [9 Gordon Fee understands these warnings as

“negative reflections on first-century culture itself, which often admired heavy drinkers” ( 1 and 2 Timothy, Titus, Good News Commentary [San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1984], p. 140).] This is in keeping with a central principle of Christian life stated by Paul in Ephesians 5:18: “Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit.” The only legitimate controlling reality in the believer’s life is to be God’s Spirit. All other controlling realities are, in fact, idolatrous.

In light of these prohibitions against the excessive use of alcohol, Paul’s advice to Timothy, “Stop drinking only water and use a little wine” (emphasis mine), implies that Timothy may have concluded, from the warnings against excessive use, that total abstinence was called for. It may even be that the false teachers, in their prohibition against certain foods (1 Tim 4:3), had argued for total abstinence.10 [10 Whether these teachings were grounded in Jewish regulations regarding clean and unclean foods, we do not know. But in the advocacy of an ascetic style of life, the Stoic philosopher Epictetus (a.d. 55–135) taught that one should “drink water only.” (Cited by A. J. Hultgren, 1 Timothy, 2

Timothy, Titus, 2 Thessalonians, Augsburg Commentary on the New Testament [Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1984], p. 93.)]

In any case, Timothy’s total rejection of alcohol seems to have had harmful consequences for his health. So Paul, in keeping with his warnings against abusive use, counsels for the use of “a little wine.” In this, he is simply reflecting the common use of wine, especially for medicinal purposes, in the ancient world. Its beneficial effects

“against dyspeptic complaints, as a tonic, and as counteracting the effects of impure

water, were widely recognized in antiquity”11 [11 J. N. D. Kelly, A Commentary on the Pastoral Epistles (New York: Harper, 1964), p. 129, cites several Jewish and Hellenistic sources, including Hippocrates, who recommended moderate amounts of wine for a patient for whose stomach water alone is dangerous.] and are confirmed by modern medicine. Paul’s view on this matter may have been backed by the advice of his fellow worker Luke, the beloved physician.

See also comment on proverbs 31:6–7.

6:16 Whom No One Has Seen?

See comment on exodus 33:18–23; john 1:18.

2 Timothy

4:14 A Call for Revenge?

See comment on psalms 137:8–9; 139:20.

Titus, Philemon

Titus

1:12–13 Cretans Are Always Liars?

These sentences strike us at best as extreme, at worst as untrue. The people thus categorized are inhabitants of the island of Crete in the eastern Mediterranean, where Titus is a leader among the churches. Presumably most members of these churches, and especially the elders in those churches, whom Paul expects to be blameless, self-controlled, upright, holy and disciplined (Tit 1:8), would not qualify as “liars, evil brutes, lazy gluttons.” Even among the general Cretan population there were surely many who led good and upright lives. Thus the definition of Cretans as “always liars”

is hardly justified. Though Paul is clearly citing from “one of their own prophets,” he supports the generalization by concluding that “this testimony is true.” How are we to understand this harsh language? A closer look at the situation addressed in the Cretan churches, as well as the citation’s origin and history, should ameliorate, if not eliminate, the difficulty.

The situation addressed is one in which heretical teachers are abroad in the churches, opposing “the knowledge of the truth” (Tit 1:1), the promises of God “who does not lie” (Tit 1:2), “the trustworthy message” and “sound doctrine” (Tit 1:9). They are

“deceivers” (Tit 1:10), “teaching things they ought not to teach” (Tit 1:11), rejecting

“the truth” (Tit 1:14).

It is this focus on the untruthfulness of the opponents of the gospel and the untruthfulness of their teaching that brings to Paul’s mind a line from a revered Cretan, Epimenides, a religious teacher and wonderworker from around 600 b.c. Paul’s designation of him as a “prophet” is probably based on the description of Epimenides as an inspired, prophetic man by Plato, Aristotle and other ancient writers. The ground for Epimenides’ unsavory characterization of his fellow Cretans was apparently their

popular claim that the tomb of Zeus, the head of the Greek pantheon of gods, was located on their island. This claim was considered false, since Zeus, as a god, could not be dead. By Paul’s time, Epimenides’ words had become a popular slogan, expressing the widespread reputation of Cretans as untruthful. The verb “to Cretize” became slang for lying or cheating, just as the city of Corinth’s reputation for sexual immorality led to the slang verb “to Corinthianize.”

As we have seen, the context in which Paul appeals to Epimenides’ words is one of crisis. In such a situation of polemical confrontation, exaggerations are common. Paul is obviously angry at the enemies of the truth in the Cretan churches, and he responds to their deceptions by using the typical device of overstatement. What Paul intends to communicate forcefully is clear; namely, in the case of these teachers who peddle false teaching, Epimenides’ dictum is in fact shown to be true.

That Paul’s words are not to be understood in an absolute sense (that is, that every Cretan is a liar!) is confirmed by the fact that his appeal to Epimenides would otherwise involve a contradiction. For since Epimenides is a Cretan, his statement that

“Cretans are always liars” would include him. And that would lead to the conclusion that he always lies and that his statement is therefore false. It is clear then that neither Paul nor Epimenides intended the statement to be understood in an all-inclusive general sense.

3:5 Salvation: Past, Present or Future?

See comment on 1 peter 1:9.

Philemon

12 Did Paul Approve of Slavery?

See comment on ephesians 6:5–8.

Hebrews

1:3 What Is the Trinity?

See comment on john 1:1.

2:10 Make the Author of Their Salvation Perfect?

If Jesus was the Son of God, how could he become perfect through experiences on earth? Was there some imperfection in him that had to be worked out through ordeal?

Doesn’t this challenge an orthodox view of Christ?

The author of Hebrews implies that Jesus, as the preincarnate Son of God, was indeed perfect (Heb 1:2–3). He is greater than the prophets, heir of all things and maker of the universe. But in the passage under consideration he is not in that preincarnate role. His role here is that of “the author of [the Christians’] salvation.” The preincarnate Son of

God was not yet perfect in relation to that role. In fact, he could not fulfill that role at all until he became incarnate and died for the sins of humanity.

Perfection is an important concept in Hebrews (Heb 5:9, 14; 6:1; 7:11, 19, 28; 9:9, 11; 10:1, 14; 11:40; 12:2, 23). The Greek term means “to bring to maturity, perfection or fulfillment.”1 [1 The Greek terms are the verb teleiooµ and the adjective teleios. ] The fulfillment aspect is the most important in Hebrews. The theme of the whole book is the fulfillment of the reality behind Mosaic ritual, but there is also a fulfillment coming to the lives of Christians as they go on to complete that to which they were called at their conversion.

Even though Christ has done everything for them on the cross and they receive this upon committing themselves to him, there is a promise involved in this reception that is not fulfilled until they live out that to which they were called.

This same concept of fulfillment appears in Christ. At birth he is designated as Savior, but he has at that time done nothing to deserve such a title. It is a promise, a hope, but not yet a reality. He goes through life obeying the will of God and therefore experiencing suffering (Heb 2:18). The question remains: Will he keep on until the end? At Gethsemane, facing the time of fulfillment, he cries out, “Not my will but yours be done” (Heb 5:7 reflects this Gospel cry). He continues on his way to the cross and fulfills everything that is needed to be “founder” (the Greek term means “author,”

“founder” or “leader” in most contexts) of salvation for his followers. Before that point he was not yet perfect, for death was a requirement to bring life to his people. After his death and resurrection he was the total fulfillment of all that was needed to bring salvation.

Therefore the perfection of Christ referred to here is a functional perfection, not a moral perfection, for he was never anything less than sinless. It is an earned perfection that will show up in its other aspects three more times in Hebrews (Heb 2:18; 4:15; 5:7–9), but at this point the function is salvation, earned only through death. Thus in talking about the perfecting of Christ the author underlines the fact that it was only through death that the world could gain a Savior.

See also comment on hebrews 5:7–9.

4:15 Tempted in Every Way?

How could God be tempted? Hebrews states twice that Jesus was tempted, for the author first writes, “Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted” (Heb 2:18), and now he states that Jesus “has been tempted in every way, just as we are” (Heb 4:15). Yet many Christians argue that Christ really could not have been tempted “just as we are.” After all, he was the sinless Son of God. Would not his very existence as God mean that his experience of temptation was at most that of watching a strong enemy smash himself on an impregnable castle? Was there ever any feeling of the desirability of sin that makes temptation so difficult for us?

Actually, these verses are difficult because they involve two issues, the nature of temptation and the nature of Christ. The first we have experience with; with the second we as human beings have no experience, and we must rely on the simple statements of Scripture.

The Greek term for “temptation” could also be translated “test.” Human beings are tested to see if we will obey God when the chips are down (see Gen 22:1, the classic example of passing a test). We are tested to see if we will remain faithful when there is nothing to win (for example, Job 1–2). We are tested to see if our hearts are truly for God or whether we are trying to serve two masters (Jas 1:14–15; compare Jas 4:3–4).

Jesus experienced all of these things. In Matthew 4 Jesus faces three tests, parallel to the tests of Israel in the wilderness: (1) When he appears to be starving will he, like Israel, demand that God feed him? He passes the test and refuses, being willing to trust God to the point of death if necessary. As long as God has said, “Fast,” he will fast. (2) Could he be certain that God would care for him? Why not test God to be sure that he would come through? Jesus passes this test because his trust in God is unshakable. He will not put God to the test, for he has genuine faith. (3) Will God really give him the kingdoms of this world? Does that not look impossible, since Satan controls them? Is not God’s way an unlikely and difficult one? One little compromise is all it will take to bring the kingdom without pain. Jesus again passes the test because he refuses to compromise with evil, however enticing or even spiritual it may seem. Thus Jesus demonstrates he is God’s true Son, as Israel in the wilderness proved to be a false son.

These three examples are precisely the same types of tests that we as human beings face.

But what makes us fail the test? James (Jas 1:14) and Paul (Rom 7:17) trace the cause to a principle within us that James calls “desire” and the Jews called the “evil impulse,”

or yeµs\er. None of the writers believe that this is guilt-producing in the sense that simply to have it made one guilty. Rather it was just “desire”—or what a psychologist might call a “drive.” Food is desirable because I am hungry; shelter is desirable because I am cold. But hunger also makes my neighbors’ food desirable. Likewise their house or clothing might be desirable if I were cold. As we see in observing a baby, drive or desire has no moral boundaries. Part of becoming godly is to learn when to say yes to desire and when to say no. Err on the side of saying no too often and one might become an ascetic, refusing God’s good gifts, or possibly even die. Err on the side of saying yes too much and one becomes a libertine, breaking God’s boundaries in some way or another. Satan’s destructive purposes are served by either error.

Did Jesus have desire? The answer, found in Hebrews, is that he “has been tempted in every way, just as we are.” Matthew 4:2 states that he was hungry. The drive or desire was present. Likewise we assume that all other normal human drives were present. He felt thirst, weariness, sexual desire, loneliness and all else that we feel. Some of these he felt to the extreme. Think of the loneliness that he felt when he cried out from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Jesus was, according to this text and the witness of the New Testament in general, fully human.

The one exception to human experience we find in Jesus is that he did not sin. In Matthew 4 he never gives in, but passes each of the tests. In Gethsemane he struggles mightily, but in the end says, “Not my will, but yours.” At the cross he surely felt the impulse of pain and anger as he was stripped naked and nailed to the crossbar, but his response is “Father, forgive them.” To each situation, Hebrews asserts, he gave the proper response in the sight of God. He was without sin. Could he have sinned?

Scripture never enters into such philosophical speculation. But it certainly implies that there was virtue in not sinning and that the test was real, which seems to imply the possibility of failing. One point, however, Hebrews makes crystal clear: whether Jesus could sin or not, the issue in the end is academic. He did not sin.

Although the church through the ages often practically has denied the humanity of Christ, picturing him as more divine than human, it has refused to allow that distortion doctrinally. The creeds assert that there were not two natures, as if the human nature would feel something and the divine nature would give the right response. There was also no attenuation of the human nature so that he experienced human feelings in some less intense manner than other human beings. He was, the creeds assert, fully incarnate, everything that we as human beings are, except that he never sinned. While the creeds are not Scripture, they safeguard what the author of Hebrews is attempting to express: Jesus experienced testing just as all of us do.

The reason for this dogmatic statement is important. According to Hebrews 4:15, Jesus can “sympathize with our weaknesses.” He can do this, the argument runs, because he has experienced the same type of weaknesses. He may be exalted at God’s right hand now, but he fully and experientially understands all that human beings are going through.2 [2 One might object that a major part of human experience is that of guilt, which Jesus could not share because he did not sin. Such a response would be correct when one considers Jesus’ life, but it breaks down at the cross. There Jesus did take sin upon himself—even if it was not his own—experiencing fully what it means to be guilty before God. In fact, because he knew God so well, it is likely that he experienced our guilt far more keenly than we do. Therefore there is truly no human experience other than the act of sinning with which Jesus cannot identify.] “Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted” (Heb 2:18). One must have experience with a situation to be helpful in the situation, but even then one will not be helpful unless the experience is successful. A person who failed a test is hardly the one to coach another on how to prepare for the test. Jesus took the very same test as we do, indeed, a more intense form of the very same test. But he passed. He “was without sin.” He did not fail in any way. As a result he can in fact respond with true sympathy to human beings now suffering under testing, for he truly “feels with,” having himself felt the same pain and impulses. He can also show by example the successful way through the test.

The Incarnation is a mystery, but the witness of Hebrews is that it was real. There is no way Jesus was not like us, except in our sinning. Offensive as this may be to the mind, which prefers a Greek view of a God untouched by real human feelings and testings, it is comforting to the heart, which is precisely why the author of Hebrews taught it.

5:7–9 Jesus Learned Obedience?

When we read Hebrews 5:7–9, we are keenly aware of Jesus’ emotions, his “loud cries and tears,” and we appreciate this look into Jesus’ humanity. But then the passage grates against our sensitivities when we read that Jesus “learned obedience.” Wasn’t Christ already obedient in becoming incarnate? Was there anything that the Son of God had to learn? Can God learn? Can we hold an orthodox view of the divinity of Christ and still accept this Scripture?

The context of this passage is that of the high priesthood of Jesus. Immediately after describing the exalted nature of this call, the author turns to the qualifications of Christ. The main qualification of a true priest is that he must obey God. Jesus was obedient to God. The author then makes it clear that obedience was learned in the context of suffering.

The example of suffering given here appears to be that of Gethsemane; it is the only occasion we know of when Jesus prayed intensely while facing death. The author does not describe a serene Jesus calmly facing the cross, but rather a deeply distressed Jesus

wailing out loud prayers to his Father. This in itself shows a genuinely distraught human being, not an individual who minimizes the cross because he knows it will turn out all right. What is interesting, however, is that God saved him from death, not because of the intensity of the prayer, but because of his reverence or piety (what the NIV [NIV New International Version] translates as “reverent submission”3 [3 Some translations prefer “he was heard [delivered, set free] from his fear.” This has a good basis in the use of the Greek term in the Greek Old Testament, but given that (1) the author of Hebrews is a literate person and (2) classical Greek literature uses the Greek term used here for “piety” and (3) the context of this verse, the meaning used here is more likely.] ). That is, even in the most intensely trying situation Jesus maintained reverential submission toward God. And his prayers were heard, not in the sense that he did not die, for Hebrews is very aware of the death of Christ, but in the sense that he was “delivered out of death” (an overliteral translation that makes the intended point) or raised from the dead.

This information, then, instructs us about what it means to learn obedience and be made perfect. The obedience Jesus learned was the obedience of suffering. It is one thing to obey when there is no resistance; it is another thing to obey when that very obedience will bring you pain. Before the Incarnation who resisted the Son? Only in his life on earth did he suffer for his obedience. In other words, there are some things that even God can experience only by becoming a human being with all of our human limitations.4 [4 This is similar to the difference between our experiencing a hurricane by means of a computer model and living through a real hurricane. The first might give one a tremendous understanding of a hurricane, perhaps a far better one than could be obtained by the person in the middle of the storm, but it is the second type of experience that makes it possible to empathize with the terror of those living through the storm.] Obedience in the face of suffering is one of them. This in turn brought Jesus to perfection, which has the sense of “maturity” or “fulfillment.”

That is, through obedience in the face of intense suffering, Jesus was able to complete or fulfill his mission, namely to become the source or basis of eternal salvation (versus a temporal deliverance) to those who in turn obey him. This completed mission is the basis for his present high priesthood.

This whole passage, then, turns on obedience in the face of suffering. Jesus was the Son, heir of all and exalted above the angels (Heb 1). But as a good Son Jesus submitted to the will of the Father. God’s will for him included intense suffering, and yet he obeyed to the end. The result was that he was eternally delivered from death and so is now a high priest forever. The believers Hebrews is addressing are experiencing suffering, although so far no one has died (Heb 12:4). They, like Jesus, will also obtain eternal salvation by obedience to the end, obedience to Christ.

Thus, Jesus does learn, although it is not a theoretical learning but an experiential learning of what it is to obey in the face of intense suffering. He also experiences a perfecting through this obedience, a perfection in the sense of a completion of his work as Savior, making him in reality what he was by God’s declaration. Any Christology that has a place for genuine humanity must also have a place for such a learning (with

“loud cries and tears”) and such a perfection. Furthermore, it is just such a Christ that is worthy of trust when we are ourselves facing suffering.

See also comment on hebrews 2:10.

6:4–6 Is Repentance Ever Impossible?

Most Christians know of individuals who for one reason or another have left the faith.

They may not have actually denied the faith, but they are certainly not practicing the faith. For such people this is a very troubling passage. Is there anyone who cannot be

brought to repentance? Can a person have shared the Holy Spirit and then be lost? And are these people really eternally lost? Is this really a description of a Christian?

First, this passage is not unique but rather is part of a group of passages concerning people who cannot be forgiven or brought to repentance. Mark 3:28–29 refers to blasphemy against the Holy Spirit, which will never be forgiven. The context is that of people observing the work of the Spirit through Jesus and calling it the work of the devil. In 1 John 5:16 the author speaks of a “sin unto death” (KJV [KJV King James Version] ) about which, the elder implies, prayer is useless. Finally, the verse under consideration here refers to a class of people who cannot “be brought back to repentance.” The issue is not whether God would forgive them if they repented, but whether there is any way to bring them to repent at all. The answer is no. They are like farmland that produces nothing useful; “in the end it will be burned.” People can so harden themselves against God that nothing will keep them from hell.

Second, the people under discussion are fully initiated Christians. In the preceding passage, the author contemplates whether he should discuss Melchizedek, a difficult teaching, or return to the basic teachings of the faith. He lists these foundational experiences as repentance, faith and teaching on (a) baptism (differentiating the Christian baptism from other types of cleansing rituals), (b) reception of the Spirit (laying on of hands), (c) resurrection of the dead and (d) eternal judgment. If the instruction they received had been defective, there would be some reason to go over it again. But he will not return to these teachings, for he knows these readers. They are fully initiated Christians. There was nothing defective in how they were brought to Christ, so there is no use in going back over the basics.

These individuals are “enlightened” (often a reference to baptism, but at the least meaning that they have received accurate teaching about God), “have tasted the heavenly gift” (often a reference to participating in the Lord’s Supper, but at the least meaning salvation or reception of the Spirit), “have shared in the Holy Spirit” (who except Christians receives this?), and “have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the coming age” (probably indicating their experience of prophetic words and miracles, seen as a present experience of what would be fully realized in the coming age; see Gal 3:1–5). These are people with a full Christian experience, defective in no way. In fact, this is one of the clearest descriptions of Christian initiation in the New Testament.

Third, what is the author’s concern about these people? Hebrews 6 is an excursus the author inserted into the argument because he is afraid that when he gets to the difficult subject of Melchizedek the readers will “turn him off.” He is not afraid that they will not understand or go to sleep while this section of the book is read, but that they will reject the teaching and with it their commitment to Christ. Throughout the book he is concerned that they will leave their Christian faith and return to Judaism. The concept of an order of priests after Melchizedek (namely Jesus, the only one he cites as being in that order) contrasts with, and is an implicit criticism of, the Aaronic order that served in Jerusalem, which is something the readers may not have wanted to hear. The author is warning them before he brings the difficult teaching not to apostatize, because the consequence of such an action is damnation.

His warning comes as a description of what it would mean to apostatize. That he is talking about full-blown apostasy is clear, for he uses the phrase “they are crucifying the Son of God all over again and subjecting him to public disgrace” (Heb 6:6). That

is, they once confessed that Jesus was Lord and Messiah, which means they repented of the injustice of the crucifixion. Now in rejecting the faith they are declaring that the crucifixion was correct after all—Jesus was a blasphemer and not Messiah. Such a public recantation exposes Jesus to public disgrace.

Is it possible that the author is simply writing about a hypothetical situation? If so, there are two possible ways to understand it. The first is that both the author and his readers know that this cannot happen, so it is hypothetical for all of them. In that case one wonders why the author wasted his ink. His purpose clearly is to exhort them not to return to Judaism. If his warnings are only hypothetical, how would they keep people from apostatizing? The second possibility is that the author knows this is hypothetical, but he believes his readers will take it seriously. In that case it would serve as a warning, but it would be deceptive. Is the author of Hebrews likely to defend the truth with deception? Would he scare his readers with a situation he knows could never happen?

What, then, is the author of Hebrews saying? He is refusing to return to basics on the grounds that there is no use in doing so for people who have been accurately initiated into the Christian faith. His arguments to keep them in the faith must come from deeper truth, not from a clarification of the foundational truth. He then points out by way of warning that if fully initiated Christians turn their backs on Christ, they will so harden themselves that nothing anyone can do will bring them back to repentance.

Their end result will be eternal damnation. But, he concludes, while this is a real possibility for some, “we are confident of better things in your case” (Heb 6:9). If he were not, at least for some of them, there would have been no use in writing the letter at all. They may be on the verge of apostasy, but they have not made the decision and crossed the line.

In so writing the author strikes the balance found throughout the New Testament. The New Testament authors write out of an experience of the grace of Christ and a firm conviction that they are on their way to a greater inheritance in heaven. At the same time, they write with a concern that they or their readers could apostatize and thus lose what they already have. So long as people are following Christ they are supremely confident about them. If their readers turn back to the world, rejecting the rule of Christ, then the New Testament authors never express any hope that without repentance such people will enter heaven. This is a sobering, but not a fear-producing, type of tension seen in Paul (1 Cor 9:27; Gal 5:2, 7–10; Phil 3:12; 2 Tim 4:7, sometimes speaking of the tension in his own life and sometimes speaking of his concern for others), James (Jas 5:20, the purpose of the letter being to “save [a sinner, meaning a believer who has turned to the world] from death”), Jude (Jude 23) and John (1 Jn 5:16–17 KJV [KJV King James Version] , the emphasis being on praying for people before they commit the “sin unto death”). The call to the modern reader is to pay attention to the warning and “to imitate those who through faith and patience inherit what has been promised” (Heb 6:12) so that the author would say of us as well,

“We are confident of better things in your case—things that accompany salvation.”

See also comment on mark 3:28–29; hebrews 10:26; 2 peter 1:10; 1 john 5:16–17.

7:1 Who Was Melchizedek?

The historical Melchizedek and his deeds occupy three verses of the Old Testament,

Genesis 14:18–20. The comparison of Jesus with this figure occupies a whole chapter of Hebrews, beginning with Hebrews 7:1. What is more, the author of Hebrews has some strange things to say about King Melchizedek: “First, his name means ‘king of righteousness’; then also, ‘king of Salem’ means ‘king of peace.’ Without father or mother, without genealogy, without beginning of days or end of life, like the Son of God he remains a priest forever” (Heb 7:2–3). Who was the historical character Melchizedek? How is Hebrews using the Old Testament? Is this use legitimate? Was it legitimate only for the author of Hebrews, or is it still legitimate today?

Palestine in the Middle Bronze Age (the period before 1500 b.c.) was divided into numerous city-states. Melchizedek is identified as the priest-king of Salem, which many scholars identify with Jerusalem. There they worshiped El ElyoÆn, or God Most High. While this term is frequently used in the Psalms for Yahweh, it is not recorded as a name by which the patriarchs knew God. Still, Abraham must have recognized an identity between this One and the God he worshiped, for he later takes an oath by God Most High (Gen 14:22). Perhaps he had previous contact with Melchizedek or he and his allies had paused to pray and worship in Salem on their way north. But Melchizedek remains one of the shadowy non-Israelite figures of the Old Testament, including Balaam, which show that God apparently was known to people other than to Israel.

Melchizedek fades from view after this incident, presumably returning to Salem and living out his days. Some scholars point to the sudden appearance of the Zadokite line of priests after David captures Jerusalem, suggesting that they descended from Melchizedek (the ZDK in Zadok and Melchizedek are forms of the same root) and merged with the Aaronic line. Whatever the case, later Judaism did speculate on Melchizedek. There is some evidence that the Hasmonean priest-kings of Judah (164

b.c.–63 b.c.), from which the Sadducees probably came, looked to Melchizedek for a precedent of a person who was both a priest and a king. In response, rabbinic Judaism (and presumably Pharisaic Judaism earlier) named Melchizedek as one who would “not inherit the age to come” because he blessed Abraham first before he blessed God! A third Jewish view is found in the Dead Sea Scroll 11Q Melchizedek, in which he appears as an archangel warrior. None of this speculation is taken up by the author of Hebrews, although his caution in speaking about Melchizedek may be related to the low view taken of him in Pharisaic circles.

What the author does is look at what the text does and does not say and draw historical correspondences to Christ. He first looks at his name. Melek is the standard Hebrew for “king,” and zedek comes from the same root as “righteous” or

“righteousness.” Originally the name probably meant “my king [= god] is righteous” or

“my king is Zedek,” but the author reads it as one might normally read what is called a Hebrew construct state, “king of righteousness.” He then looks at his being king of Salem and notes that Salem comes from the same root as sûaloµm, the Hebrew for

“peace” or “well-being.” Thus he derives the meaning “king of peace.” It is clear that he wants the readers to draw a parallel between Melchizedek and Jesus, whom he has argued is without sin and therefore righteous (Heb 4:15), in contrast to the Aaronic priests. He also has called Jesus the bringer of God’s true rest (Heb 4:1–11), which might be comparable to peace. But the author never makes either of the comparisons explicit. Nor do we discover if calling Melchizedek “king of righteousness” has any implications for the low view we presume was taken by Pharisaic Judaism. Presumably the author knows the background of his readers and expects them to draw the proper

conclusions.5 [5 For a fuller study of the interpretation of this passage, see Bruce Demarest, A History of Interpretation of Hebrews 7:1–10 from the Reformation to the Present (Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr, 1976).]

Then the author notes that Melchizedek is not called “son of” anyone. That several other individuals in the Abraham stories are also named without their parents (such as Abimelek) is immaterial, for he is only interested in the parallel with Melchizedek. He is not talking about history. He then points out that Melchizedek also has no descendants named in the text, nor is there any mention of his birth or death.

Historically we expect none of this for a figure who makes only a cameo appearance in the narrative. But for the author they are a parallel with Jesus. He has already indicated that Jesus existed before his birth (Heb 1:2–3), but his real interest is that Jesus exercises his priesthood in heaven as a resurrected being. Thus it literally has no end, just as no end is reported of Melchizedek’s life. This contrasts with the repeated changes of ministry, even under ideal circumstances,6 [6 The circumstances in the first century were not ideal, for since 170 b.c., when the Seleucid king had deposed the last Zadokite high priest, Onias III, rulers of Palestine had frequently stepped in and changed high priests, except during the relative independence of 164–63 b.c. Under the Romans the high priest was often changed every year or two as a deliberate policy to limit their power. The author of Hebrews quietly ignores these facts, for he wants to look at ideal Judaism, not the actual situation.] in the Aaronic priesthood due to the deaths of the high priests.

The author of Hebrews, then, demonstrates a way of interpreting the text that is foreign to modern methods of exegesis. That is, he sees Melchizedek and each detail of the Genesis text as a “type” or historical precedent for Jesus, the “antitype.” This form of exegesis is frowned upon today, but such a typological interpretation was quite moderate according to the standards of the author’s age. We argue that neither etymology (explaining the meaning of the names) nor typology (noting the correspondences in history in what the text does and does not say) bring out the meaning that the original author (the author of Genesis) had in mind when he wrote the text, and therefore that they are not appropriate means of interpretation if we are interested in biblical authority being behind our interpretation.7 [7 See, for example, Walter Kaiser, Toward an Exegetical Theology (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 1981).] This was not the point of view of the New Testament writers, who believed that there were deeper meanings than the historical to be discovered in texts, a view that they shared with their contemporaries.

Furthermore, they believed that they were under the inspiration of the Spirit and had in Jesus the key to the deeper meaning of the Old Testament. The surprising thing is not how they interpreted Scripture, but how conservative they were in doing it.8 [8 For further information, see Richard N. Longenecker, Biblical Exegesis in the Apostolic Period (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1975).]

How can the modern reader evaluate this? Orthodox Christians believe that the writers of Scripture did have the inspiration of the Spirit. Therefore it would be the prerogative of the Spirit to give whatever message he wanted through his Scripture, even if it might not be the historical message. But can the same be done today?

Certainly the New Testament expects that the Spirit will remain in the church, but any speaking under the inspiration of the Spirit, according to Paul, cannot be a claim to absolute truth but must be “weighed carefully” (1 Cor 14:29). Scripture, of course, has already been weighed carefully by the church as a whole and found fully of the Spirit.

No present speaker can claim such credentials. Thus, exegesis such as we find in Hebrews could be appropriate and helpful for the church so long as the speaker (1) did not claim the authority of the scriptural text for it and (2) did not expect his words to be accepted without careful sifting and weighing (and perhaps correcting and revising).

The only exegesis that can claim a higher level of authority is that in which the speaker points his or her finger to the text and is aligned with its message clearly enough for all to see.

8:5 A Copy of What Is in Heaven?

In a college philosophy course I learned that Plato believed that what we call realities on this earth are really only shadows of the eternal ideals, which are not physical at all.

Likewise Buddhist thought looks on the phenomenal world as unreal. If we read Hebrews 8:5 with this in mind, we are quite likely to be somewhat confused. The verse quite clearly refers to the tabernacle in the wilderness, which it claims was a copy of something in heaven, as the rest of the verse points out: “This is why Moses was warned when he was about to build the tabernacle: ‘See to it that you make everything according to the pattern shown you on the mountain.’” In what way was this a copy?

Is there a sanctuary in heaven? And if so, could it be made out of goats-hair cloth and sea-cow skins? If not, has the author been influenced by Plato (since it is unlikely that he had ever met a Buddhist)?

Hebrews does have a great concern with the tabernacle. In fact, the author never once mentions the temple, either Solomon’s temple or the second temple (later enlarged and beautified as Herod’s temple), which Jesus knew. Some see this as an indication that the temple was destroyed before Hebrews was written, while others note that if this were true, the author could have pointed the fact out, strengthening his case for the inadequacy of Judaism by showing that sacrifices were no longer being offered.

Therefore it is more likely that the author views the temple as irrelevant, whether or not it was standing. God never commanded the building of the temple (2 Sam 7:5–7); he never gave a blueprint for it. He certainly did not say anything about Herod’s version of the temple. But he did command the building of the tabernacle in the wilderness. The author, who shares with Stephen (Acts 7) a rather negative evaluation of the temple, therefore points to the ideal, to the tabernacle. In fact, in every way he points to Judaism at its ideal, as if it were actually running the way the Old Testament said it should. In this way he can clearly point beyond reform (cleaning up the present wrongs) to replacement (Jesus as the end of the old system).

There was probably a variety of beliefs in Judaism concerning the tabernacle itself, but clear evidence exists that at least some Jews believed that it corresponded to a heavenly sanctuary. For example, 2Baruch 4:5 states, “And again I showed [this building … that was already prepared from the moment that I decided to create Paradise] also to Moses on Mount Sinai when I showed him the likeness of the tabernacle and all its vessels” (compare Josephus Antiquities 3.123; Wars 5:212–13; Martyrdom and Ascension of Isaiah 7:10). We do not know how far back this tradition goes, but it was a common idea in the ancient Near East that the temples on earth were models of the homes of the gods.

But we need to contrast this belief with the Platonic Judaism of Philo. Philo also used the language of “shadow,” but for him what was in heaven was not a structure, but ideas and principles. These were metaphorically expressed in the physical structure on earth. The real is the world of ideas. This is not the position of Hebrews. In quoting Exodus 25:40 the author’s stress is on “the pattern shown you,” something that Moses saw (a more literal translation of the Hebrew reads, “that you were caused to see”).

There is a correspondence between heaven and earth, but it is that of two physical realities in different spheres, not that of the ideal and the material. Heaven may be a better form of the material, a spiritual material, so to speak, for the New Testament, but it is viewed as real and solid, unlike Platonic and Buddhist thought.9 [9 This fits with the

belief in the resurrection of the dead, which is repugnant to the Platonist and something from which the Buddhist would attempt to escape. Throughout the New Testament the resurrected dead have bodies. They are not just spirit. So while Paul in 1 Corinthians 15

can speak of a transformed body, a spiritual substance, he is clearly talking of something other than mere spirit (otherwise there would be no need for a resurrection at all). The Gospel narratives also speak of the physical properties of the resurrected body of Jesus, even though some of his abilities appear to transcend normal physical activities.]

The belief in a heavenly sanctuary is also found in Revelation. The altar in heaven (perhaps the altar of sacrifice) is mentioned (Rev 6:9), as well as the altar of incense (Rev 8:3). Both the temple and the altar are mentioned in Revelation 14:17–18. That the temple contains “the ark of his covenant” is noted in Revelation 11:19. Finally, the temple is called “the tent of witness” in Revelation 15:5 [RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] ] (in the context of the singing of the “song of Moses the servant of God”). In other words, in the prophet John’s vision there exists in heaven a temple that is the original of the tabernacle. To the extent that it is described, its furniture corresponds to that of the Mosaic tabernacle. While Revelation is an apocalyptic vision, there is no indication that the author did not believe that what he saw was real, as real as God, the Lamb and the events he saw on earth. Hebrews, then, is far from alone in this belief in a heavenly sanctuary.

What this means for the author is that Moses saw the heavenly tabernacle while on Mount Sinai. He copied the pattern by divine command—not that he used the same materials (after all, he had to make a portable earthly shrine), but that he translated the plan into the available materials of the wilderness. That this was a tabernacle and not a temple was probably deliberate, since a tent or tabernacle is a temporary dwelling, while a house or temple is a permanent dwelling. The permanent was in heaven; the temporary (or as Hebrews puts it, the “copy and shadow”) was on earth.

The point the author is making is twofold. First, just as the copy is inferior to the original, so also all the features of the earthly tabernacle and its worship are inferior to the heavenly. Jesus’ ministry is in the heavenly tabernacle, not the earthly. Second, just as the earthly tabernacle was set apart as holy by sacrifice, so must the heavenly be cleansed. But its sacrifice must be superior to earthly sacrifices. “It was necessary, then, for the copies of the heavenly things to be purified with these sacrifices, but the heavenly things themselves with better sacrifices than these” (Heb 9:23). This better sacrifice was none other than the blood of Christ, brought into the Holy of Holies, not of the earthly tabernacle, but of the heavenly.

In other words, the presentation of the earthly tabernacle as a copy is not a downgrading of the material world, but an exaltation of the work of Christ. His work is complete and final, superior to anything that could have been done on earth, because it was done in the very dwelling of God, in the heavenly tabernacle itself.

10:14 Made Perfect?

The men who wrote the Dead Sea Scrolls used to call themselves “the perfect of way,”

but Christians have not wanted to call any human being (other than Jesus) perfect. In fact, when people intimate that they are in any way perfect, we call them proud and believe that they are self-deceived. Thus it does not surprise us that Hebrews glorifies the work of Christ, but it does surprise us when we read in this passage that Jesus has

“made perfect forever” a group of human beings. How could living human beings be perfect? Furthermore, how can they be perfect if they are still “being made holy”?

Aren’t the two expressions contradictory?

The meaning of the first part of the verse is clear in context. Hebrews 10:11–12

contrasts the daily offerings of the Aaronic priests, “which can never take away sins,”

with the completed once-for-all sacrifice of Christ. The Aaronic priests still stand, working at a job that will never be finished, while Christ sits “at the right hand of God,” his work completed. From this perspective he has made all who believe in him

“perfect forever.” The author then quotes Jeremiah 31:34, a passage about a new covenant, arguing that according to this new covenant in Christ, “their sins and lawless acts I [God] will remember no more” (Heb 10:17). He then adds, “And where these have been forgiven, there is no longer any sacrifice for sin” (Heb 10:18). In other words, perfection here does not mean that people are free from moral error, but that they are completely forgiven for their moral error. This sense is possible because the Greek term for “perfect” can mean “complete” or “fulfilled” or “brought to a conclusion.” For the author of Hebrews, Jesus has brought the work of forgiving sins to a conclusion or to completion. He has fulfilled the new covenant. Those who commit themselves to him are perfect in that there is nothing remaining in them that God has to forgive.

How does this fit with the concept of “those who are being made holy”? In Hebrews 10:10 the author uses the same Greek term (for making something holy) in another tense. There he refers to a work completed in the death of Christ, a holiness given to the believer on the basis of what Jesus has done. “And by that will [of God in establishing the new covenant], we have been made holy through the sacrifice of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.” Four verses later he changes the tense, using the same one as in Hebrews 2:11, which refers to a process.

We can interpret this in two ways. The first is that individuals are made holy as they commit themselves to Christ. Thus this verse would indicate that the work of Christ is once-for-all, but as individuals repent and commit themselves to Jesus they enter into this completed work, being made holy, that is, fit to enter the presence of God—

forgiven of their sins. The progressiveness of making people holy is in this interpretation that of spreading the gospel so more and more people enter into the holiness available in Christ.

The second way of interpreting the phrase is that there is a tension in the Christian life.

On the one hand, we have been forgiven. Nothing else is needed. No further work of Christ is necessary. On the other hand, sanctification is a progressive action in the Christian life. We are not yet completely free from sin. Our past sins may have been forgiven; the power of sin in our lives may have been broken; but we keep sinning and God must continue to confront us and bring us to repentance over and over again. We are in the process of being made truly holy, not just forgiven for our failure to be holy.

While both explanations are possible, I personally prefer the second, because it appears most fully to take into account the change in tense in the verb and reflects the fact that the spread of the gospel is not a topic in this chapter. Furthermore, it expresses a tension that is frequently found in the New Testament. Christians are not to walk around feeling guilty, but forgiven. They stand before God in an attitude of gratitude for forgiveness, not cringing because of guilt. Yet the more they appreciate the sacrifice of Christ, the more they become aware that they are not yet holy; indeed, that which they might not have viewed as sin before they now see as sinful. God is producing holiness in each believer, but it is a process that takes discipline (as Heb 12

will argue). Losing sight of either side of this tension is disastrous. On the one hand,

we might so focus on the perfection accomplished on the cross that we neglect to cooperate with God in growing in holiness. On the other hand, we might so focus on the process of becoming holy that we lose the relief of knowing that Christ has done all that is necessary, and so wallow in guilt and feel alienated from God. Both sides of the balance are necessary, and both are found in this verse.

See also comment on 2 corinthians 5:17; 1john 3:6, 9.

10:26 No Forgiveness for Deliberate Sin?

All who examine their lives according to Jesus’ standards discover sin; it may not be a frequent event or a flagrant sin, but none of us has lived up to what Jesus has revealed of the Father’s character. We are also forced to admit that some of our sin is deliberate. That is, we do not deliberately set out to sin, but we know in ourselves that some deed or activity is wrong (at least for us, if not for everyone), yet we stifle our consciences and do it anyway. At times we may even recognize that we planned our sin quite carefully, or at least planned to walk into temptation, knowing full well (in our hearts, if not in our minds) that we would give in. If this is an accurate description of the human condition, then Hebrews 10:26 is very disturbing. Is this verse making the distinction that the Old Testament does between deliberate and accidental sins? Is it saying that there is forgiveness for accidental or unknowing sins, but not for the other type? And if this is the case, are all of us who have knowingly sinned after our conversion lost? If that is in fact the meaning, this verse should cause terror and despair rather than mere concern.

The Old Testament makes a clear distinction between willful or deliberate sin and inadvertent sins.10 [10 With the possible exception of the Day of Atonement, the Old Testament required no sacrifices for what we call sin. The unintentional sins mentioned there are situations in which a person or the community does not know the law.

Only after doing something do they discover that God has prohibited it. Other types of sin and guilt offerings that were required were for such things as the healing of leprosy (restoring the former leper to the community) and the blood of childbirth, neither of which involves any moral failure. Old Testament offerings were primarily for ritual impurity and had almost nothing to do with what we call sin.] After discussing the procedure for obtaining forgiveness for inadvertent sins in Numbers 15:22–29, the author adds, “But anyone who sins defiantly, … that person must be cut off from his people” (Num 15:30). The example that follows this passage tells of a person who gathered wood on the sabbath, presumably because his fire was going out and he had neglected to gather enough wood the previous day. Surely this was a small act, unlike murder or even theft. But it was also clear that he had consciously gone out to do work on the sabbath and was not ignorant of the law against work on that day. It was a deliberate sin. He was stoned to death at the command of the Lord. A deliberate sin is not to be taken lightly.

Although the Old Testament makes a distinction between deliberate and accidental sin, that does not appear to be the point being made in Hebrews, which looks at life from a perspective of Jesus’ already having come and died for sin. If Jesus understands human weakness and helps those who are tempted (Heb 2:17–18; 4:15), he is hardly going to fail to understand our failure. Similarly, Paul’s response to failure was to restore the person (Gal 6:1), even when the sin was quite serious (2 Cor 2:5–11).11 [11 The sinner here is probably not the person mentioned in 1 Corinthians 5, but a leader who had opposed Paul and forced him to withdraw from the church during the “painful visit” (2 Cor 2:1). Paul wrote his “letter of tears” after this, and the church responded by disciplining the rebel leader (2 Cor 2:3–4). So the sin was rebellion against God’s apostle, perhaps even expelling the apostle from the church he had founded.] Hebrews is not a Pauline writing, but it comes out of the same circle of acquaintances (Heb 13:23). We would therefore expect similar attitudes toward forgiveness of sin.

The point Hebrews is making can best be seen by following the author’s progression of thought. Having noted the adequacy of Christ’s sacrifice in Hebrews 10:1–18, he urges the readers to draw near to God with confidence (Heb 10:19–22). This is expressed in (1) holding on to the hope that we have in Christ, (2) encouraging each other to live the faith in practice and (3) gathering together (Heb 10:23–25). The opposite of these would be to withdraw from the Christian gatherings, to stop doing public expressions of faith, and to give up commitment to Christ and hope in him. In other words, the opposite would be apostasy.

That this is the point of the passage is clearly seen in Hebrews 10:29, where the

“deliberate” sinners are described as those who have “trampled the Son of God under foot,” treated the “blood of the covenant” as something common (in other words, looked upon Jesus’ death as just any common criminal’s death) and “insulted the Spirit of grace.” This is deliberate sin, but deliberate in the sense that a person willfully is renouncing Christianity and rejecting Jesus, his death and the personal experience of the Spirit (which is the slander against the Holy Spirit condemned in Mk 3:28–29).

It is not that such deliberate sinners (or apostates) did not know the truth. The author is clear on that point. Only “after we have received the knowledge of the truth” is such an action so serious. Like those mentioned in Hebrews 6:4–8, they have been fully initiated into Christianity, for the phrase “knowledge of the truth” is common in the later New Testament writings for having come to full Christian conversion (Jn 8:32; 1

Tim 2:4; 4:3; 2 Tim 2:25; Tit 1:1; 1 Jn 2:21; 2 Jn 1). But they have chosen to reject their experience of Christ. Had they received a distorted picture of Christianity there might have been hope, for one could correct the distortion. But they have developed a

“sinful, unbelieving heart that turns away from the living God” (Heb 3:12). For such people there is no sacrifice for sin remaining; they have rejected the only one that exists. What remains is the judgment of God.

This does not mean that the early church took sin lightly, deliberate or accidental. Any sin called for rebuke and restoration or, if unrepented of, discipline (see Mt 18:15–20; 1 Cor 5:1–5). And sinning could lead to sickness (Jas 5:15) or death (1 Cor 11:30).

Furthermore, deliberately hardening one’s conscience and disobeying God could start one on the way to this outright rejection of the faith. It might also indicate that the person remains outside the faith, for Jesus is not yet Lord to the one who disobeys him (1 Cor 6:9–10; Gal 5:19–21). Yet serious as their condition is, the possibility remains that all such people can be brought to repentance in one way or another. There are still arguments to be put forward and evidence to be shown. For the people the author is talking about, however, nothing of the kind is possible. They knew the truth fully, but have deliberately renounced what they once embraced. There is no new evidence or arguments to present. We can only tremble at the thought of the judgment awaiting them and take care that we stay far away from the slope that leads down into that pit.

See also comment on hebrews 6:4–6; 2 peter 2:20; 1 john 5:16–17.

11:30 Did Jericho’s Walls Really Collapse?

See comment on joshua 6:20.

11:31 Was Rahab Right to Lie?

See comment on joshua 2:4–6.

12:15 What Is the Bitter Root?

We all know the truth that “suffering produces perseverance” and other Christian virtues (Rom 5:3), but at the same time we know people who have experienced suffering or sickness (which are treated as quite different categories in Scripture)12 [12

See Peter H. Davids, “Sickness and Suffering in the New Testament,” in C. Peter Wagner and F. Douglas Pennoyer, eds., Wrestling with Dark Angels (Ventura, Calif.: Regal, 1990), pp. 215–37.] and have become bitter rather than better due to the experience. Bitterness, to be sure, is no Christian virtue, even if it is at times overlooked in people of faith (see Ruth 1:20–21 for the example of Naomi). It is not addressed directly in Scripture, except possibly in this one verse, Hebrews 12:15. Yet this text still raises a number of issues. What is a “bitter root”? Does it have anything to do with the vice of bitterness? Why is it connected to missing “the grace of God”?

And how does it “defile many”?

A frequent interpretation of this verse is that it simply warns against bitterness or

“bitter root judgments.” Since the term “bitter” appears in the verse and all of us know individuals who have for one reason or another become bitter, such an interpretation sounds reasonable. The verse, then, would rightly point out that such attitudes (and the judgments of others that flow from them, like poison seeping out of a festering wound) can injure those who hold them, blocking these people from the many good things God has for them. In addition, it can injure the whole Christian community, infecting it with a fractious negativity and smearing the character of its leaders. Such observations have been made by most pastoral leaders. The question is whether the author has these observations in mind.

The answer to that question must be no. The context of the passage in Hebrews 12 is that of holding on to the faith despite difficulties. Where commitment has grown weak, it is to be strengthened; the “lame” in the community are to be healed; “level paths” are to be made for their feet (Heb 12:12–13). The “level paths” (from Prov 4:26) are the ways of holiness without which no one will see God (Heb 12:14). Having called for a firm commitment, the author continues with a series of warnings. Esau, an irreligious man,13 [13 While the biblical Esau was not, strictly speaking, a fornicator, he did marry Hittite wives (Gen 26:34–35), which is commented upon negatively. Both intermarriage with non-Hebrew people and the use of temple prostitutes connected fornication to apostasy, the serving of other gods. In extrabiblical traditions both Esau and his wives are viewed as sexually immoral: see Jubilees 25:1, 8; Palestinian Targum on Genesis 25:29; Genesis Rabba 70d, 72a; Exodus Rabba 116a. Whatever the connection (or lack of it) to Esau, the author is clearly against all sexual misconduct (Heb 13:4).] had an inheritance and lost it, being unable afterward to regain what he had so lightly sold. Israel was disciplined severely at Mount Sinai for their disobedience, but the Christians to whom Hebrews is addressed have come to an even more glorious place and therefore will be so much more severely disciplined if they reject God. What might they be in danger of rejecting?

They might reject the message of the author, who is calling for them to hold fast to Christ and not abandon him in apostasy.

The phrase “bitter root” is an Old Testament allusion, for it is very similar to a phrase in the Greek version of the Old Testament, the version normally quoted by the author of Hebrews. In Deuteronomy 29:18 we read, “Make sure there is no [person] among you today whose heart turns away from the Lord our God to go and worship the gods of those nations; make sure there is no root among you that produces such bitter poison.” By comparing the two contexts, we see the point the author is making. To

miss or fall short of the “grace of God” is the equivalent of turning away from the Lord in the Old Testament. Simply put, it means apostasy, a failure to commit oneself to God’s grace. Such an apostate is a “bitter root” or, to use the Old Testament phrase, a

“root that produces bitter poison.” Just as one apostate in Israel could influence many neighbors to serve gods other than Yahweh, so one apostate among these Christians could lead others to forsake their faith. This, then, is the meaning of the text within its context.

Bitterness is not good. It is, in fact, a form of anger (that is, a nursed anger that has been allowed to smolder within), a topic about which the New Testament has much to say (see Gal 5:20; Jas 1:19). It can also be a characteristic of jealousy, which is condemned in James 3:14. Thus, if bitterness is broken down into its root vices, one will discover that Scripture has a lot to say about it. But this passage is not about bitterness; it is about apostasy. If bitterness is not good, apostasy is devastating. It means missing the grace of God and coming into judgment before the God who is “a consuming fire” (Heb 12:29).

James

1:2 Are Christians Masochists?

The term trials used in this verse means a “test,” and it is often translated “temptation”

in other contexts. The trials in this case are the tests of faith that come from low-grade persecution from outside the church and from conflict within it. This is hardly a situation in which one would expect to have joy. How then can James argue that we should consider it “pure joy”? Is he some type of masochist? Is it necessary for Christians to deny pain and smile all the time? Our humanity cries out for an honest explanation of such questions, for to deny the reality of pain is a denial of our being human.

James 1:2–4 does not stand alone. It parallels similar sayings in Romans 5:3–5 (“we also rejoice in our sufferings”) and 1 Peter 1:6–7, all of which are “chain sayings” that link together virtues, one leading to the next. The situation pictured in all three of these passages is that of persecution. James and 1 Peter picture the persecution as a test of faith, a trial or temptation (the two authors use the identical phrase). Romans simply calls it “suffering” or “affliction” or “tribulation” (the term, like all terms for suffering, indicates persecution or hardship endured because of the faith, not illness). We know something about the type of persecutions that Paul endured; James’s community appears to be experiencing low-level economic persecution; Peter’s readers have apparently been ostracized from their society and subjected to some violence (although not death). None of these are pleasant situations.

The call to rejoice, however, is not masochistic. Masochism is taking pleasure in pain.

The masochist wants to experience pain because it is the pain that gives this person pleasure. In these passages, however, we are not to rejoice in the pain, but in the future reward beyond the pain. James believes we should rejoice because trials give us an opportunity to develop the virtue of perseverance, which will in turn lead to a mature Christian character. We rejoice like an athlete in a practice session. Athletes may run or lift weights to the point of pain, but all the time their eyes are set on the big race or game. They rejoice not in the enjoyment of the stress but in the knowledge that their

muscles are growing stronger and therefore they will do better when it counts. James is probably dependent upon Jesus: “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven” (Mt 5:11–12). Here we see why character is important: it will be rewarded in heaven. In other words, faithfulness under pressure today earns eternal reward tomorrow. This is seen in the life of Jesus, who “for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame” (Heb 12:2). This is how Christians are to live. As one writer puts it, James is talking about “eschatological anticipated joy.”1 [1 J. J. Thomas, “Anfechtung und Vorfreude,” Kerygma und Dogma 14 (1968): 183–206. I have translated the term eschatologische Vorfreude as “eschatological anticipated joy.”] It is joy not in the present feelings but in the anticipation of praise when one finally stands face to face before Jesus. The joy of that day is tasted in part already in the painful present. Thus Paul and Silas sing in the Philippian jail, not because they enjoyed the beating (although it may have been one reason why they were awake) but because they knew their Lord would more than adequately reward their suffering (Acts 16:25). It is a privilege to suffer for Jesus (Acts 5:41).

This is not to say that we cannot call pain, pain. Paul makes it very clear that he could recognize pain, call it what it is, and experience it with the full depth of human anguish (1 Cor 4:9–13; 2 Cor 4:3–12; 11:23–29). He also left us the example of fleeing from persecution when it was appropriate (Acts 17:10, 13–14). Yet even in such situations he, with James, could look beyond them to “an eternal glory that far outweighs them all” (2 Cor 4:17). We may know less of James’s life, but from the passion in his letter there is no reason to believe that on this point he would have disagreed with Paul. His is a real humanity and depth of feeling, but at the same time he looks beyond the present experience to a transcendent reward.

James, then, is no masochist, but he points to an important truth. Only those who are heavenly minded will suffer for their faith in the present. Those who do not have this anticipated joy invest themselves in the present and avoid disgrace and suffering for Christ, for it could cost them all they have invested themselves in. Those who do have James’s perspective can be reckless in their obedience to Christ, for any price they may pay today will be paid back with interest by their Lord. And it is that smile of pleasure on his face when he greets them that they rejoice in, for they already see it dimly down the halls of time as the Spirit makes it real in their hearts.

1:13 God Does Not Tempt Anyone?

When a person is suffering, it is always a temptation to blame God. After all, is God not sovereign? Doesn’t everything in some sense come from him? Thus James 1:13

pictures a situation in which a person is suffering (being persecuted or experiencing disadvantage due to a commitment to Christ), and this suffering is testing the commitment to God. The question is, Will this person remain faithful to God or disobey him? (The Greek term that is translated “tempted” also can be translated

“tested,” so I will use the two terms interchangeably.) Precisely in such a situation the person might want to blame God. “God, you sent this situation, and it is too hard for me. It is your fault if I give in.”

Paul speaks to just such a concern in 1 Corinthians 10:13. Yet the problem for modern readers is not the situation, but James’s response. How can he say God does not tempt anyone when Genesis 22:1 says, “Some time later God tested [or tempted] Abraham”?

Furthermore, if God cannot be tempted, how could the Scripture speak of Jesus’ being tempted, assuming that the writers believed that he was God? Isn’t this a clear situation of one scriptural author contradicting another?

These problems are related, for both the issue of whether God tests (tempts) anyone and the issue of whether God can be tested call upon the Old Testament testing (tempting) tradition. This tradition begins with Abraham, who is presented as one who is tested and passes the test, God concluding, “Now I know that you fear God, because you have not withheld from me your son, your only son” (Gen 22:12). Later in the Pentateuch, however, Israel is presented as the group that when tested

“disobeyed me and tested me ten times” (Num 14:22). This means that their response to the testing of God in the wilderness (Ex 15:25) was not that of trusting obedience, but that of blaming and demanding (this is what happened at Massah, a name that means “testing” or “tempting”; Ex 17:2, 7). This resulted in commands such as that in Deuteronomy 6:16, “Do not test the Lord your God as you did at Massah.” (Ps 78, 95

and 106 reflect on this tradition.)

James sees the testing situation occurring in his community in these Old Testament terms. His concern is that the believers should be trusting like Abraham; they are not to be as Israel and fail the test by blaming God. James gives two reasons for not blaming God. We can translate the first reason “God ought not to be tested by sinful people,”

instead of the traditional translation “God cannot be tempted by evil.” The Greek word apeirastos, translated “ought not to be tested” (or “cannot be tempted”), is found only once in the New Testament and nowhere else previously in Greek. Later it is found only a very few times in the church fathers. In those later contexts my translation fits as well as or better than the traditional translation. Furthermore, my translation makes better sense in the context in James. It would be hard to see why the fact that God cannot be tempted would make it wrong to claim that he is behind a test, but it is easy to see that “God ought not to be tested” meets the situation, for then the phrase paraphrases Deuteronomy 6:16 and tells them not to blame God as Israel did at Massah, which is the very thing James pictures them doing. This also solves the problem of Jesus’ testing (or temptation), for he was in fact tested by an evil being, which this translation allows to be possible, even if it is a sinful act.

But what about “God does not tempt [test] anyone”? To deal with this problem we must consider the development of doctrine within and between the testaments. Old Testament Hebrews, at least in their earlier period, traced all events directly back to God. Whatever happened, God caused it. This level of revelation was quite appropriate, since God’s first task with Israel was to convince them that there was only one God for them to worship. Beginning late in the Old Testament, however, and continuing into the intertestamental period, it became clear that other beings often actually caused the test. While God, since he is sovereign, could have prevented a given situation,2 [2 The Scripture never asks why God does not prevent certain situations, except in statements such as 2

Peter 3:9, which suggests that his desire for the salvation of as many as possible keeps him from intervening in a drastic way. We human beings, of course, do not know which events God does not prevent because he has some hidden purpose in them and which he does not prevent because to do so would mean to bring the end of the age prematurely. We can speculate on this, but Scripture does not enter into our speculation.] he did not instigate every event. This development is seen clearly in Scripture by comparing preexilic (or early exilic) 2 Samuel 24:1, which reads,

“[God] incited David against them,” with the postexilic 1 Chronicles 21:1, which says,

“Satan … incited David.” The later book shows a more complex picture. It does not deny the previous model, but it admits that the model that traces all events directly to God leaves out details and complexities that later revelation fills in.

The Jews took their clue from such examples of development in Scripture and understood many other Old Testament Scriptures in this same way. For example, in Jubilees 17:15–18:16 the story of Abraham is retold in terms similar to Job. (Job is a later book that, with Chronicles, fits into the period when Judaism knew more about Satan than it did before the exile.) In Jubilees the Prince Mastema (Satan) comes to God and demands that he test Abraham (whom God knows has already proved faithful in many tests). The test, then, does not originate with God, but with Satan.

This appears to be James’s position. In his concluding call to remain faithful to God under pressure, James says, “Resist the devil” (Jas 4:7). Satan is the one who is behind the test. This belief is simply stated, not argued. Even in his earlier passage (Jas 1:13) James does not have to explain this to his readers, for they share with him the same theology. So he can simply remind them of the fact in one line, “God does not test [or tempt] anyone.” It is not God who wills ill to people and tries to make them fall; it is Satan. It was not God who wished to do evil to Abraham, but the devil. Therefore rather than blame God (who gives only good gifts, Jas 1:17), Christians should look within at their own desires, which make them vulnerable to the Satanic test and lure them to fall (Jas 1:14). Having seen this, they should stand firm, thus resisting the devil, the ultimate mastermind behind all temptation. Not only is this position good for James’s day, but it warns against the same danger of blaming God and gives the same strategy for standing in the test that is appropriate for today.

1:17 Does God Change?

See comment on genesis 6:6; 1 samuel 15:29; jonah 4:1–2.

2:5–7 God Chose the Poor?

See comment on james 5:1.

2:24 Justified by What You Do?

Ever since Martin Luther, Christians have struggled with putting James 2:24 together with such statements of Paul’s as “we maintain that a man is justified by faith apart from observing the law” (Rom 3:28). It appears at first glance that James is advocating a justification through works and Paul one through faith. This impression grows when we realize that each cites the example of Abraham to support his argument. Are these two authors opposed to one another? Must we choose between the two for our theology? Was Luther correct that James is an “epistle of straw” that contradicts Paul’s essential insight into the gospel?

The answer to all of these questions is no. A surface reading of James and Paul is apt to miss what both authors were saying. Therefore, we must examine each of the critical terms in the verse in James: faith, works and justified.

The first term James and Paul have in common is faith. In James 2:19, the author gives a clear definition of what he means by “faith alone”: “Do you believe that God is one?”

This is not only the basic creed of Judaism (Deut 6:4) but also a truth about God that Jews believed Abraham discovered. It is orthodoxy, but in James it is an orthodoxy

totally separated from obedience (“You have faith; I have deeds,” Jas 2:18), an orthodoxy that demons have as well. Elsewhere James gives a different definition of faith. The faith of James 1:6 and 2:1 is that of personal commitment, which includes trust and obedience; in contrast, the faith that James sees his opponents claiming in James 2:14–26 is orthodoxy without acton.

Paul also has a definition of faith, which he gives in Romans 10:9–10. Faith means a commitment to a living Lord Jesus and a confession that “Jesus is Lord.” This is similar to the relational trust type of faith that James refers to in chapter 1. In Galatians 5:6, Paul goes on to state that in Christ the issue is not one of Jewish rituals (circumcision), but of “faith working through love” (RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] ). This faith-love pairing is not accidental, for it occurs repeatedly in Paul (see 1 Cor 13:13; 1 Thess 1:3; 3:6). Love, of course, is not a feeling or emotion, but loving action, that is, deeds or works. For Paul, then, faith is a commitment to Jesus as Lord that results in a life of love. If the love is lacking (as “the deeds to the flesh” or

“unrighteousness” show), then such a person is no heir of God’s kingdom (1 Cor 6:9–

10).

Since James (in Jas 2:14–26) and Paul are using different definitions of faith, it is not surprising that they use the example of Abraham differently. For Paul (in Rom 4 and Gal 3), the critical issue is that Abraham was declared righteous in Genesis 15:6, which comes chronologically before the institution of circumcision in Genesis 17. Since ritual law is the issue for Paul, as we will see below, the fact that Genesis 15 comes after significant acts of obedience by Abraham (such as leaving Haran to journey to Palestine) is no problem. For James, on the other hand, the critical issue is that the declaration of actual righteousness in Genesis 22:12 shows that the faith referred to in Genesis 15:6 is not mere orthodoxy but a trust leading to actual righteous deeds, so that “[his] faith worked together with his deed and the faith was completed by the deeds” (Jas 2:22). In other words, the two men come at the Abraham narrative from different directions, using different definitions of faith, and as a result argue for complementary rather than contradictory conclusions.

The second term James and Paul share is “works” or “deeds,” the Greek word ergon.

In the verse cited above (seen against the wider context of Jas 2:14–26), James is clearly arguing for certain works. The two deeds he cites are (1) Abraham’s offering of Isaac and (2) Rahab’s hospitality to the spies. Within the epistle he mentions other acts of charity and the control of language. These fit well with Abraham’s act, for in Jewish eyes this offering was the culmination of a lifetime of obedience to God and charity toward others. The fact that Isaac was not sacrificed was seen as a declaration of Abraham’s righteousness.3 [3 For further information on this, see R. B. Ward, “The Works of Abraham: James 2:14–26,” Harvard Theological Review 61 (1968): 238–90, and Peter H. Davids, Commentary on James, New International Greek Testament Commentary (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1982), pp. 126–32.] Furthermore, Rahab’s hospitality, like some of Abraham’s actions, was viewed as an act of charity. We are not surprised, then, to discover that charity is the issue that begins the argument leading to James 2:14–17. Thus the works James is arguing for are good deeds (charitable acts, generosity).

Paul is clearly against certain works as a means of becoming righteous, but the works he is against are “the works of the law,” a phrase also found in the Dead Sea Scrolls, but never used by James. The “of the law” is always present, at least in the near context, when Paul speaks negatively of works. What are these deeds? The principal one Paul mentions is circumcision, although he also speaks of the observance of

(Jewish) holy days and (Jewish) dietary laws. In other words, while Paul never mentions charity and other good deeds in these negative contexts, he is against those cultic acts of the Mosaic law that set apart a Jew from a Gentile. This fits the context of the Pauline letters, for the issue he is facing is that some Jewish Christians are demanding that the Gentile believers become proselytes to Judaism to be saved. Paul denies there is any such need to become Jewish, although there is a need to become godly.4 [4 See further J. D. G. Dunn, “The New Perspective on Paul,” Bulletin of the John Rylands University Library of Manchester 65 (1983): 96–122, or the discussion of the relevant passages in J. D. G. Dunn, Romans 1–8, Word Biblical Commentary (Dallas: Word, 1988).]

There is, then, no real conflict between James and Paul on the issue of works. Just as his use of “faith” is different from James’s, so is Paul’s use of “works” different. Not only does Paul always use a phrase James never uses, but in places such as Galatians 5:19–21 he can list evil deeds (similar to James’s list in 3:14–16) and then say, “I warn you [now] as I did [earlier] that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.” Paul will not separate moral righteousness from eternal salvation.

Perhaps the most misunderstood of the three terms used in common by James and Paul is the Greek word group including dikaiosyneµ (“righteousness”), dikaioµsis (“justification”) and dikaiooµ (“declare righteous,” or “justify”). The usual meaning of these words in the Septuagint is actual righteousness or a declaration of such righteousness (for example, Rom 1:17; 2:13). James invariably uses these traditional meanings (he never uses dikaioµsis). Paul, on the other hand, often writes of God’s making a sinner righteous (justifying a sinner, Rom 3:24) or of a righteousness obtained by Christ’s being given to the sinner (Rom 5:17) or of the resulting state (justification, Rom 4:25; 5:18).

The Pauline meaning (of which James may well have been ignorant) has dominated Protestant thinking since the Reformation and has been read into James by many translations (as the KJV [KJV King James Version] , RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] and NIV [NIV New International Version] all do in Jas 2). This creates an artificial conflict between James and Paul. James, on the one hand, is asking how God knew Abraham was righteous when he made the statement in Genesis 22:12 and how the reader can know that the faith in Genesis 15:6 was a trust that actually made Abraham righteous. The answer is—from his deeds. And without such deeds any claim of righteousness or of faith is empty. Paul, on the other hand, is pointing out that both Jews and Gentiles are equally short of God’s standard of righteous judgment, and thus the issue is how God will make the unrighteous righteous. The answer is—not through cultic ritual but through commitment to (faith in) Jesus Christ. The two authors use their terms in different ways because they address different issues.

It is clear, then, that James and Paul are moving in two different worlds. In James’s world Jewish ritual is not an issue (perhaps because all of those in his church are Jews), but ethics is. His problems are with those who claim to be right with God on the basis of their orthodoxy although they are ignoring obedience issues, especially charity.

Abraham and Rahab, in contrast to the demons, demonstrate that saving faith is seen in its deeds. Paul, on the other hand, is concerned about the relationship of Jews and Gentiles in the church. His concern is that commitment to Jesus as Lord is all that is necessary for salvation. A Gentile does not have to become a Jew to enter the kingdom; those ritual deeds that marked the Jew are unnecessary. In the places where Paul does address the issue of whether a person can enter the kingdom while living in sin, he emphatically denies this is possible, agreeing with James.

Paul himself realized that he was at times misunderstood. Some misinterpreted his denial that legal ritual was needed for salvation, making it into an argument that ethical issues were irrelevant to salvation (Rom 3:8; 6:1; 1 Cor 6:12). Paul strongly repudiated these people. It is unclear whether James was contending with an orthodoxy-without-deeds rooted in Judaism (such as rabbis would later attack) or a misunderstood Paulinism (such as Paul himself attacked). Both are possible backgrounds. It is clear that James is not attacking any actual belief of Paul’s, but that Paul could endorse everything James wrote, although given his differing use of vocabulary, Paul would not have said it the same way.

This verse, then, remains hard, but it is hard because its teaching is uncomfortable.

God is concerned with our deeds, and they are related to whether or not we enter the kingdom. It is not hard because there is any conflict between this teaching and Paul’s.

The two merely sound contradictory rather than are contradictory. In fact, a lot of the apparent contradiction is due to the misunderstanding of Paul found in Luther and perpetuated by those who fail to put Paul into his proper Jewish background.

If James is dealing with a misunderstood Paulinism, then, it is probable that the sermon in James 2:14–26 comes from a period before he met Paul, for it is likely that once they discussed the gospel together James would have cited Paul’s own words against anyone who claimed Paul as an authority for such a twisted doctrine as James is countering.

The James-Paul issue, then, is partially a misunderstanding of Paul (stemming from the fact that Luther was concerned with earning his salvation through penance and pious deeds rather than with Jewish ritual, thus a reading of Luther into Paul) and partially a problem of reading Paul into James. In reality, the writings of James and Paul demonstrate a relative harmony, combined with differing spheres of ministry and thus differing perspectives (which are apparent in Galatians and Acts).

2:25 Was Rahab Right to Lie?

See comment on joshua 2:4–6.

4:4 Friendship with the World Is Hatred Toward God?

James seems to argue in James 4:4 that one cannot love God and at the same time, for example, have a career. Is this advocating some type of otherworldly Christianity?

Does not the Scripture teach that God loves the world? Should not we also?

The language of this verse is very direct. James literally calls his readers “adulteresses”

(a fact obscured by the NIV [NIV New International Version] translation). This does not mean that he is addressing only women, but that he wants us to see that he is borrowing language from the Old Testament. The Old Testament pictures Israel as God’s bride, who at the same time wanted to enjoy other “lovers,” finding security in other gods and imperial powers (see Is 1:21; Jer 3; Hos 1–3). Given the New Testament bride-of-Christ language (2 Cor 11:2; Eph 5:22–24; Rev 19; 21), borrowing this language for the New Testament is quite appropriate. The “other lover” in this case is “the world”; that is, the values and goals of their culture.

The Christians whom James is addressing wanted to be successful and gain status in the world’s eyes, while at the same time they were followers of Jesus. This parallels what Israel did in trying to serve both Yahweh and Baal. Israel, and especially the kingdom of Judah, never planned to give up the worship of Yahweh. All of his feasts were duly celebrated, his sacrifices made. The priests were employed to ensure this.

But at the same time the people served Baal (and other gods), even erecting their altars in the courts of Yahweh’s temple. Likewise these Christians were struggling for worldly status even within the church (Jas 4:1–2; compare Jas 2:2–4).

Jesus pictured a similar situation when he said, “No one can serve two masters. …

You cannot serve both God and Money” (Mt 6:24). The issue is not how well one can serve this or that master, but that one cannot serve them both. It is impossible. It is impossible first of all because one has only so much emotional energy. If you are deeply invested in the values of your culture, you cannot have enough energy left over to have a similar investment in God and his values. If you are invested in God,5 [5 Being invested in God does not necessarily mean being busy in church work. It would mean spending enough time in the presence of God to learn from him what priorities he has for one’s life. See Joyce Huggett, The Joy of Listening to God (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 1986) and Peter Lord, Hearing God (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Baker, 1988). Church work itself often can be simply more worldly business, a way to gain status or one’s personal ends in another sphere.] you do not at the same time have the energy left to value what the surrounding culture values. We display what we value in our use of time, energy and money. All are in limited supply. All are placed at the disposal of what one is emotionally invested in. If these treasures go to one place, they cannot go to another.

Second, it is impossible to serve two because both are jealous lovers. Throughout the Old Testament, God presents himself as the one who demands exclusive loyalty. He is a husband who will not share his wife with anyone else, even if the sharing only happens when he is off at work! Likewise Baal (or whatever other god) demands more and more. What begins as a both-and arrangement slowly erodes into a Baal-only arrangement as Baal takes so much energy that the worship of Yahweh begins to be neglected. In the New Testament Jesus points to God’s exclusive demand when he speaks about taking up one’s cross and following him (see Mt 10:38). The person going out to execution on the cross has invested all—wealth, reputation, even life itself—in the cause for which he is dying; there is no future separate from that cause. It is this same total commitment to which Jesus calls all of his followers. For this reason the New Testament does not talk about a tithe—God wants it all (see 2 Cor 8:2–5).6 [6

For further reading, see John White, Magnificent Obsession (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 1976, 1990), especially chap.

2.]

James is doing nothing more than calling his readers to a similar total commitment. In the preceding verses we discover that the readers have been using two means to get what they want. First, they struggle with each other, perhaps including vying for power within the Christian community. Second, they pray. But, adds James, they receive no answers to their prayers. This is because they are trying to use God to gain their own ends. God becomes the “sugar daddy” to fulfill their desires, but it is desire, not God, that they are really serving. Both strategies, that of struggle and that of manipulative prayer, show that they are invested in the world. The one is clearly a direct and open struggle, while the other sounds very pious; the underlying commitments and results are the same. When push comes to shove they are committed to their cultural values, not to God.

Our verse, then, is a warning. They have become God’s enemies by their commitment to the world. Is there any hope? The next verse tells us that God is indeed jealous, but

then James goes on to point out that God gives grace to the humble. Yes, there is hope if they will humble themselves and repent. God is ready to give them grace.

Can one have a career and serve God? James’s answer is no. The career or vocation of every Christian is to serve God. One might serve God within a given career, but the career must not be where one’s heart is invested if the person is indeed serving God (and not God’s enemy). How can we tell the difference? Watch what happens when there is a conflict of values. (The conflict can come over issues of personal morality, but more often comes over issues of corporate morality and goals or over the issue of commitment to the job, such as whether one will agree to a transfer.) Does the person compromise and do what is expected by the corporate (or academic or professional) culture? Or does the person lose status on the job by refusing to compromise? This decision shows clearly whom they are really serving. Is this, then, an otherworldly lifestyle? James’s answer is yes. By this he would not mean that one does not have a very down-to-earth practical effect on this world (especially since caring for the poor is a very important part of his message), but that all of one’s life and lifestyle is determined by a commitment to Christ. The only reward that really counts is that which comes from Christ. The values that a person values are Christ’s values. For James this is not a special level of Christianity; it is Christianity pure and simple.

This saying in James is hard, but not because it is that difficult to understand. It means just what it says. The problem is that we with our divided hearts find what it means very uncomfortable. Here, however, James is just as uncompromising and just as realistic as his master, Jesus.

See also comment on matthew 6:24; james 5:1; 1 john 2:15.

5:1 Woe to the Rich?

Picture a person walking into an exclusive restaurant near Bay Street or Wall Street where the corporate elite dine and crying out, “Hey, you rich folk, weep and wail because of your misery!” This is the incongruity that appears in James 5:1, which begins a six-verse condemnation of the rich. Such a condemnation immediately raises the question “Why are these rich people condemned?” Does not God love the wealthy people as well as the poor ones? Are not many wealthy folk just as good Christians as their poorer brothers and sisters?

James already has mentioned the rich, referring to them specifically in James 1:10–11, 2:5–7, and in general terms (without using the word “rich”) in James 2:2–3, 4:13. In none of the references does he say anything good about them. Interestingly, in these latter passages the individuals are members of the Christian community; in the passages where he uses the term “rich,” the people are not Christians. James apparently finds the terms “rich” and “Christian” mutually exclusive.

Why does James not connect the term “rich” to Christians? He is certainly free in calling Christians “the poor” (Jas 1:9; 2:2–3, 5–6). The reason is probably that James is following the teaching of Jesus, who said, “Blessed are you who are poor,” and also,

“But woe to you who are rich” (Lk 6:20, 24). In fact, Jesus indicated that wealth was a stumbling block to entering the kingdom of God—it is only God’s ability to do the impossible that gets wealthy people in (Mk 10:23–27). It is incorrect to try to soften this by saying, “It is impossible for anyone to enter, poor as well as rich. All enter

through a miracle of God,” for Jesus does not say this. He notes that he came especially to preach the gospel to the poor (Lk 4:18), and he tells the poor whom he blesses, “Yours is the kingdom of God” (Lk 6:20). He never says anything like this to the rich.

The key to this distinction is found at the end of his major discourse on wealth in Luke 12:34, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Given that human beings have only a limited amount of emotional energy to invest in anything, to the degree that one is earth-invested, one’s heart is not set on heaven or the love of God.

To have a heart set on heaven will mean placing one’s “treasure” or investments there as well, which normally means giving earthly wealth in charity. Thus when we see God’s miracle in the saving of a rich man, Zacchaeus announces his new-found freedom from wealth before Jesus announces his salvation (Lk 19:1–10).7 [7 This matches John the Baptist’s call to repentance in Luke 3:7–14, which also has an economic focus and also demands repentance before acceptance by God, in his case symbolized by baptism.] Likewise, when the Spirit comes in Acts, the Christians begin to share their possessions with the poor. James is very aware of this gospel tradition and bases his teaching on that of his older brother Jesus.

So the people James is referring to as “the rich” are not believers. That, of course, would be enough to condemn them to hell. But there is another reason that he singles out these particular rich people for such strong condemnation, and that is their treatment of the poor.

There is a progression in the argument in James 5:1–6. First, it notes the uselessness of wealth, described in terms of garments and money. Stored goods deteriorate, as Jesus pointed out (Mt 6:19–20). Since James’s church knows the words of Jesus, James is implying that these people could have had lasting investments had they shared their goods with the poor and thus obtained wealth in heaven. But of course they do not do this, for they are not followers of Jesus and so do not have his values. (Although the wealthy in James’s day would have included the political and religious leaders of the Jewish people, who should have had spiritual values similar to those of Jesus.) Second, their failure to obey the gospel (the teaching of Jesus) will witness against them in the last judgment. Here we find the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Lk 16:19–31) condensed into two clauses. The rich man was probably an observant Jew, but he failed to submit to God in that he had plenty and yet did not help the poor beggar lying at his very gate. So these rich have stored up goods, but it is the “last days,” or end of the age, and the final judgment is coming. Their failure to use their goods for God’s purposes will “eat [their] flesh like fire,” the fire of hell.

Third, they have practiced injustice. The other charges were bad enough, but now we discover that these absentee landlords (a typical rich person in first-century Palestine) have withheld the pay of the reapers. Leviticus 19:13 states, “Do not hold back the wages of a hired man overnight” (compare Deut 24:14–15). The reason for this law was that the poor laborer would immediately spend his wages for food for himself and his family. No pay meant no food. But even though they were reaping and therefore had a harvest to sell, these wealthy people found some reason not to pay their workers, perhaps arguing that they could not afford to sell the crop and pay them until the price was higher. They surely had a “legal” reason, justified by the “rabbinic” interpretations of their day. But God condemned such people in Isaiah 5 (especially Is 5:9–10), and he continues to do so. (Contrast Job in Job 7:1–2; 24:10; 31:13, 38–40.)

Fourth, the rich have been self-indulgent. Feasting is fine if there is enough to go around, but self-indulgence when there are those without is a horrible crime before God. Again we think of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, but we should also note that in the laws for the feasts of the Lord (Deut 16) no one was to appear empty-handed; the typical poor (Levite, widow, orphan, alien) were to feast with those who had means. In his condemnation of indulgence, James sounds like Amos.

Indulgence, of course, was viewed more seriously in James’s world than in ours of the recent past. The first-century Mediterranean cultures believed that there was only a limited amount of goods in the world, so if someone collected more, someone else would have less or go without altogether.8 [8 See B. Malina, The New Testament World (Atlanta: John Knox, 1984). Not all of his arguments are equally convincing, but his demonstration of the concept of “limited goods” is well founded.]

The Western world has behaved as if goods or wealth were limitless and all could be rich if they worked hard enough or were smart enough. Only recently has Western society begun to face limitations and to see that on a global scale, especially when the environment and future generations are taken into account, the first-century view is probably more realistic than ours.

Fifth, these people have oppressed the righteous (“innocent men” in the NIV [NIV

New International Version] ). In the phrase “condemned and murdered,” James probably does not mean that they carried out an illegal activity, but rather that they used the courts to kill. Probably even this killing was not done directly, but through taking away the means of support of the poor through fines or giving judgments in favor of the rich. A peasant who loses his farm or is thrown out of work will soon starve if no other force intervenes. It is all the same to God whether the death is direct or indirect, whether the proceeding is legal or illegal in human terms. In his book it is all murder. That these people were poor Christians (the most likely ones being referred to) makes his judgment that much more certain.

Therefore, James is hardly arbitrary in his condemnation of the rich. Not only are they not Christian, but he has a number of charges against them. Furthermore, prophetic warnings like this one call people to repentance (although the repentance of wealthy people is less likely than that of the poor, according to Scripture), so these people, like those of Nineveh whom Jonah warned, are not outside of God’s love. Yet, before we shake our heads sadly about the rich, we must remember that any one of the five charges is serious enough to bring God’s condemnation. It is not enough to avoid judicial murder and legal oppression if we are living in self-indulgence and storing up what might have been shared. The Christian response to such a condemnation should not be to continue to point the finger, but to “stand firm” in obedience to Christ (Jas 5:8) and pray to be so filled with the Spirit that we will joyfully join with those in Acts who laid up treasures in heaven by sharing with their poorer brothers and sisters. This will provide a model of the virtue that God desires in a world that still practices (and even extols) the vices he condemns.

See also comment on matthew 6:24; mark 10:21; 10:25; james 4:4.

5:12 Do Not Swear?

See comment on matthew 5:34.

5:14–16 Prayer Makes the Sick Well?

“Faith healing” has a bad reputation in much of the church. Many of us have known people who have been mishandled by others who believed in healing. I personally can remember a widow who was told that the only reason her husband had died was that he had failed to have enough faith or he had sinned. Others who have not been abused to that extent have been confidently promised healing but have not in fact been healed.

With this background, James 5:14–16 concerns us, for it appears to many to give support to these very “faith healers” who have abused or misled us or our friends.

James has given us the picture of a person sick in bed. The proper response to this situation, he instructs us, is to call for the elders of the church; they will pray over the person, anointing him or her with oil in the name of the Lord. But how can James say so matter-of-factly that “the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well”?

Did he not have failures in prayer? Does he really mean that elders will have no such failures? And why does he bring in the issue of sin? Did not Jesus deny that sin had anything to do with sickness (Jn 9:1–3)? Isn’t James giving people a basis to load guilt for supposed sin on top of the illness that is already afflicting the person? This passage looks more dangerous than it does pastoral.

Prayer for healing is mentioned frequently in the New Testament. Jesus, of course, healed many (although we never hear him using prayer as a means), and he sent his disciples to do the same. It is they, not Jesus, who anoint with oil (Mk 6:13). Acts continues the acts of Jesus (now being done through the Holy Spirit) and notes numerous healings, beginning just after Pentecost (Acts 3) and continuing to the end of the book (Acts 28:7–10). Paul’s mission and preaching were characterized by miracles (Rom 15:18–19; Paul’s miracles appear to have been mainly healing miracles and demon expulsions), and his converts experienced the same (Gal 3:5). Furthermore, he mentions “gifts of healing” among the gifts of the Spirit (1 Cor 12:9). It is not surprising, then, to find James writing about healing prayer in the close of his letter where a pagan writer would have put in a health wish. (A normal Greek letter of this type characteristically ended with a summary, an oath, a health wish and a purpose statement; Christian versions of all of these occur in James 5.) He is not introducing something unfamiliar to his readers (one did not do that in the closing), but underlining a practice they knew about and shared in common with others in the early church.

While anointing with oil is mentioned in the context of this passage (Jas 5:14), probably as a type of acted prayer,9 [9 The oil is certainly not a medicine, for (1) ancient peoples knew of more types of medicine than oil and would not prescribe a single medication for all ailments, and (2) there was a perfectly good term for

“medicine” in Greek, so there was no need to use “oil” to substitute for a more general term. It is also not sacramental if this term implies virtue in the oil itself, for it is the prayer, not the oil, which heals, although the oil may be part of the praying.] it is clear that the operant force in healing is God’s activity in response to prayer: “the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well.” But this prayer is to be a “prayer offered in faith.” Of course, we would expect the elders to be able to pray in faith, for they were supposed to be the most mature spiritual leaders of the church and should have the most faith. Notice that it is the elders’ faith, not the person’s faith, that is mentioned; there is absolutely no basis in this verse for blaming continuing sickness on a person’s own lack of faith. If anyone is to be blamed, it is the elders, the people who prayed. Faith itself is a commitment or trust in God, like the asking in faith of James 1:6.10 [10 The point in James 1:6 is that one is to ask in childlike trust in God, confident of his character as the God who gives generously. The doubter or “double-minded” person is the person who prays but at the same time has their real confidence in their own skills or ability to manipulate others. They pray more to “make sure” or to “get God’s blessing on our plans” or because it is the pious thing to do than because they really trust God. In James 4:1–5 James points out that these people are really friends of the world and even such prayers are motivated, not by a call of God, but by an attempt to manipulate God to fulfill their own desires.] It is a

personal relationship, not simply an intellectual conviction. It is also a gift of the Spirit (1 Cor 12:9).

So we are not talking about prayer based on an intellectual conviction that God heals; we are talking about praying out of a relationship with God in which the conviction has grown that God will heal, not in the sense that this is the general will of God (which it always is),11 [11 See Peter H. Davids, “Suffering and Sickness in the New Testament,” in C. Peter Wagner and F. Douglas Pennoyer, eds., Wrestling with Dark Angels (Ventura, Calif.: Regal Books, 1990), pp. 215–37.] but in the sense that it is the specific desire of God now. George Müller, famous for his prayers for funds for his orphanages but also known in his day for his prayers for the sick, noted that while he always had faith (in the sense discussed here) for funds, only until 1836 did he have faith for healing the sick.12 [12 The reason for this appears to have been a conflict within the Christian Brethren movement, of which he was one of the leaders, over the place of spiritual gifts. Until the late 1830s the Brethren actively sought and expected spiritual gifts. However, around 1836, after J. N. Darby (another leader) reacted negatively to Edward Irving (a pastor who was what we might call a “proto-charismatic”), they abandoned this expectation. Darby then developed the concept of the cessation of spiritual gifts, which has characterized later dispensationalism.] He still continued to pray for the sick and people were often healed, but apparently he no longer did so with the certainty and success that he continued to experience in praying for funds. It was no longer the prayer of faith in that sense. James, like Jesus (Mk 11:22–24), promises that a prayer of faith will be answered. His statement is a straightforward expectation, which must have been the experience of his community.

This prayer does not appear to be of the five-minute variety, for not only is it likely that such prayer would take time, especially time for listening to God, but there appears to have been some discussion of the person’s sins. James is clear that sin is not always the cause of illness. He says, “If he has sinned.” Like Jesus in John 9:1–2, he apparently knows of situations, perhaps many situations, in which sin was not involved. But like Paul in 1 Corinthians 11:30, he knows of other situations in which it was involved. If James 5:16 is any guide to the practice of his community, an opportunity was given under the wise guidance of the elders for self-examination and confession, with prayer for forgiveness (if needed) being included in the prayer for healing.

Most modern people who pray regularly for the sick can give many illustrations of times when resentment or anger or bitterness or other sins were at the root of an illness. It is imporant to James to promise that the sin will be forgiven, not just the sickness healed, for without knowing that the sin (which could not be seen directly) was also removed, the person might fear that it would reappear in yet a worse illness.

In fact, the experience of forgiveness itself has been known to lead to healing without any further prayer about the disease. Conversely there are examples of healing that was short-lived because the person returned to the root sin.

Finally, James notes, “Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed.” Nowhere in his discussion has James mentioned a gift of healing.

Perhaps he expects such gifts of the Spirit to show up when needed in people filled with the Spirit. The focus of his interest is different from Paul’s. But up to this point he has been discussing the activity of the elders called to the bedside of a person who is ill, probably too ill to go to church.

Now he broadens the scope of his teaching. Before a person becomes so ill that the elders must be called, Christians should confess their sins and pray for one another.

Confession of sin keeps the slate clear and prevents sin from being able to cause illness.

Confession to another Christian (presumably one who has some spiritual wisdom and

does not gossip) makes the repentance and confession concrete. It also makes it much harder to rationalize the sin. And it makes the prayer for forgiveness just as concrete.

James does not mention these reasons; he just states the command.

Likewise, prayer for each other before the illness becomes serious is in order. Why wait until the elders must be called? Why should the elders do all of the pastoral ministry? And how else will Christians gain the experience in prayer and the faith that will make them good elders? In case the believer says, “I’m not an elder and so God would hardly listen to me,” James adds, “The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective” (Jas 5:16). All that is needed is to be in harmony with God (righteous), and any Christian can pray with the effects of Elijah.

James is not giving a full treatise on prayer for the sick. There was no need to do so in the early church, for such prayer was their practice. It could be observed everywhere; they had not yet learned not to do it. James is just giving a reminder, encouraging them when the Greek letter form gave him opportunity. In doing so he presents a challenge to the modern church to learn what it is to pray the prayer of faith and so to pray effectively in such a way that people are healed, not abused.13 [13 Perhaps the best contemporary book on prayer for healing is Ken Blue, Authority to Heal (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 1987).]

5:20 Saved from Death?

Instead of ending his epistle with a greeting or blessing, James ends with a strange statement. Who is the “sinner” to whom James is referring? And is it the sinner who will be saved from death, or the one saving him or her? And from what type of death will the person be saved? Are we still in danger of eternal death if we sin, or is James saying that sin can lead to physical death?

The verse is in fact very significant. James is written in a typical Greek letter form. It was customary to end such a letter with a summary (Jas 5:7–11), an oath (Jas 5:12), a health wish (Jas 5:13–18) and a purpose statement (Jas 5:19–20). This verse, then, should be part of the statement of the purpose of the whole letter. That in itself is reason enough to assign it great importance.

The condition this verse speaks to is described in James 5:19. A Christian (“one of you”) has erred. James gives us plenty of illustrations of this in the letter. The errors he addresses are those of partiality and greed, of anger and jealousy. All of them are found within the church. Such error calls for another Christian (“someone”) to point it out so that the person can repent and be restored (“bring him back”). That, of course, is what the entire letter is about, bringing the Christians he addresses back to proper Christian behavior. This is indeed the purpose statement of James. Therefore the sinner in this verse is a Christian who has fallen into sin, such as greed or criticism of others.

This Christian brother or sister has erred or gone the wrong way—the text is not talking about an individual sin, however “serious” we may consider it, from which the believer quickly repents. As Jesus points out in Matthew 7:13–14 (which may be the word of Jesus that James is applying here), there are two ways. The way that leads to life is narrow and difficult, while the one leading to death is broad and easy.

Unfortunately there are many ways to get from the narrow to the broad way. This Christian (the sinner) has taken one of them and is observed by another, whom we shall call the rescuer. The question is, Who is saved from death—the sinner or the rescuer? Ezekiel 3:18–21 is a discourse on the responsibility of the rescuer. If someone

sees a person fall into sin and sits by and does nothing, the sinner will indeed receive the results of the sin, but the potential rescuer will be held guilty of the sinner’s blood.

In the Old Testament such guilt usually cost the person his life. On the other hand, the rescuer who tries to warn the sinner is free of any guilt, whatever decision the sinner makes. This is certainly the message of Ezekiel (Ezek 33:9; compare 1 Tim 4:16), but is it the message of James?

It seems to me that James’s message is that the sinner is the one rescued from death by the rescuer’s efforts. There are four reasons for this. First, the fact that sins are covered (an adaptation of Prov 10:12: “Love covers all wrongs”) seems to refer to the sinner’s sins, not the potential sin of the rescuer. Only the sinner has erred in the context. Second, the word order in the Greek text makes it more likely that it is the sinner who is delivered from death. Third, the very picture of turning a person from his wandering way (a rather woodenly literal translation that brings out James’s imagery) suggests that it is the error that is putting the individual in danger of death. The rescuer is presumably safe (although potentially in error, if he or she fails to help the erring Christian).

What, then, is the death that the person is saved from? Certainly sin can lead to physical death in the New Testament, as shown by the deaths of Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5:1–11), as well as by Paul’s statement in 1 Corinthians 11:30 (compare 1 Cor 5:5). Moreover, in James 5:15–16 we discover that sin may be involved in the illnesses of Christians. Could this be what James is referring to? By turning a sinner from their error a person is saved from physical death, their sins being forgiven?

Attractive as this solution is, it is not the most likely interpretation of the passage. The fact that each of the units of James 5:7–20 is separate and dictated by the letter form means that we should look to the body of the letter (and the call to repentance in Jas 4:1–10) rather than to the “health wish” (Jas 5:13–18) for the meaning of “death” in this verse. Both testaments view death as the end result of sin, usually referring to death in terms of eternal death or condemnation at the last judgment (Deut 30:19; Job 8:13; Ps 1:6; 2:12; Jer 23:12; Jude 23; Rev 20:14). James has already mentioned this in James 1:15: desire gives birth to sin, which results in death. That death is contrasted with the life that God gives (Jas 1:18). Since death and life are parallel ideas, it is likely that they are not physical but eternal (or eschatological, to use the more technical term). This parallel, plus the seriousness of the tone in James 5, indicates that it is this sort of death, the ultimate death that sin brings about, which is in view. What James is saying, then, is that a Christian may err from the way of life.14 [14 Neither James nor the rest of the New Testament is concerned to answer the speculative question “How could a Christian who had eternal life lose it?” All of the theological answers given are based on various theological assumptions and either deny the meaning of the various texts (such as

“The Christian does not really die eternally, but simply loses his or her reward”) or explain the texts according to their theological beliefs (such as the Calvinist “They appeared to be Christian, but their lack of perseverance shows that they were not really regenerate,” or the Arminian “Yes, people can fall away from the faith and be lost”). James, like all New Testament writers, is not interested in theological neatness, but in pastoral concern. He simply sees the situation (a Christian on the wrong way), recognizes the danger (death) and goes to the rescue, rather than asks how it fits into his theology. So while theological responses are appropriate in their place, we ought not to expect a New Testament writer to select among them.] When another Christian attempts to rescue him or her, it is not a hopeless action. Such a rescue effort, if successful, will deliver that erring person from eternal death. That is because the sins will be covered (the language is that of the Old Testament sacrifice; when atonement was made the sin was said to be covered as if literally covered by the blood). It may be one simple action of rescue, but it can lead to the covering of “a multitude of sins.” In stating this, James shows his own pastor’s heart and encourages all Christians to follow in his footsteps, turning their erring brothers and sisters back from the way of death.

1 Peter

1:9 Salvation: Past, Present or Future?

Evangelical Christians frequently speak of being “saved.” In other words, it is easy for them to speak of having received salvation at some point in the past, when they committed themselves to Jesus as Lord. But does this language fit with that of 1 Peter?

Peter appears to be speaking of salvation as a goal, an end result, not as something already possessed. Does this mean that salvation is uncertain?

Peter uses the term salvation four times in his first epistle (1 Pet 1:5, 9–10; 2:2); he refers to being saved three more times (1 Pet 3:20–21; 4:18). One of these references is to a present process of salvation (1 Pet 3:21, the subject of a later chapter), and the rest refer to a future salvation (except 1 Pet 3:20, which refers to Noah’s salvation). In 1 Peter salvation will not be revealed until the last time (1 Pet 1:5). It comes after the end of the present process of suffering for Jesus (1 Pet 4:19). Therefore it is something that one can grow up into (1 Pet 2:2; not “in” as NIV [NIV New International Version] ). In other words, Peter is relatively consistent in viewing salvation as something future.

It is true that the New Testament sometimes speaks of salvation in the past tense. Jude 3, for example, speaks about “the salvation we share,” and Titus 3:5 states, “He saved us through the washing of rebirth.” Acts 15:11; Romans 8:24; Ephesians 2:5, 8; and 2

Timothy 1:9 also speak of salvation in the past tense. But these are a minority of the references to the term in the New Testament. It is far more common to speak of salvation as a present process (1 Cor 1:18; 2 Cor 2:15) or a future event (Rom 5:9–10; 10:9; 11:26; 13:11; 1 Cor 3:15; 15:2; 2 Cor 7:10; Phil 1:28; 1 Thess 5:8–9; 1 Tim 4:16; Heb 1:14; 9:28; 10:39). While some may argue with the categorization of this or that verse, the general trend is evident in these lists of passages. Salvation may be thought of in terms of a past event, but normally it is viewed as a future event.

This focus on the future has to do with the very nature of salvation. All of the verses that speak of salvation as past focus on the basis for salvation, which is Jesus’ death appropriated by commitment to him (faith), not human rituals, even those in the Old Testament. But most of the verses speak of the reality of salvation, and that is future.

Salvation means deliverance from some danger. When the term is used theologically, it means the danger of condemnation in the final judgment (Rom 5:8–9). Since that is the nature of the danger, then the salvation cannot become actual until the final judgment happens. Until that point the Christian has hope of salvation (1 Pet 1:3), but not the salvation itself. By “hope,” of course, Peter does not mean an “I hope so” type of hope, but a confident expectation that something will happen. It is the type of hope one has for graduation when the registrar of the school has already indicated that the requirements have been met and one’s place in the graduating party reserved.

Salvation, then, is a goal. It is what Christians are moving toward. According to 1

Peter it begins with baptism (1 Pet 3:21), but it is finally revealed only in “the last time” (1 Pet 1:5). The mark of those who are “being saved” is their remaining firm in the faith under pressure.

Should evangelical language be revised? It would not be a bad idea to regain the

balance of Scripture. In speaking of salvation almost exclusively as a past event there is a loss of two things. First, there is the loss of a sense of the last judgment. That creates a lack of seriousness about judgment, which no New Testament author had. Second, there is a loss of the sense of tentativeness. It is not those who “make a decision for Christ” (which is not a New Testament term), but those who “stand firm to the end”

(Mt 10:22; 24:13; Mk 13:13) who will be saved. Historically, theologians have expressed this in two ways. In the Wesleyan tradition, salvation is truly tentative and may be lost, while in the Reformed tradition, God assures that those whom he has truly regenerated will in fact endure (persevere) But both traditions accurately reflect the biblical stress that it is not a one-time decision, even if long ignored, that brings salvation, but a commitment to Christ lived out through obedience to the end of life.

Salvation is fully certain, but only for those who are now living life in obedience to Christ. While we must not forget the basis for our salvation and totally stop referring to our having been saved (past) by the death of Christ on the cross, it would be helpful for language about salvation to reflect the tentativeness and sense of the final judgment observed in the New Testament. Then, with 1 Peter, people will look forward to salvation more as a goal than as a past event.

See also comment on philippians 2:12–13; 3:10–11; 2 peter 1:10; 2:20.

2:13–14 Submitting to Government?

See comment on romans 13:1–7.

2:18 Slavery Approved?

See comment on ephesians 6:5–8.

3:6 Call Your Husband Master?

Is Peter teaching that women should refer to their husbands as if the women were the slaves and the men were their owners? Isn’t the expression “master” offensive and demeaning to the woman? And what does not giving way to fear have to do with such a situation? Is Peter setting women up for second-class status and abuse?

The passage in 1 Peter is referring to Genesis 18:12, in which Sarah laughs and says to herself, “After I am worn out and my master is old, will I now have this pleasure [of having a child]?” The point is that Sarah (perhaps even in her thoughts) refers to her husband as “my lord” (not “my master”),1 [1 The translation “my master” in the NIV is unfortunate in that it implies that Peter is thinking about women as slaves. In fact, he is following the Greek translation of the Old Testament in using kyrios, or “lord,” which may mean simply the respectful “sir” or could imply superior status such as “my lord” would imply in traditional British usage. When Peter refers to the master of a slave, however, he uses a different term, despoteµs (1 Pet 2:18).]

showing a proper respect toward him. The irony is that in the context, while appearing to respect Abraham, she is laughing at the words of Yahweh himself; Peter, however, like most New Testament authors, is not concerned with the context, only with the single use of the term.

But what is the context in 1 Peter? The passage is addressed to upper-class Christian women with unbelieving husbands (a far more common situation in that culture than that of Christian husbands with unbelieving wives). These women are advised to be

subject to their husbands, for it is their virtuous behavior that will convert them, not their arguments for Christianity or their fancy dress (the fact that fancy dress was possible points to their being upper-class women; peasant women typically had one decent set of clothing and virtually no expensive jewelry). Such submission was also the mark of “the holy women,” that is, the Old Testament women, of whom Sarah is the chief. This submission will mark these Christian women out as being themselves holy (Sarah’s children).

Notice what is not said. First, it is not being implied that this submission extends to giving up the practice of the Christian faith or compromising the standards of holy living laid down by Jesus. These women are to continue to “hope in God” and “do what is right.” Their husbands, being unconverted, may in fact threaten them with punishment or divorce, demanding that they not go to the church gatherings or that they practice something Christ has forbidden, but these women are not to “give way to fear.” Suffering for the name of Christ is honored in 1 Peter. Yet like all of those to whom 1 Peter is written, they should suffer because they are committed to Christ, not because they have broken cultural standards of which Christ would approve.

In other words, what we see here is that the submission of these women is not to be absolute. They have submitted to Christ first of all. That is the one absolute submission. Now they follow him and submit to their husbands. Their culture demanded absolute submission to their husbands, including in matters of religion. This epistle is calling for them to take an independent stand on religion and morality, but to be model wives in every other way, which means that Christ would not be blamed for what was not truly the result of obedience to him.

Second, this pattern is not presented as the ideal for Christian marriage. Only in 1 Peter 3:7, as we shall see in the next chapter, does the author get around to discussing Christian marriage. Given that he has so little to say about it, it is likely that either such marriages were not a problem or that they were relatively rare in the communities he is addressing. In a Christian marriage the wife is an heir with her husband “of the gracious gift of life.” In other words, she is an equal partner in the gospel. The husband is to give her honor and treat her with consideration, “so that nothing will hinder your prayers.”

In 1 Peter 3:1 Peter is doing three things. First, he is presenting an evangelistic strategy. People are won to Christ not by words alone and certainly not by rebellion, but by living to the fullest pagan virtue (when it is consistent with Christian virtue), so that the non-Christian will see that the effect of Christ in one’s life is to make one able to live the ideals that pagans could write about but rarely live.

Second, he is noting that the normal Christian position is the way of submission. No New Testament writer has a problem with submission, for it is what Jesus practiced, as Peter points out in 1 Peter 2:23. Liberation in the New Testament comes from the powerful giving up power, the wealthy sharing their wealth, not by the oppressed demanding their rights or the poor their share of the pie. The effect of the Spirit is seen in the act of giving up, not that of demanding. Thus Sarah’s action shows an attitude consistent with New Testament virtue. This was especially important, given the role possibilities for women in that day.

Third, he is following the pattern Paul described in 1 Corinthians 5:12–13 (and illustrates in 1 Cor 7:12–16), that Christians should not try to impose their standards

on non-Christians. After all, such people do not have the power of the Spirit to follow Christian standards. Thus this passage does not address the behavior of the unbelieving husband, only that of the wife. She alone can show Christian virtue. She can hope that her husband will in fact come to faith and, filled with the Spirit, in turn begin to treat her as an equal, as instructed in 1 Peter 3:7.

This passage illustrates the fact that the concept of marriage as an intimate relationship between husband and wife is a relatively modern concept. The Mediterranean culture did not expect emotional intimacy between husband and wife. A man was closest to his mother and siblings; he might also have male friends (the father-son relationship generally was not an emotionally close one). A woman was closest to her children and her siblings, perhaps having other women friends (although women were generally expected to stay at home). The emotional distance between husband and wife in this passage (which the term “lord” certainly indicates) would not have bothered Peter, for while there are a very few examples in Scripture of marital emotional intimacy, it was not a cultural expectation. Likewise, although it may be culturally desirable today, it cannot on biblical grounds be made the essence of marriage. The essence is the publicly sanctioned covenant or commitment of each spouse to the relationship.2 [2 See B.

Malina, The New Testament Word (Atlanta: John Knox, 1984), for a description of Mediterranean culture, and R. Paul Stevens, Married for Good (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 1986), especially the first four chapters, on the concept of what marriage is (the rest of the book works out these and other issues in the context of the marriage pattern of the Western world).]

See also comment on ephesians 5:22; 1 peter 3:7.

3:7 The Weaker Partner?

This passage raises some of the same questions as 1 Peter 3:6, but it is addressed to Christian husbands. In what way is the wife “the weaker partner”? Isn’t this a condescending term? Doesn’t it imply the inferiority of women? And what does being

“considerate” mean? Is this the consideration of a master taking a slave’s desires into account? Finally, why would a failure here hinder people’s prayers? The interesting thing about questions based on this verse is that several translations have interpreted the Greek term in different ways. What is translated “weaker partner” in the NIV [NIV

New International Version] in a more literal translation of the Greek would be “weaker vessel” (as KJV [KJV King James Version] ; compare RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] : “weaker sex”). The translation “weaker vessel” is almost as confusing as the use of the term “vessel” in 1 Thessalonians 4:4. A study of this vocabulary reveals that most likely the author is thinking of the person either as a body that is the vessel for the Spirit (a meaning found in the apostolic fathers) or as a creature created by God (a meaning coming from the parable in Jer 18:1–11). Either of the two meanings declares that the man and the woman are both creatures, but one of them, the woman, is weaker and more vulnerable.

Unlike the later church fathers, Peter is not thinking of the woman as being weaker morally (Rom 5:6 says that all human beings are weak this way, and 1 Peter is close to Paul in its thought) or weak in conscience (Rom 14:1, something Paul never links to sex), for neither of these applies to woman as “vessel” or “creature,” and neither of these applies to woman as over against man. Instead, Peter’s idea must be that the man experiences the woman in the context of most cultures as weaker both physically (and therefore we hear so much of the abuse of women by men) and socially. Physical weakness is clear in that males are on average larger and stronger than women. Social weakness is illustrated in 2 Corinthians 10–13, in which Paul repeatedly speaks of

being socially weak because he was neither imposing to look at nor spoke good Greek (due to his foreign origin); this put him at a social disadvantage and often required that he have a local sponsor. A woman is likewise often disadvantaged the moment people realize that they are dealing with a woman rather than a man, a fact even more true in first-century culture than today.

It is obvious that this weakness, whether physical or social, gave (and still gives) the husband a great advantage in the marriage; he could abuse his wife’s vulnerability. But the topic of this section in 1 Peter, understood from 1 Peter 2:13, is that of submission.

The husband, argues Peter, shows his proper submission by not taking advantage of his wife’s weakness. Instead he is to “live with” her “considerately” or “according to knowledge.” The knowledge referred to is not theoretical knowing about her but personal knowledge, which could form the basis either for exploiting her or for considerate care. The latter is what the Christian husband is to exhibit. This considerate care based upon personal knowledge of one’s wife is to extend to the whole marital realm, for “live with” includes the sexual as well as other areas of the marriage.

Another way Peter expresses this idea is to say that the husband is to treat his wife with “respect” or “honor,” which means that even if the culture does not honor women, he will honor his woman. His honoring her gives her the advantage of his strength in a culture that may be physically abusive and of his status in a culture that might look down on women. Like Christ, he takes (and even gives up) what he has and bestows it upon the one who lacks it.

The culture may look at the woman as “weaker” or inferior—in fact, that low view of women was very true of the Mediterranean culture of Peter’s day—but 1 Peter says that she is a “joint heir” (the “heirs with you” translation in the NIV [NIV New International Version] may disguise the strength of the phrase). In other words, in the realm that counts, the spiritual, she is an equal. The New Testament perspective is that marriage itself and sexual differences in particular are temporal and will not continue in heaven (see Mt 22:30). Thus from the heavenly perspective it is not the weakness of the woman that is ultimate, but her equality. Since this is the reality of the future, the Christian husband is to recognize this in the present in the way he respects or honors his wife. There is, as Paul argued in Galatians 3:28, no real (in the sense of ultimate or lasting) difference between male and female. Fully Christian marriage lives this out, being more determined by the fuller reality of the future (the eschatological reality) than by the legal and social givens of a culture.

Therefore, we can now see why this would affect prayers. Several New Testament passages (Mt 5:23; 6:12, 14–15; 1 Cor 11:33–34; Jas 4:3) indicate that relational differences with others will hinder one’s prayer life. How much more would this be the case if one’s wife were complaining to God of her husband’s mistreatment of her?

Even if she did not complain, would not God see her tears? Isn’t he a God of compassion and justice? Doesn’t he stand up for the weaker and the oppressed? On the one hand, then, we have the promise implied in Matthew 18:19–20 that husband and wife make the smallest church, a place in which Christ can be present; therefore prayers made in unity with him will be heard. On the other hand, when they are estranged and especially when the more powerful is oppressing the weaker, no prayer will be heard, for God will put the relationship and living like Christ in self-giving ahead of any request—except that of repentance.3 [3 It is unclear whether the “your” (plural) in “your prayers” refers to the husbands’ prayers only (since husbands are addressed as a group) or both the husbands’ and the wives’ prayers.

Probably the former is meant, but we must remember that bitterness and resentment in the wife will also block prayers as surely as the husband’s oppressiveness.]

Is Peter then condescending to women? No, he is not condescending; he is realistic. He recognizes that in the cultures with which he was dealing (and to a large extent today as well), the wife was disadvantaged in the relationship, almost always physically and often legally and socially as well. He therefore counsels the husband to live like Jesus and to take his physical and social advantage and use it to make his wife the equal she really is in God’s eyes. This type of relationship, 1 Peter argues, will lead to the situation in which prayer can be answered. Any exploitation of one’s wife, however, blocks the way between the husband and his God.

3:19 Who Are the Spirits in Prison?

It is unclear what Peter means when he says that Christ preached to the spirits in prison. Could it be that Christ is giving a second chance to people who have died?

What does it mean that these beings are in prison? Could there be some type of purgatory after death where people are given a second chance?

The first step to understanding this passage is to look at it in context. The passage is speaking to Christians faced with the possibility of persecution. Peter is giving the example of Christ, who was also persecuted. This fact is important, for the Christians he is addressing are being encouraged to identify with the experience of Christ. Jesus also suffered. In fact, he was “put to death in the body” (NIV [NIV New International Version] ) or “in the flesh” (RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] ), but “made alive by the Spirit” or “in the spirit.” While admittedly difficult, it appears that two different spheres of life are being described. In the human sphere of life (“the flesh”—the NIV

[NIV New International Version] translation is unfortunate in that it does not make this clear) Jesus was put to death. As far as the world was concerned, he was dead forever, executed as a criminal. Yet the church knew that on Easter he came alive, not in the merely human sphere, but in the spiritual sphere. So his body was raised, but it was not raised as only a natural human body (as was Lazarus’s body), but as an immortal body. Therefore we find stories about the risen Christ being able to do things that he could not do before his death, such as appear and disappear and enter locked rooms.

It was in this spiritual sphere of life (a better translation than the NIV [NIV New International Version] ’s “through whom” would be the NSRV [NSRV New Revised Standard Verision] ’s “in which”) that Jesus went to the “spirits in prison.” We learn in the next verse that these spirits “disobeyed in the days of Noah.” Who, then, could they be? There are two possibilities. In the days of Noah the earth was full of violence because people were very wicked (see Gen 6:3–6, 11). These people all died in the flood. Could they be these spirits? When we look at the use of the term spirit in the New Testament, we notice that it is almost never used of dead people. When it is used of dead people, it is always qualified in some way to make it clear that it is people who are being written about (for example, Heb 12:23). Normally dead human beings are referred to as “souls.” Since there is nothing in this passage to make it clear that it is human beings who are being written about, it is unlikely that these are dead people.

The other possibility is that they are the “sons of God” of Genesis 6:2, or perhaps their offspring. The term “sons of God” refers to spiritual beings from the divine council.

The New Testament refers to them as angels who “abandoned their own home” (Jude

6) or who “sinned” (2 Pet 2:4). Here, then, we have truly rebellious, disobedient spirits. Furthermore, there is a long tradition, both in the New Testament and in other Jewish writings, that these fallen angels were kept in a prison (see 1 Enoch 10–16; 21

for a discussion of the punishment of these “Watchers,” as he calls them). This, then, appears to be the mostly likely identification of these “spirits in prison.” Not only are we talking about beings usually referred to as “spirits,” but we are also talking about beings who were known to Jews as being in a “prison.”

Was Jesus proclaiming the gospel to these “spirits”? Was he giving them a “second chance”? The term for “preach” is normally used in the New Testament for preaching the gospel, but it can also mean to “announce” or “proclaim” (Lk 12:3; Rom 2:21; Rev 5:2). Therefore it does not necessarily mean to proclaim the gospel. Are there other passages in Jewish or Christian literature in which something is proclaimed or preached to these spirits? Again we turn back to 1 Enoch (which was known to the early church, for it is cited in Jude) and discover that Enoch proclaims to these spirits their doom.

Does such an interpretation fit this passage? The passage ends on a note of triumph with the submission of all “angels, authorities and powers” to the exalted Jesus. While the New Testament does not speak anywhere of preaching the gospel to spirits, it does speak of the victory of Christ over the spiritual world (for example, 2 Cor 2:14; Eph 6:11–12; Col 2:15; Rev 12:7–11). Thus a reference in this passage to the proclamation of that victory fits right in with the tone of both the passage and the New Testament in general.

We can now summarize what the passage is saying. The Christians in Asia Minor were facing persecution and possible martyrdom. Peter calls them to look at the example of Jesus. He was, from the human point of view, killed. Yet, in fact, he rose, not simply to renewed natural life, but to transformed life in the spiritual world, and in that world he proclaimed his victory to the fallen angels who were disobedient in Noah’s day.

This may have been during his ascension, for while this text does not tell us where this prison was, some Jews located it in the “second heaven” and thus on the way between earth and the heaven where God dwells. Whatever the case, in the end of this section in 1 Peter Christ is in heaven with all spiritual beings subject to him.

Peter’s point is that Christians through baptism have identified with Christ and so will be saved in the final judgment and share his triumph. They too will live with Christ in exaltation, no matter how human beings persecute or condemn them. As for their persecutors, unless they repent, what hope do they have, living as they do in the purely human sphere? Christ triumphed over his foes and proclaimed his victory. The Christians in Asia Minor (and today) will do the same if they remain faithful to this Christ.

3:21 Baptism Saves You?

Most Christians have been baptized, but they disagree about how to baptize, when to baptize, and what baptism means. This passage speaks to this latter issue (and perhaps by implication to the others), but for many Christians it complicates the problem rather than solves it. In fact, the whole paragraph of 1 Peter 3:18–22 is difficult. However, the problem on which we are going to focus is only that of baptism, for while several statements in the paragraph may be confusing, this appears to have major doctrinal issues at stake. If baptism saves a person, how does it do this? Isn’t it salvation by

grace through faith? This seems to add a ceremonial work, much like circumcision.

And what, then, is the state of people who are not baptized? Should our opening statement be modified to say that “all Christians have been baptized” and that those who believe themselves to be Christians but are not baptized have not in fact been saved?

The point of this paragraph (1 Pet 3:18–22) is to give a reason for suffering for doing good. The reason is found in the example of Christ. “For Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God. He was put to death in the body but made alive by the Spirit” (1 Pet 3:18). Christ also was righteous, but he still suffered. He was condemned to death in the arena of the world (better than “in the body” of the NIV [NIV New International Version] ). Yet this was not the end of him.

Instead God raised him from the dead, no longer in the arena of this world, for death and evil can no longer touch him. Jesus was raised in the arena of the spirit, just as Paul taught in 1 Corinthians 15:42–49. And he has been exalted so that all beings in the universe are subject to him. Since he is an example for the Christians to whom Peter is writing, the implication (brought out clearly in the next chapter) is that for them also suffering for righteousness is not ultimately an evil, but the door to a resurrected life in which they too will be beyond the grasp of all evil and will reign with Christ.

In mentioning the triumph of Jesus at the resurrection (1 Pet 3:18–19), Peter is reminded that Noah built the ark and that “in it only a few people, eight in all, were saved through water” (1 Pet 3:20). Why would this fact be important to Peter and his readers? The believers in Asia Minor to whom he is writing were once pagans, very much part of their culture, fully accepted in their cities and villages. Now they are being ostracized and slandered because they are Christians. The whole world appears to be against them. True enough, Peter reminds them, but the world was also against Noah. He looked a fool building the ark, but the majority were wrong and drowned in the flood. The minority of eight people (Noah, his three sons and their wives) were the only ones saved, although they were saved through water, and it must have been a rough voyage at that.

This has set the stage for 1 Peter’s drawing an analogy to the Christian experience.

The concept that an Old Testament event symbolized a New Testament one is common in Scripture. It is found in Paul (Rom 5:14; 1 Cor 10:6, 11) and in Hebrews (Heb 8:5; 9:24).4 [4 For more on this type of interpretation, see Leonhard Goppelt, Typos: The Typological Interpretation of the Old Testament in the New (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1982).] This is not surprising, since the same God operates in both Testaments and his character is consistent. One would expect corresponding actions. There are, however, some differences; Paul sees a correspondence between baptism and the crossing of the Red Sea and the covering cloud in Exodus (1 Cor 10:2), while Peter draws his parallel with Noah. Neither interpretation is wrong since we are moving in the world of analogy, not of literal meaning.

As Noah was saved through water, so is the Christian: “Baptism now saves you.” How does baptism save a person? The answer is “by the resurrection of Jesus Christ.” In other words, baptism is a union with Christ, and, united with Christ, we are carried with him to resurrection life. Paul has similarly used baptism as the point of union with Christ (Rom 6:4–11; Col 2:12). The key is that, as in 1 Peter 1:3, it is being joined to Jesus that saves. Without Jesus and his resurrection, baptism would be useless.

Peter goes on to argue this when he explains his point in more detail. Christian baptism consists of being immersed in water (in fact, at least in the third and fourth centuries it was done naked to be sure that one came in full contact with the water). The amount and type of water is never mentioned, although by the second century cold running water was preferred. (See Didache 7:1–4 in the apostolic fathers for the order of preferred types of water in Asia Minor between a.d. 100 and 150.) The point in 1 Peter is that the outward washing is not the important part. That is simply “the removal of dirt from the body.” Without something more one would go into the water a dirty sinner and come out a clean sinner. The water has no magic properties, nor does the ritual itself save. If it did, baptism would be like circumcision was for the Jew, and Christians would indeed be saved by works (which in Paul means ritual acts), although not works of the Old Testament law.

What does save in the baptismal experience is the “pledge” or “answer” to God from

“a good conscience.” For some scholars this means a request made to God for a good conscience; in other words, it is a request made in baptism that God would purify one and forgive one’s sins (see Heb 10:22). This certainly is a possible interpretation, for it makes the expressed commitment to Christ, not the ritual act, the point of salvation.

More likely, however, is the interpretation based on parallels with Jewish rites and the use of the term “pledge” in other literature. This sees the candidate for baptism being asked a series of questions, such as “Do you pledge yourself to follow Jesus as Lord?”

(perhaps reflected in Acts 8:37 and 1 Tim 6:12). The response of commitment to God and identification with Christ is what saves, if it comes from a good conscience. In other words, a hypocritical response will have no effect. An honest pledge of commitment, however, will result in salvation, for it joins the person to the resurrection of Christ.

However, this leaves many questions open for us, such as “What about people who are never baptized and yet make a commitment to Christ in another setting?” For Peter this would be a strange question, though, for after adequate instruction in the faith, baptism in the name of Jesus was the first thing done to all converts in the New Testament period. The idea that a person would confess Christ and yet would not be baptized would be absurd to Peter. Therefore he does not consider it a question needing an answer. He would surely have admitted that the thief on the cross had been saved without being baptized (Lk 23:43), but why should that be the norm for people who are not on crosses or otherwise inhibited from baptism? Are they trying to avoid a command of Christ? If so, have they ever committed themselves to Christ at all? These are the type of questions Peter would have wanted to ask had the question been put to him. In short, rather than ask such a question (unless we are concerned about a thief-on-the-cross type we know), why not simply get baptized? Yet all of this is unstated, an assumed part of New Testament teaching.

What Peter does say is clear enough, however. Christians are saved through their being joined to Christ and his resurrection. This should make them unafraid of what any human persecutor can do to them, for Christ has triumphed over all that sphere of life and the spirit world that operates behind it. The normal point of salvation for Christians in the early church was baptism. Even here it is not the ritual itself or the water that saves, but the commitment that one makes to Jesus as Lord. (Or the forgiveness one asks from Jesus the Lord, taking the alternative interpretation.) As in Paul, salvation is a relationship. Baptism in Christianity, just as a wedding in marriage, is simply the way of entering into that relationship.

See also comment on acts 2:38; 22:16.

4:1 Done with Sin?

At first glance 1 Peter 4:1 does not appear difficult. That Christ has suffered in his body is a given of the Christian faith, for how else would one describe the cross?

Likewise it is a very common idea in the New Testament that Christians should be prepared to follow Christ, including following his example of suffering. One need only read Philippians 2:5–11 to get an example, or 1 Peter 2:21. But in this passage something else is added, namely the idea that “he who has suffered in his body is done with sin.” Does this mean the same as Romans 6:7, “Anyone who has died has been freed from sin”? Or does it have another meaning, especially since it uses “suffered”

rather than “died” and “is done with” rather than “has been freed from”? If “done with sin” means “stopped sinning,” why am I still sinning? Does it mean that I have not suffered enough?

There are five different explanations of this passage. First, it might refer only to Christ (the “he” is Christ and no one else). Second, it may refer to a Christian’s identification with Christ at his or her conversion-initiation (especially baptism). That is, when one identifies with Christ’s death, sin has no more power over that person (Rom 6:1–12; 1

Jn 5:18–19). Third, it may mean that when a Christian decides to suffer for Christ, that believer has chosen decisively to break with sin and its compromises. Fourth, it may mean that when Christians suffer, they break the power of sin over their life. Finally, it may mean that when Christians die, they will be freed from sin as Christ was.

In choosing among these we notice, first, that Peter, unlike Paul, never uses “sin” as an abstract principle or power. Peter is always thinking of concrete acts of sin. This makes the second and third options unlikely. Furthermore Peter speaks of the suffering as a completed action, which also makes the concept of identification or decision (both of which are ongoing) unlikely. Second, when we consider the remaining options, we see that while 1 Peter is about persecution, it is not about martyrdom. Naturally, one can hardly say that the prospect of dying for one’s faith was totally absent from Peter’s consciousness, yet the types of suffering that he mentions are those of social ostracism and abuse, not the official proceedings that could lead to execution. This makes the last option unlikely.

That leaves two options remaining, and both are probably in Peter’s mind. The source of the saying is Christ, who is preeminently the one who “suffered in the body”—or better, “suffered in this physical world”—right up to the point of death (which is more than these Christians have been called to do yet). The result was not a loss for Jesus, but rather a freedom that he has from the whole realm of sin and death. He is no longer subject to those things which he endured while living on earth. So likewise the Christian who has suffered has made a decisive break with sin. This happens totally when the Christian goes to the extent of Christ and dies; but it happens in part when the Christian suffers in any way. The act of suffering for Christ makes the attractiveness of sin hollow. The believer has put all his eggs in one basket, that of Christ, and has paid too great a price to turn back now.

This explains why it is an attitude with which believers are to arm themselves. It is the attitude seen in Christ and expressed in the saying “He who has suffered in his body [or flesh] is done with sin.” If Peter’s readers have this attitude their own suffering will

result in their “not liv[ing] the rest of [their] earthly life for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God.” That is, if Christ is really the one they are following, their great example, then suffering will separate them more and more from sinful acts, making them increasingly invested in heaven, until they come to that point when they die like Christ, and, like him, are totally finished with sin and all its effects in this world.5 [5 For further explanation, see the comment on this verse in Peter H. Davids, The First Epistle of Peter, New International Commentary on the New Testament (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1990).]

We may in fact still be sinning because we have not chosen to suffer and thereby have done with sin. Perhaps when we come to the point of choice, we choose compromise and then wonder why we cannot overcome temptation. On the other hand, we may still be sinning because we have not suffered enough. While we have chosen Christ and against sin and are making good progress in the battle, we have not yet died. We may be longing for a perfection that will only be ours in resurrection, not that very real maturity that is possible in this world.

See also comment on romans 6:2, 7; hebrews 10:14; 1 john 3:6, 9.

4:14 The Spirit of Glory and of God?

No one likes being insulted. It is certainly not the time in life when a person usually experiences either God or glory, yet 1 Peter seems to associate the two. In 1 Peter 4:12–18, Peter encourages his readers to be faithful under persecution and not to think of it as something foreign to their Christian experience. In the middle of that section is 1 Peter 4:14. It seems strange because it makes us wonder if the Spirit “of glory” in any way differs from the Spirit “of God.” Also, why should the Spirit rest on people just because they are insulted?

This phrase in 1 Peter is unusual. In fact, it is so grammatically difficult that some of the scribes tried to “clean it up” by making various “corrections” to the text. Yet the context is clear, and it is this context that enables us to understand what Peter is getting at.

Immediately before this verse the author has called the sufferings that these Christians are experiencing a participation in the sufferings of Christ (1 Pet 4:13). They have identified with Jesus and are experiencing sufferings (such as persecution) on earth parallel to those he received. But this participation in his sufferings will lead to participation in his glory. Suffering is not virtuous in itself, but when it is endured because of one’s faithfulness to Christ it is the path to glory.

Now Peter makes the nature of some of those sufferings clear; they are being “insulted because of the name of Christ.” These Christians claim to be serving Christ, and their neighbors are making fun of them or perhaps slandering them (with all types of rumors about what Christians really did in their services). That enduring such rejection brings a blessing is something Jesus made clear when he said, “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me”

(Mt 5:11; compare Lk 6:22). The world around them is rejecting them, but Jesus is accepting them. He has called them blessed.

It is also clear that the only persecution that will result in this blessing is that which results from their faithfulness to Christ. In the next verse Peter notes that suffering as a criminal or a meddler in the affairs of others will not bring a blessing (unless, of course,

the accusation is false, an excuse for punishing them for being Christians). Sometimes Christians are persecuted because they are obnoxious, not because they are faithful!

When genuine persecution happens, 1 Peter promises that the Holy Spirit will rest upon them. This may recall Jesus’ promise “When they arrest you, do not worry … for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you” (Mt 10:19–20; compare Mk 13:11; Lk 12:11–12). At times this glory could be visible to the Christian (Acts 7:55) or to others (Acts 6:15; compare Stephen’s term for God in Acts 7:2). Yet note that this “glory” did not always get the person out of trouble; it was the vision of glory that led to Stephen’s being stoned! In other words, through the Spirit of God, the Christians undergoing persecution for Christ will experience in the present a taste of the glory they will have in its fullness later (1 Pet 1:7; 5:4 refer to the coming glory).

There is another reason for the dual name for the Spirit. The people insult the Christians; God causes his Spirit of glory to rest on them. Instead of insult they receive glory in the eyes of God. The people persecute because of the name of Christ; it is the Spirit of God himself that rests upon them. They have been faithful to Christ, so God is happy to let his name be identified with them. The balance in this passage is impressive.

What, then, is Peter saying? The call to Christ is a call to come and die. Part of the dying with Christ includes persecution for Christ. But the Christian is not alone in persecution. While the world is heaping up insult and shame, God is placing his Spirit of glory upon them. It is no surprise that this is the reported experience of many of the martyrs of the first centuries of the church. And because they have identified with the name of Christ, God identifies with them through his Spirit. Thus Peter can say,

“Praise God that you bear that name [for which you are suffering]” (1 Pet 4:16).

Rejection is never pleasant, nor is it to be sought, but when it comes out of faithfulness to Christ it brings with it the presence of the Spirit. It is this idea that our strange expression brings out. And it is in this, not in the suffering itself, that a Christian can truly rejoice and praise God.

See also comment on habakkuk 3:16–18; james 1:2.

4:17 Judgment to Begin with the Family of God?

I do not enjoy thinking about the judgment of anyone; I especially dislike considering my own possible judgment. Thus, it bothers me when the author of this epistle suddenly begins to refer to the persecution of Christians (the context of this passage) as judgment. But did not Christ take the judgment of believers? How can Peter take such a gloomy perspective, if he really believes in grace? Does that mean that if I am persecuted I am a sinful Christian in need of judgment? Wouldn’t that perspective add guilt to my suffering, rather than allow me to rejoice in suffering for Christ?

The answer to our questions is relatively easy, although it is not comfortable to contemplate. The topic of the passage is “the judgment” (the Greek text has the definite article). What judgment could this be? Peter has already referred to judgment (1 Pet 1:17; 2:23; 4:5–6), and in every case it is God’s judgment and therefore probably the final judgment. Given the use of the same phrase in other New Testament passages (Acts 24:25; Rom 2:2–3; Heb 6:2; 2 Pet 3:7; Jude 4; Rev 17:1; 18:20), this conclusion becomes firm. Thus 1 Peter is saying that the final judgment is beginning

not with the pagans or the unbelieving Jews, but with the family of God, the church.

The persecution they are experiencing is a phase of that final judgment.

How this is the case becomes clear when we examine God’s judging in Jewish tradition. In an Old Testament tradition, judgment begins at God’s house. For example, Ezekiel 9:5–6 reads, “Follow him through the city and kill. … Begin at my sanctuary.” Jeremiah, in speaking to the nations, says, “See, I am beginning to bring disaster on the city that bears my Name, and will you indeed go unpunished?” (Jer 25:29). The nations will not go unpunished, for judgment has begun with God’s own people. Likewise, at the end of the Old Testament period, Malachi 3:1–6 speaks of the Lord coming to his temple and purifying the Levites. He concludes, “So I will come near to you for judgment.” Does the Lord judge his people? The answer of the Old Testament is yes, and if so, how much more severely will he judge the pagan nations.

In Malachi and continuing in the intertestamental period, this judgment is interpreted as a purifying judgment, which will bring God’s people to repentance. “Therefore, he did not spare his own sons first. … Therefore they were once punished that they might be forgiven” (2 Baruch 13:9–10)6 [6 The same teaching is in 2Baruch 13:1–12; Testament of Benjamin 100:8–9; and the Dead Sea Scrolls 1QS 4:18–21; 1Qh 8:30–31; 9:10; 11:8–10, all of which are Jewish writings that are available in English.] .

The New Testament shares this position. Not only is the story of Ananias and Sapphira (Acts 5) a graphic example, but Paul clearly states this teaching. Speaking to Christians who were ill because of their sin, Paul writes, “If we judged ourselves, we would not come under judgment. When we are judged by the Lord, we are being disciplined so that we will not be condemned with the world” (1 Cor 11:31–32). Hebrews 12:7–11

also speaks of the suffering of Christians as discipline, although discipline can come for two reasons. Soldiers go through the discipline of training programs to harden themselves so that they may stand in battle; children are disciplined when they have done wrong. Both appear to be in the mind of the author of Hebrews, although the latter is foremost for Paul.

There is, then, a New Testament teaching that God will judge his church, his people.

This judgment is a discipline to harden them so that they will not sin or to turn them from the sin into which they have already fallen. It is therefore grace, for God disciplines so that he will not have to condemn Christians in the concluding phase of the final judgment (that is also the hope of church discipline; 1 Cor 5:5). It is based on grace, for we never hear of God judging Christians for sins that they have repented of.

Yet, gracious as it is, such a judgment is very real and very painful, a point upon which all of the New Testament authors agree.

Part of the graciousness of God’s act is seen in Peter’s question “What will the outcome be for those who do not obey the gospel?” If the beginning of the final judgment, the purifying action of God within his church, is so severe, despite the fact that they are God’s own family and have obeyed the gospel, what will the conclusion of the final judgment be like when he turns his attention to those who have refused to obey him? It is a mercy that God turns his church to repentance and spares it from the fate of the unbeliever. That is precisely what Peter concludes, citing the Greek form of Proverbs 11:31, “If it is hard for the righteous to be saved, what will become of the ungodly and the sinner?” (1 Pet 4:18). Faith will be tested (1 Pet 1:6; 4:12), for Jesus said that the way to life was narrow (Lk 13:23–24), but for the unbelievers, “It is a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (Heb 10:31).

In this passage, then, Peter has three ways of looking at persecution. First, it is a test

of faith, showing if the commitment of the professed Christian is genuine or not (1 Pet 4:12). Second, it is an identification with the sufferings of Christ, which will not only result in glory in the future, but leads to the Spirit of glory resting upon them now (1

Pet 4:13–14). Finally, it is a discipline or judgment, which shows that they are in fact God’s family and purifies them to live more in the character of the family. The final judgment has begun, but it has begun with the purification of God’s church, God’s people, just as happened in the Old Testament. It will be consummated, however, not in condemnation for his people—they are his family and will be saved after being purified—but in terrible conclusive judgments upon unbelievers, which Jesus described so graphically (for example, Mt 24–25) and Revelation pictures in visions (Rev 15–16; 20).

I still do not like the idea of judgment, but my suffering does not necessarily mean that I am specially sinful. Since I am committed to Christ, the persecution I suffer is a sign that I am part of the household of God. He, as a good father, is purifying his family for our good. It is a sign of belonging. I may not enjoy the experience, but I can rejoice that I am among those facing judgment now, being purified in preparation for heaven, rather than among those who will face the full force of divine judgment later.

2 Peter

1:4 Participate in the Divine Nature?

Can a human being participate in the nature of God? This sounds like something written by a New Age guru!

There is a clear progression in Peter’s thought in this passage. First, he presents Christ’s divine power (his first use of the adjective “divine”) as providing Christians with everything needed for a godly life (2 Pet 1:3). Christ mediates this power to us human beings through personal knowledge of (not simply theological knowledge about) God, who is the one who has called believers to Christ. Therefore the movement in this passage is from a call to Christ through the power and glory of the Father to a life of godliness through Christ’s divine power revealing the Father to human hearts.

This glorious power of God forms the basis of his promises. What are these promises?

They are surely the promises, found in many New Testament presentations of the gospel, of a place in Christ’s eternal kingdom (2 Pet 1:11) and the rewards that go along with it (such as those described in 1 Pet 1:3–5). Then why were these promises given? So that Christians might become “partakers in the divine nature.” The phrase

“divine nature” itself is well known from Greek philosophical literature, but it is also found in the Jewish-Hellenistic literature of the New Testament period. In this first-century literature, to “participate in the divine nature” does not mean merging into God or union with deity (which is the sense equivalent language has in true New Age thought). In other words, neither the Greeks (for the most part) nor the Jews, even the most Greek of them, were pantheists. They all expected a continuing personal existence beyond death, not a uniting with the Eternal or a becoming part of the One.

What “partaking of the divine nature” does mean for Greek and Jewish authors is to take part in the immortality and incorruption of God (or “the gods” in pagan Greek literature). One who has so participated will, like God, live in the immortal sphere and

like him will not be tainted with any corruption. Certainly Peter means at least this much. And if this is all that he means, then he is indicating what will happen at death (or the return of Christ). That is, the promises of God lead us on and direct our life until we obtain the inheritance of what they promise, the divine nature, at death.

This presentation of the goal of the Christian life contrasts with the lifestyle of the false teachers against whom 2 Peter is written. God’s goal is that we set our eyes on his promises and head toward heaven, thereby escaping “the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.” The false teachers, on the other hand, are involved in these evil desires. In fact, it is their lifestyle, not their doctrine, that shows them to be corrupt.

Desire, of course, can be good. We desire food so as not to be hungry, for example.

But desire needs to be controlled by God’s goals and principles. When desire itself rules us, it is indeed evil (for it desires the bad as well as the good), and it leads us to corruption. Those whose goal is really the divine nature will not be turned aside or controlled by such evil desires.

It is possible that Peter means more than this. Paul, for example, speaks of the Holy Spirit being within Christians. Therefore the divine nature (a term Paul does not use, but could have) is within, giving life (Rom 8:11; compare 2 Cor 3:18). James (Jas 1:18) and John (Jn 3:5–6) speak of being born of God and therefore having something of God’s nature. In fact, 1 John 3:9 describes new birth so literally that it says God’s

“sperm” (usually translated “seed,” but the same word is used for the sperm or semen of a male) remains in the child of God. According to 1 John, because this or that person is born of God he or she does not sin. This is because the nature of the Father is in them.

What can we say, then, about this passage? The author boldly uses the terminology of Greek philosophy and culture and redefines it in a Christian sense. He points to the Christian’s supply of all that is needed for a holy life in the divine power of Christ. He also points to the goal of the Christian life as a participation in the divine nature, at least at death, when—like Christ—the Christian will live immortally in the incorruptible heavenly realm. He may be indicating that this participation is an experience that the Holy Spirit mediates to Christians in the present life, although his language is not clear enough to be certain of this. In saying what he does, Peter actually says less than some of the other New Testament writers about the joining of human beings to God, even if his language is more striking. At the same time he clearly calls Christians to use the provision of Christ and fix their eyes on the promises of God so that they will in fact escape the corruption in the world and in the end receive the promised divine nature. It is this drawing on Christ’s power and focus on the future, which includes allowing that future to determine present lifestyle, which is all the Christian need do to receive the glorious hope of participating in the nature of God.

1:10 Make Your Calling and Election Sure?

Because Christians take salvation seriously, we are often plagued with doubts about it.

Even if the problem does not afflict us, most Christians have had friends who were fearful that their salvation might be in doubt. Therefore the exhortation to ethical duty in 2 Peter 1 is not in itself an issue, for similar exhortations occur throughout the New Testament. But what does the author mean in 2 Peter 1:10 in exhorting us to make our

“calling and election sure”? Does this mean that if we do not live the type of lifestyle that he is suggesting, we may not be elect? Does it mean that we might not be saved?

Or does it mean that we might lose the salvation that we already have?

The passage is certainly calling for moral effort. The call for zeal in the phrase “be all the more eager” tips us off to that fact. If that were not enough, this verse comes right after another exhortation to moral living. In 2 Peter 1:5–7 we discover a chain of virtues that Christians are strongly encouraged (using a phrase similar to “be all the more eager”) to develop. Developing them will make us effective and productive in our relationship to Christ, while the failure to develop them means that we are blind and have forgotten the cleansing from past sins that we have experienced. We are not surprised at this encouragement to moral effort, for the false teachers in 2 Peter are false precisely in that they are not living morally (false teaching in 2 Peter and in many other New Testament writings is false because it sets a wrong moral example, not just because it teaches wrong doctrine). They apparently claim to see, but in Peter’s eyes they are blind.

To make one’s “calling and election sure,” then, is to guarantee or confirm or ratify (the term has those meanings in various contexts) the calling one has received. The calling, of course, is the calling to Christ referred to in 1 Peter 1:3. The ideas of calling and election are closely associated. Paul in Romans 8:30 puts election before calling, which is a logical order (God would decide and make a choice, or elect, before he called the person to Christ, or so it would seem to us), but other New Testament writers, including Paul himself, often pair the two concepts as virtual synonyms (see 1

Cor 1:26–27; 1 Pet 2:9; Rev 17:14). The point is that this word pair (and Peter is fond of word pairs) indicates God’s action in bringing a person to Christ. This is what needs to be confirmed or ratified by the ethical obedience of the Christian. However, the author is not saying that moral effort can produce election to Christ’s kingdom. The calling and election are first (the grace of God appears in 1 Pet 1:3), just as faith comes first in his list of virtues in 1 Peter 1:5. Everything else is to be a fruit of faith. What Peter does believe is that without moral living one will not enter the kingdom, which is precisely what Paul also believed (1 Cor 6:9–10; Gal 5:21).

Peter makes his point clear in the second half of the verse. To confirm one’s calling is not to “stumble.” This term can mean to sin, as in James 2:10, 3:2. But if this were all Peter had in mind, the sentence would be so obvious as to be meaningless: If you live ethically (do these things), you will not sin (fall). Therefore Peter is using the term as it is used in Romans 11:11, to “fall” in the sense of “come to grief” or “fall disastrously.”

In Jude 24 a related term refers to God’s grace in keeping people from falling in this way, meaning “leaving the faith.” The opposite of falling, then, is to “receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Pet 1:11).

In other words, the author pictures Christians on a journey begun with the calling and election of God. If they fall on the way, they will never reach the goal of the kingdom (salvation). But if they do not stumble, and instead develop the virtues he has already listed, they will in the end arrive at the kingdom and be warmly welcomed into it.

This teaching is important within the context of 2 Peter. As noted above, the false teachers in the church were not living according to Christian standards, yet they were claiming to be elect and on their way to Christ’s kingdom. The author is denying this claim. While the whole New Testament witnesses to forgiveness of sin for all who repent, and acknowledges that Christians do sin from time to time, no author in the New Testament, whether Paul or James or Peter or John, believed that a person could be living in disregard of Christian standards and still be “saved” (or still inherit the kingdom). As Jesus said, a good tree bears good fruit (Mt 7:17). You cannot

consistently get “unsaved” fruit from a “saved” tree.

The call in 2 Peter, then, is to move onward. There is no attempt to solve the question as to whether one can be “lost” after being “saved.” Peter’s concerns are much more practical. “Make sure that you are in fact saved!” That is, if you have experienced the call of God, you are to ratify it by your obedience to him, your moral submission. If you do this, there will be no doubt of your salvation nor of your eventual welcome into the kingdom. What about those who are concerned that they might not be truly elect?

Their lifestyle of obedience to Christ, which flows from trust in him, should be convincing proof of their state of grace; if they lack this evidence, they would do well to repent and to make their “calling and election sure.”

See also comment on hebrews 6:4–6; 10:26; philippians 3:10; 1 john 3:6, 9.

1:19 The Word of the Prophets Made More Certain?

How can Scripture be “made more certain”? Is there some of Scripture that is not certain or is less certain? If it is not certain, or not fully certain, can Scripture be trusted? Even if it applies only to the Old Testament, the passage raises the question of how this scriptural author understands his Bible.

The teaching that 2 Peter sees to be at issue (and which therefore triggers this whole discussion) is the doctrine of the Second Coming of Christ (or the parousia),1 [1 Parousia is the Greek word for “presence,” translated “coming” in the NIV in 2 Peter 1:16, and it has become the technical term in New Testament scholarship for what Christians refer to as the Second Coming of Christ.] “the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ” (2 Pet 1:16). This is precisely the doctrine denied by the false teachers (2 Pet 3:3–10), which may be the basis for their loose living (especially if it included a denial of final judgment). In 2 Peter 1 the author argues first that the apostles have in the transfiguration actually seen a foretaste of the return of Christ (2

Pet 1:16–18). At this point he brings in Scripture to strengthen his case.

The NIV [NIV New International Version] translation that we have quoted (along with the RSV [RSV Revised Standard Version] and NEB [NEB New English Bible] ) appears to state that the eyewitness report of the apostles confirms and thus makes more certain what the Old Testament says about the Second Coming of Christ. But that probably is not the best translation of the text. The Greek idiom Peter uses normally meant “to have a firm hold on something.” If that is the case, then we should translate it “We place very firm (or firmer) reliance on the prophetic word.”2 [2 See R. J.

Bauckham, Jude, 2 Peter, Word Biblical Commentary (Waco, Tex.: Word, 1983), pp. 223–24.] What Peter is saying, then, is that, yes, the apostolic eyewitness report is certain and reliable, but that Christians (including himself) place even more reliance on what the Scriptures say about the return of Christ.

That he is talking about Scripture when he speaks of “the word of the prophets” is virtually certain, for with one minor exception in the apostolic fathers, all other occurrences of this phrase refer to the Old Testament. For the early Christians the whole Old Testament was viewed as messianic prophecy, speaking about Christ, even if they normally used only certain passages. The concept that “the word of prophecy”

equals the Old Testament is reinforced in the next verse, in which Peter discusses the origin of the “prophecy of Scripture.” Unlike the false teachers who are presenting their own ideas, the Old Testament writers (while 2 Pet 3:15–16 refers to Paul’s writings, it is doubtful that the author thought of them as “prophecy” like the Old

Testament) spoke from God. That is, they spoke God’s ideas taught to them by the Holy Spirit.

Peter, then, is calling on his readers to hold on to Scripture and its meaning until “the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts.” The morning star is Jesus (Rev 22:16) and the dawning of the day is his coming. The dawning is “in your hearts,” for the context is speaking about revelation, not about government or judgment or other aspects of Christ’s return. When Christ returns the full revelation of God will be revealed in the hearts of the believers. Until then they need to hold on to the confident expectation of his return on the basis of the apostolic witness and especially the word of Scripture. These, of course, are partial, “a light shining in a dark place,” but they are accurate and true—they are light. The dawn will come and the full light of the sun will overwhelm the small light of the lamp, but it does this by giving more light, not by giving something other than light.

Thus, Peter is not implying that Scripture is at all uncertain. What he is saying is that there are two bases on which one can know that Jesus will return. The first is the apostolic witness of the transfiguration, when the glory of Christ was revealed in part.

The second is the word of Scripture. More reliance is put on this second basis than on the first. Yet both are true. Therefore for Peter Scripture is the firmest basis on which to establish one’s faith. Nothing more certain can be found until the presence of Christ himself at his Second Coming makes the limited light of Scripture unnecessary.

For Christians this is a helpful reminder. We are to value Scripture, depend on Scripture and support our faith through Scripture. Yet Scripture is not eternal nor what our faith is placed in (in contrast to the teaching of some of the rabbinic writings that the Law or Torah was before the world and was in fact the reason for the creation of the world). We worship our Lord and his Father, not Scripture. Scripture simply points us to them. It is a true light shining in the darkness. What we ultimately long for is not a fuller knowledge of the book, but the blazing brightness of the presence of the One of whom the book speaks and whom even now the book directs us to experience in our hearts.

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