Notes
Notes
Introduction
. Jacob 1958: 32. See also the briefer quotation of Jacob in Fretheim 1984: 6.
. Berkhof (1979: 20) seems to think so: ‘The very personal coming of God to man in the Old Testament, to the point of being anthropomorphic, is here immeasurably intensified [the Christ event], and thereby given a completion as well: he comes to men in a man, in one who as “the Son” stands in a unique relationship to him as “the Father”.’ This is an insightful statement, but not as helpful if read in the context of Berkhof ’s lack of a robust doctrine of the essential Trinity (cf. 1979: 20, 330–337).
. Kierkegaard 1941b.
. Torrance 1992: 38.
. Berkhof 1979: 267.
. Ibid.
. Ibid. 221.
. Neusner 1992: 17–18.
. According to Halverson (1981: 414–415), the divide between naturalistic and non-naturalistic world views is the fundamental one. He contends, ‘It may be helpful to bear in mind from the beginning, however, that one theme that underlies nearly all philosophical discussion is the perpetual conflict between naturalistic and nonnaturalistic world views. A naturalistic world view is one in which it is affirmed that (a) there is only one order of reality, (b) this one order of reality consists entirely of objects and events occurring in space and time, and (c) this one order of reality is completely self-dependent and self-operating…. Any world view that denies any of the above-stated tenets of naturalism, then, may be termed nonnaturalistic’ (original emphases).
. The classic attempt of such explaining away in relation to the apostle Paul is Sargant 1957.
. Brueggemann 2009: 2.
. Huston Smith in Anderson 1995: 206.
. That Scripture presents a metanarrative is ably brought out by both Carson 2010 and Webber 2008.
. Wilkens 2003: 326, n. 9. Wilkens cites Augustine’s Exposition of Psalm 103.4.1.
. This was the title of the fifteen-book work by Eusebius of Caesarea (AD 263–339), the first important early church historian.
. Augustine 2007b: 7.9.
. Muller 1986: 152, 238.
. Ibid. 152.
. Torrance 1992: 18.
. Torrance 2008: 41.
Chapter 1: God prepares the way from the beginning
. Torrance 1992: 37.
. For a brief discussion of various Christian approaches to reading the Genesis creation account see Carson 2010: 14–15. Carson’s own view (15) is that ‘the Genesis account is a mixed genre that feels like history and really does give some historical particulars. At the same time, however, it is full of demonstrable symbolism.’ Thus for Carson (30) the serpent of Gen. 3 ‘may be the embodiment of Satan, or he may be the symbol for Satan, and the Bible doesn’t really care to explain which’. My own view is similar. Real events are narrated, albeit in a highly stylized and symbolic way. It is no accident in my view that both protology (‘first things’, as in Gen. 1 – 3) and eschatology in the narrow sense (‘last things’, as in Rev. 20 – 22) are both presented in Scripture with a great deal of symbolism. Both paradise lost and paradise regained lie beyond our experience, so this should not surprise the sensitive reader.
. Aquinas, Summa Theologica I.a, Q. 74, in Glenn 1963: 59–60.
. Dearman (2002: 39) favours the functional view in the light of ‘the discovery in 1979 of a statue of an Aramean king with a bilingual inscription (Assyrian, Aramaic), where the statue is referred to as the “image” and “likeness” of the king. According to the inscription, King Hada-Yithi placed the statue of himself in a city to remind his subjects of him and his rule when he is physically absent from them.’ Dearman does not tease this out at any length. But in this view Adam and Eve arguably are living ‘statutes’ representing the living God and marking the rest of the created order as belonging to God.
. Collins 2006: 63.
. Dunn (2008: 32) fancifully argues that ‘In a not improper sense the account of the man’s creation in Gen. 2:7 is an incarnation – God breathing the breath of life into the human shape formed from the clay of the ground so that man comes to be as a living being.’ Dunn admits (31) that he has difficulty in distinguishing ‘a person inspired to the nth degree by the spirit of the deity and one who incarnates the word of that deity’.
. Wenham 2004, comment on Gen. 2:15.
. Dumbrell in Hafemann 2002: 62.
. Ryken 1998.
. Ibid. Interestingly the comedic curve is seen in the story of Christ’s incarnation and exaltation, as in Phil. 2:5–11. The state of glory gives way to the state of humiliation, which in turn gives way to the state of glory regained.
. That Scripture is not a scientific text has not always been appreciated. The so-called Mosaic Science of the seventeenth century comes to mind and those on the continent and England who wanted to found cosmology, astronomy, physics and chemistry on the exegesis of Scripture in conscious opposition to the ‘heathenish’ philosophy of Aristotle. See the discussion in Cole 1990: 22–23.
. Beale 2004: 198.
. Pittenger n.d. One does not need to buy into Pittenger’s process metaphysic to appreciate his insight on this particular point.
. The theological defence of such a term is to argue that it is predicated on an even more profound proposition, namely that humankind – according to Gen. 1 – is theomorphic (God shaped).
. Ironically what has become a technical term in theological discussion was first propounded by an eighteenth-century atheist, Paul Henri Thierry, Baron d’Holbach (1723–89). Baron d’Holbach (2007: 124) argued, ‘Thus, in truth, the moral qualities with which he has clothed the divinity, supposes him material, and the most abstract theological notions, are, after all, founded upon a direct, undeniable Anthropomorphism’ (original emphasis). According to d’Holbach, theologians could not do otherwise because they themselves are material beings who project on the deity human qualities carried to perfection by a process of abstraction. For a handy discussion of d’Holbach’s views see Banks 2011: 56–58.
. France 1970: 17.
. Bavinck 1977: 90.
. Ibid. 86–88. His is the most expansive view of biblical anthropomorphism that I have encountered. To include ‘language derived from the organic and inorganic creation’ I find puzzling.
. Fretheim 1984: 6.
. For a more sophisticated taxonomy see Hamori 2008: 26–34. Her categories include, in order of discussion, concrete anthropomorphism, envisioned anthropomorphism, immanent anthropomorphism, transcendent anthropomorphism and figurative anthropomorphism. It is worth noting that some scholars reject the attempt to refine the category of anthropomorphism. For example, Caird (1980: 173) does not accept the distinction between anthropomorphism and anthropopathism. His main argument is that these two categories do not cover the range of biblical materials. What is needed is coverage of ‘metaphors of activity and relationship’. My category of anthropopraxism addresses precisely that desideratum.
. Fretheim 1984: 6.
. ‘Anthropomorphic theophany’ is borrowed from Barr 1960: 34. I prefer Barr’s ‘anthropomorphic theophany’ to Terrien’s (1978: 68) ‘epiphanic visitation’. Terrien argues that theophany involves natural phenomena (e.g. light, darkness, whirlwinds, lightning, thunder, smoke, inter alia). However, I believe that the qualifier ‘anthropomorphic’ is precise enough to aid, not hinder, discussion of certain biblical accounts (e.g. Jacob and the wrestler in Gen. 32:22–32).
. Niehaus (1997: 1247) points out that the Greek term theophaneia lies behind our word ‘theophany’ (theos, ‘god’, and phainō, ‘I appear’), and ‘was used to describe a festival at Delphi at which images of the gods were shown to the people’. The whole article is an excellent treatment of theophany in brief compass. For a more sustained treatment of theophany and one that Niehaus heavily draws upon see Kuntz 1967, esp. ch. 1.
. Ephrem the Syrian, Commentary on Genesis 2.24.1, quoted in Louth 2001: 82.
. John Chrysostom, Homilies on Genesis 17:3–4, quoted in Louth 2001: 82.
. Ibid.
. Beale (2004: 81–121) also provides an excellent discussion of this idea. He acknowledges his debts to Walton.
. Walton 2009: 92. Fascinatingly the making of the creation, the tabernacle and the temple is structured around seven successive divine acts or a time period involving seven. See the fine discussion in Beale 2004: 60–61.
. Walton (2009: 75) touches on the palace idea but does not develop it. He writes, ‘In the same way, temple is built in the ancient world so that deity can have a center for his rule. The temple is the residence and palace of the gods.’
. R. E. Watts 2002.
. Ibid. Dumbrell (in Hafemann 2002: 58) adds a further insight: ‘The placement of humankind in the garden as God’s image furthers the analogy to the temple, with its image of the deity, drawing together the motifs of kingship and the temple at the beginning of the Bible.’ Watts (2002) points out that the last act in temple construction was the placement of the image of the deity in the sacred space. In the light of the temple idea, theological reflection suggests that only a living image is able to be the image of a living God. This may be another reason why idolatry is such folly in biblical perspective.
. Torrance 2008: 38.
. For a brief but very useful treatment of Gen. 3 and how to understand the account as well as the catastrophic entailments it delineates see Carson 2010: 29–34. Beale (2004: 396) comments, ‘Adam and Eve did not remember God’s word, and they “fell”, and they failed to extend the boundaries of God’s Edenic temple.’ The first part of the comment is hardly strong enough. The second part is extremely insightful.
. Some argue that Adam and Eve stand for every man and every woman. Thus Gen. 3 is the story of each one of us told in a highly symbolic way. In this view Adam and Eve were not historical individuals. Guinan (2008) argues, ‘The man and woman of Genesis 2–3, as well as other characters of the primal stories, are intended to represent an Everyman and Everywoman.’ But as I have written elsewhere (Cole 2009b: 57), ‘logically speaking, if the Genesis stories are about all of us ex hypothesi, then they are about the first of us, and consequently belief in real personages and a real space-time fall is unavoidable even on the parabolic or mythic view’.
. Kline 1977–8.
. Ibid. Some of his interpretation is more eisegesis than exegesis though: ‘It was evidently heard from afar before the searching, exposing beams of the theophanic light pierced through the trees in the midst of the garden’ (my emphasis). Matthews, Chavalas and Walton (2000) in their comment on Gen. 3:8 lend some independent support to Kline’s view: ‘Akkadian terminology has demonstrated that the word translated “day” also has the meaning “storm.” This meaning can be seen also for the Hebrew word in Zephaniah 2:2. It is often connected to the deity coming in a storm of judgment. If this is the correct rendering of the word in this passage, they heard the thunder (the word translated “sound” is often connected to thunder) of the Lord moving about in the garden in the wind of the storm. In this case it is quite understandable why they are hiding.’
. Cole 2009b: 57.
. Wenham 2004, comment on Gen. 3:14.
. Ibid., comment on Gen. 3:15.
. Collins 2006: 157. According to Dumbrell (2001b: 27–28), ‘Such [interpretation], in fact, is found in the Septuagint, a very early witness to a traditional interpretation, where the neuter noun seed of verse 15 is treated syntactically as masculine to refer to the messiah. In the Palestinian Targums, Aramaic translations of the Hebrew noun ‘āqēb (heel, end) leads to a messianic understanding. The verse is taken to mean that the serpent and his descendants will bite the woman’s descendants on the “heel” but also that there will be a remedy at the “end,” in the day of the messiah. (Interestingly there is no evidence in later rabbinic sources of a messianic interpretation.) According to Irenaeus and the early church fathers, the woman’s seed refers to humankind generally and then to Christ specifically.’
. Meyendorff 1975: 160–161.
. For a useful discussion of how the medieval Christians addressed the question see Sheppard 2005: 61–76.
. Quoted in McGrath 2011: 282. McGrath offers no opinion of his own on the question.
. Ibid.
. Sheppard 2005: cf. 288–299 and 354.
. Ibid. 361.
. Quoted in McGrath 2011: 282.
. Muller 1986: 45. For the substance of this paragraph I am indebted to Muller’s work, 45–46.
. McGrath (2011: 467) sums up the Lutheran doctrine in these terms: ‘The theory of the real presence especially associated with Martin Luther, which holds that the substance of the Eucharistic bread and wine are given together with the substance of the body and blood of Christ.’
. For example, Calvin (2002b: 2.12.4) argues, ‘But since all Scripture proclaims that to become our Redeemer he was clothed with flesh, it is too presumptuous to imagine another reason or another end.’
. Gunton 2002: 67–68.
Chapter 2: God prepares the way in his dealings with Abraham and Abraham’s Old Testament children
. Fretheim 1984: 106. Eichrodt is quoted in ibid. 102. Niehaus (1997) points out that temporariness is a defining characteristic of theophany.
. ‘Appear’ is in the passive (niphal from the root r’h). The Lord ‘was seen’. The revelatory initiative lies with the Lord.
. Hamori 2008: 29. Jacob likewise experienced God in an anthropopraxic way in the dream at Bethel: ‘He had a dream in which he saw a stairway resting on the earth, with its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. There above it stood the LORD, and he said: “I am the LORD, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac. I will give you and your descendants the land on which you are lying”’ (Gen. 28:12–13).
. Fretheim (1984: 80–81) usefully distinguishes two types of theophany in Scripture: ‘Theophanies of God as Warrior’ and ‘Theophanies of God as Bearer of the Word’. The two patriarchal narratives that concern us at present fall into the latter category. A subset of Bearer of the Word theophanies is that of anthropomorphic theophanies as opposed to non-anthropomorphic theophanies. The wrestler at the Jabbok is an example of the former and the burning bush of Exod. 3 is an example of the latter.
. Hamori 2008: 1. To be more precise, both patriarchal accounts contain andromorphisms. That is to say God is presented as having a male form rather than a female form (gynemorphism). For a useful discussion of the differences between anthropomorphism, andromorphism and gynemorphism see Scobie 2003: 118. These ’îš texts make Rabbi Meir Y. Soloveichik’s (2010: 45) comments puzzling: ‘God’s presence dwells in the Temple and amidst the people of Israel, and the “glory of God” descends onto Sinai and leads Israel through the desert. In that sense, God may be considered to be present in the flesh of the Jewish people…. But Hebrew Scripture never depicts the divine appearing before the Jewish people in human form.’
. That the Lord discloses to Abraham what he is about to do is significant. This is knowledge that friends might share. It is no accident that Abraham is described as God’s friend (cf. Gen. 18:17; Isa. 41:8; John 15:15). Friends can also argue with each other and not break the relationship.
. According to Niehaus (1997), in theophany God takes the initiative always. There are no biblical examples of the creature’s engineering the divine appearance. In other words the God of the Bible is not subject to magical manipulation.
. Friedman (1995: 10) observes that ‘my Lord’ (’ădōnāy, Gen. 18:3) ‘elsewhere in the Bible refers only to God’. Friedman is a Jewish scholar and so when he refers to the Bible it is the Hebrew Bible that is in view.
. The emphases in italics are mine.
. Wenham 2004, comment on Gen. 18:5.
. Ibid., comment on Gen. 18:1.
. Hamori 2008: 13.
. Quoted in Bercot 2002: 643.
. Ibid.
. Calvin 2002a, comment on Gen. 18:9.
. Ibid., comment on Gen. 18:2.
. Sailhamer 1997, comment on Gen. 18:1.
. Quoted in Hamori 2008: 10.
. Ibid. 11.
. Quoted in Kaiser, Jr., et al. 2001. Recent commentators concur. Jewish scholar Levenson (2003: 67), for example, maintains, ‘The fateful encounter at the Jabbok is one of the best-known episodes in the life of Jacob, but also surely the most enigmatic.’
. Hamori 2008: 25.
. Ibid. In her taxonomy of anthropomorphisms Gen. 18 and 32 present ‘concrete anthropomorphisms’. Medieval Jewish thinker Moses Maimonides (1995: 146) cannot accept any physicality in the event. In his view, ‘All this wrestling and conversation took place in prophetic vision.’ However, there is no textual evidence to support his contention. In contrast a contemporary Jewish scholar, James Kugel (2007: 161), describes the story as ‘a narrative that seems to bespeak a most real encounter that took place long, long ago’.
. Levenson 2004: 67–68, note on Gen. 32:25.
. Hamori 2008: 110–111. However, the LXX has ‘angel’ (angelou) in its translation.
. Kaiser, Jr., et al. 2001, comment on Gen. 32.
. Quoted in Bercot 2002: 643.
. For a discussion of the range of suggestions past and present as to the identity of the wrestler see Kaiser, Jr., et al. 2001, and for a more recent survey see Hamori 2008: 13–23.
. House 1998: 80. Calvin 2002a, comment on Gen. 32:24, likewise understands the encounter as between God and Jacob. However, he also regards it as a ‘nocturnal vision’, though there is nothing in the text that suggests it was such (ibid., comment on Gen. 32:26). For a contrary opinion that the figure in view in the text is an angel see Sailhamer 1997, comment on Gen. 32:23–32.
. Fretheim 1984: 81.
. Kaiser, Jr., et al. 2001, in reference to Exod. 24:9–11 draw attention to the way the LXX sought to moderate the force of the anthropomorphic descriptors: ‘The translators who compiled the Greek version of the Old Testament, the Septuagint, were so concerned about any wrong connotations in Exodus 24:9 that they added “in the place where he stood” to the words “they saw the God of Israel.” There is no basis for such an addition, however, except the tendency of this translation to avoid any descriptions of God in terms that are used of human beings (the so-called antianthropomorphic trend of the LXX).’ The LXX translators appear to have seen correctly the force of the anthropomorphic language and were disturbed by it.
. Tigay (2003: 163) cautiously suggests, ‘By focusing on what was under His feet, it seems to suggest that the leaders did not see God directly but from below’ (original italics). However, unless they saw something more directly, how did the text make the spatial judgment that related the ‘pavement’ and the feet?
. This statement is puzzling given Deut. 34:10: ‘no prophet has risen in Israel like Moses, whom the LORD knew face to face [pānîm bĕpānîm]’. Most probably ‘face to face’ is an idiomatic way of asserting that Moses knew God with an unrivalled intimacy. Hamori (2008: 31) suggests, ‘the thrust of the idiom once again relates to the intimacy of the communication, not to literal faces’.
. Fretheim 1984: 186, n. 42.
. Friedman 1995: 16. I am grateful to Dr John Momson for drawing my attention to this book.
. Niehaus 1997.
. Tigay 2003: 111. The evidence he adduces for this claim includes Exod. 33:20–23 as well as Gen. 32:31; Exod. 19:21; Judg. 13:22; Isa. 6:5. I would qualify Tigay’s comment as follows: ‘Although the Bible takes for granted that God can assume a physical (usually humanlike) form… ’.
. Kaiser, Jr., et al. 2001, in reference to Exod. 33:23.
. Ibid.
. Ibid.
. Fox 2003: 308.
. Christensen 2004, comment on Deut. 4:11–24, asserts, ‘The text is careful to specify that the voice of God was heard speaking from the midst of the burning fire, but no form was seen. Since no form was seen on the occasion of that awesome theophany, the people were commanded to make no images.’ Kugel (2003: 92–93) notes, ‘To date, not a single anthropomorphic statue of Israel’s God has turned up at any of the numerous cultic sites excavated within the confines of biblical Israel (or outside of it, for that matter)…. This is hardly a negligible piece of information, especially since it puts ancient Israel in such contrast with Mesopotamia.’ This is one area of obedience that Israel seems to have got right.
. Friedman 1995: 16. Friedman mounts a novel argument that merits attention. He argues that as the storyline unfolds, God disappears as a direct and manifest actor in the Hebrew Bible. He sets out the story’s unfolding in eight steps:
1. Moses sees God at Sinai.
2. Moses, the one man who has seen God, wears a veil.
3. God tells Moses, ‘I shall hide my face from them.’
4. The last time God is said to be ‘revealed’ to a human: the prophet Samuel.
5. The last time God is said to have ‘appeared’ to a human king: King Solomon.
6. The last public miracle: the divine fire for Elijah at Mount Carmel; followed by God’s refusal to appear to Elijah at Horeb/Sinai.
7. The last personal miracle: the shadow reverses before Isaiah and Hezekiah.
8. God is not mentioned in Esther.
Friedman argues that God is allowing human freedom and the taking of responsibility by so disappearing. But there may be a stronger answer, which he himself gives but does not sufficiently develop. He writes (140), ‘Instead of contact with God directly, there was contact with His church. Instead of God directly, contact with His book. Instead of the God who acts (i.e., who acts publicly, visibly, identifiably), God who speaks; or, perhaps: who has spoken.’ Mutatis mutandis does this not also apply to the New Testament revelation regarding Christ? The publicly, visibly, identifiably acting Christ is now the ascended Christ who acts by word and Spirit (cf. 82 and 140). In other words theophany in the Old Testament gives way to progressive inscripturation, and Christophany in the New Testament gives way to progressive inscripturation.
. Ibid. 17.
. Scobie 2003: 113. Earlier in this chapter we saw this with regard to the burning bush in Exod. 3:2–6. In this passage it is the angel of the Lord who is first thematized (v. 2) as appearing within the bush, but next we read that it is God who calls him from within the bush (v. 4). In the patriarchal account of Hagar and Ishmael (Gen. 16:13) Hagar identifies the angel of the Lord as ‘You are the God who sees me,’ for she said, ‘I have now seen the One who sees me.’
. Kaiser, Jr., et al. 2001, in reference to Judg. 6:22–23.
. Niditch 2001: 182.
. Ibid.
. Scobie 2003: 113.
. Bray 2002: 164.
. Ibid.
. Kaiser, Jr., et al. 2001, in reference to Judg. 6:22–23, original emphasis.
. Friedman (1995: 80) comments interestingly, ‘Even books and courses on “the Bible as literature” rarely speak of plot. As I said earlier, most of us are accustomed to studying the small passage or single biblical book. After all, who would have guessed that a work with so many authors, spread out over so many years, would have so continuous a story? We would have expected an anthology of stories, arranged roughly in chronological order, but in fact we have a coherent story. (I must admit that my fundamentalist students give me a knowing wink at this point.)’ Friedman’s (95) explanation for this phenomenon will not convince anyone with a robust view of biblical inspiration: ‘It appears to be a side effect of the Bible’s singular history. A fortuitous side effect.’
. Ibid. 82. For comparative material see Gen. 18:2; 28:13; Amos 7:7; 9:1. Also see n. 36 above.
. Barr 1960: 32.
. Klein (2004) in his section on ‘Samuel and the Word of Yahweh (3:1–21 [4:1a])’ describes it as an ‘auditory message dream theophany’, but I prefer ‘anthropomorphic theophany’.
. Fretheim 1984: 85.
. Taking into account all the relevant references, 1 Kings relates how God appeared twice to Solomon and spoke to him four times, including on the occasion of the two appearances (1 Kgs 3:5–15; 6:11–13; 9:1–9; and 11:11–13, which is a word of judgment).
. Coggins (2001: 443) points out the parallels with the commissioning of Ezekiel as presented in Ezek. 1. He suggests ‘the possibility that the accounts are based on some known form of commissioning’. If so, here again is an example of divine accommodation by which God meets us, where we are placed in history in the form of life that we know.
. On the divine council motif in the passage see Kugel 2007: 545–546. Also see 1 Kgs 22:19–20: ‘Micaiah continued, “Therefore hear the word of the LORD: I saw the LORD sitting on his throne with all the multitudes of heaven standing round him on his right and on his left. And the LORD said, ‘Who will entice Ahab into attacking Ramoth Gilead and going to his death there?’”’ The God of the Bible is presented not only as the King who decrees, but also as the one who deliberates in divine council.
. Sommer (2004: 796) goes too far to suggest, ‘This is one of many passages indicating that some biblical authors conceive of God as a physical being whom a few people can see.’ If Isa. 6 is read in the context of the entire book, the God of Isaiah is transcendent in an unrivalled way. For example, Isa. 31:3 informs the reader that ‘But the Egyptians are mere mortals and not God; / their horses are flesh and not spirit’. The Hebrew synonymous parallelism is illuminating here. Interestingly Sommer has no comment on this claim. In contradistinction see Grogan 1997, comment on Isa. 31:3, for an insightful recognition of the ontological differences expressed in this text.
. Kuntz 1967: 43.
. Ibid.
. It is no accident that in the New Testament we find that the visio Dei (vision of God) is predicated on the necessity of human transformation at the ontological level. We need to be glorified to see the glorious God (cf. Rom. 8:30; 1 Cor. 15:35–57; 2 Cor. 5:1–5; Phil. 3:20–21; 1 John 3:1–3). The ancient principle of connaturality (like knows like; like can reveal like) underlies the need for such a glorious transformation.
. The Hebrew is difficult. Some commentators see no reference to a plumb line in the text but to a tin wall (e.g. Dines [2001: 583] and Stuart [2004] comment on Amos 7:7). And some commentators see no reference to Yahweh as the standing figure. Stuart (2004), for example, does not, but in his comment on Amos 9:1 sees Yahweh presented as a standing figure. However, all the major translations – NRSV, NIV, ESV and JSB – translate ’ănāk as ‘plumb line’.
. Barr 1960: 36. Also see Ezek. 1:26 for another trace of anthropomorphic theophany: ‘Above the vault over their heads was what looked like a throne of lapis lazuli, and high above on the throne was a figure like that of a man.’
. Day 2001: 577.
. Wood 1997, comment on Hos. 11:8–9.
. Fretheim 1984: 149.
. Ibid. 151.
. Ibid. Fretheim is less convincing here. Gideon in Judg. 6:34 is clothed with the Spirit, as the ESV has it (contra NIV). However, Mic. 3:8, which refers to the prophet’s being filled with the Spirit, is a stretch on Fretheim’s part.
. Ibid. 153. Terrien (1978: 241) is speaking in particular of Amos.
. Ibid. 160–162.
. Ibid. 161.
. Ibid. 165, original emphasis.
. Ibid.
. Ibid. 166.
Chapter 3: God prepares the way in Israel’s hope
. J. D. W. Watts 2002b, comments on Isa. 40:31: ‘They are those waiting on Yahweh. The word qāwâ may mean “wait” or “hope.” Here the ideas overlap: “waiting hope” or “hopeful waiting”’ (original emphasis).
. Gowan 2006: 149–150.
. If this chapter were on Israel’s hope more generally speaking, I would suggest five concentric circles as a heuristic device for a fruitful reading of Old Testament Scripture. The outermost circle is hope for the cosmos, as in Isa. 65 – 66, with the new heavens and the new earth; the next circle would be hope for the nations, with even Assyria and Egypt given a future with God, as in Isa. 19; then hope for Israel itself, as in Jer. 31 and the new covenant; next hope for agents of the divine purpose to come, as in Mal. 4 and Elijah, to name only one such; and finally and innermost the hope for Yahweh himself to come, as in Ps. 96.
. That disobedience cannot be reduced to the merely human level given the biblical testimony. Christianity has classically observed disorder begun first in the angelic realm. Also see C. Plantinga 1995: 93–95.
. Scobie 2003: 92.
. For example, Terrien 1978: 227: ‘Traditionally, the prophets of Israel have been viewed as the announcers of the Messiah. In fact, however, very few of their utterances were concerned with messianic hope, even when they hailed the advent of God upon a new earth.’
. Dearman 2002: 32.
. Ibid. 45.
. Ibid. 46.
. Segal 2002: 130.
. Ibid. 136.
. N. T. Wright 2002a: 50.
. Warfield 1968: 79. This quotation is taken from an article that first appeared in 1916.
. Ibid. 86, 88, 102 and 116 respectively. There is an able examination in Zaspel (2010: 214–220) of Warfield’s argument for an Old Testament expectation of a divine Messiah.
. Warfield 1968: 126.
. Ibid. 96–97.
. Ibid. 97. Correct references at [sic] are Ps. ii.9, Zech. ix.9, Zech. iii.9b, 10.
. Ibid. 99.
. Ibid. 100.
. Ortlund, Jr., 2011: 40–42, esp. 42. He also considers Prov. 8, a text beloved by the ancient Arians, and argues (42–44) that it is not germane to the deity of Christ question despite the labours of patristic writers such as Gregory Nazianzen.
. Ibid. 46.
. Ibid. 47, my emphasis.
. Ibid., my emphasis.
. Ibid. 51.
. Ibid. 54. Interestingly Ortlund, Jr., quotes with approval Warfield’s discussion of the divine Messiah with regard to this verse.
. Ibid. 49.
. Ibid. 56.
. Ibid. 58.
. Berlin and Brettler 2004: 1332.
. Wills 2004: 1656.
. Rodd 2001: 380. What drives the quest for an alternative reading? George H. Guthrie (2007: 937) helps to answer the question: ‘Such an address would not have been out of place in ancient Egypt but in Israel it is the sole example.’
. Kidner 1973, comment on Ps. 45:6.
. Ibid., comment on Ps. 45:7.
. Craigie 2002, comment on Ps. 45:3–9 (my emphasis in bold). In fact arguably the psalm taken as a whole undermines the notion of a divine-human Messiah as the primary referent. For in Ps. 45:8–17 we read of the king’s consort and their progeny. Interestingly Roman Catholics see the queen here as a reference to Mary (e.g. Broderick 1987: 374). Similarly 2 Sam. 7:14, with its reference to divine forgiveness for the Davidic king, disqualifies the primary referent as a divine-human Messiah. Typologically considered, however, both Ps. 45 and 2 Sam. 7 betray trajectories that legitimately point to the divine-human Christ who indeed came. I owe these insights to D. A. Carson in private correspondence.
. For an excellent treatment of Ps. 45:6–7 in both its Old Testament context and in its New Testament recontextualization as found in Heb. 1:8–9 see G. H. Guthrie 2007: 936–939.
. On throne names see Matthews, Chavalas and Walton 2000, comment on Isa. 9:6. Also see the excursus on throne names in J. D. W. Watts 2002a, comment on Isa. 9:6–7.
. Grogan 1997, comment on Isa. 9:6.
. Motyer 1999, comment on Isa. 9:6.
. Sommer 2004: 802.
. Ibid.
. Kugel 2007: 552.
. Ibid.
. Coggins 2001, comment on Isa. 9:6.
. Ibid.
. Motyer 1999.
. Interestingly Isa. 9:6 is not quoted in any New Testament document. Matt. 4:12–17 does quote Isa. 9:1–2 in relation to Jesus’ beginning his preaching ministry in Galilee. In view is Christ’s ministry though and not his divinity. See Blomberg 2007: 18–19. Blomberg (2007) argues that in its Old Testament context Isa. 9:6 envisions ‘no mere mortal’.
. R. E. Watts 2007: 134.
. Scobie 2003: 340, original emphasis.
. Ibid.
. Wills 2004: 1656–1657.
. Archer, Jr., 1997, comment on Dan. 7:13–14, my emphasis.
. R. E. Watts 2007: 134.
. Ibid. 133.
. C. J. H. Wright 1992: 149.
. G. H. Guthrie 2007: 943. According to Guthrie, Ps. 110:1 is cited twenty-two times in the New Testament.
. Berlin and Brettler 2004: 1284.
. Kidner 1995, comment on Ps. 110:1.
. Longenecker (1994: 376–377) states that it was not until AD 260 that rabbis understood Ps. 110:1 as messianic. Up until then they viewed the text as referring to God’s speaking to Abraham, to David or to Hezekiah.
. Ortlund, Jr., 2011: 39.
. For an excellent nuanced treatment of this greater significance see Beale in Beale 1994: 392–393. He points out how ‘the latter parts of biblical history function as the broader context to interpret earlier parts because they all have the same, ultimate divine author who inspires the various human authors, and one deduction from this premise is that Christ as the center of history is the key to interpreting the earlier portions of the Old Testament and its promises’ (original emphasis).
. Gowan 2006: 39.
. Ibid. Gowan rightly contends that Roman occupation fuelled such a hope.
. Bock 2005: 504.
. Ibid.
. Quoted in Kee 1980: 174.
. Bock 2005: 504.
. Quoted in Dyrness 1998: 200, original emphasis.
. ‘Woman “Blessed by the Holy Toast” ’ <http://www.hotspotsz.com/Woman_blessed_By_The_Holy_Toast_(Article-13486).html>, accessed 4 Dec. 2010.
. Barth, CD III/1: 91.
. Brueggemann 2002: 16.
. Hanson 1993: 784, my emphasis.
. Ibid. 783–784.
. For a first-rate discussion of typology as a method of interpretation see Hugenberger 1994: 331–341.
. Carson 2012: 75.
. Ibid.
. Ibid.
. Ibid.
. Ibid.
. Ibid. 49.
. Ibid.
. Ibid. 37. Carson’s language ‘more than a little blended’ is a tad too strong. The sequence in Ezek. 34 of first the derelict shepherds, Yahweh’s intention to rescue, his judging between lean and fat sheep and then the setting up of a Davidic prince as a ruler after the rescue and judgment suggest more a juxtaposing of images than their blending.
. Ibid. 75–76, my emphasis.
. Warfield 1968: 30.
Chapter 4: The great mystery
. Beale and Carson 2007: xxvii. They contend that this idea of mystery is one that pervades the New Testament more than the twenty-seven or twenty-eight explicit uses of mystērion (mystery) might at first suggest. Dunn (2009: 185) takes a contrary view in arguing that ‘In biblical texts, mystery does not refer to undisclosed secrets, but rather to divine secrets now revealed by divine agency’ (original emphasis). This is puzzling. What is the difference between something undisclosed until revealed, and a secret now being an open one?
. Blomberg, ‘Further Reflections on Jesus’ View of the Old Testament’, unpublished paper (2010), 35, my emphasis. According to Blomberg (36), ‘Jesus is credited in the four Gospels with quoting from Deuteronomy 22 times, Psalms 19 times, Exodus 14 times, Isaiah 11 times, Leviticus 7 times, Genesis 6 times, Daniel 5 times, Hosea 3 times, Numbers, Malachi and Zechariah twice each, and Micah and Jonah once each’ (original emphasis).
. A case in point is how Jesus creatively applied to himself and his context both Daniel and a psalm (cf. Dan. 7:13; Ps. 110:1; Mark 14:62). For an insightful discussion see R. E. Watts 2007: 112, 233–235.
. Acts 16:14 provides a parallel with reference to Lydia’s hearing Paul’s gospel message: ‘One of those listening was a woman from the city of Thyatira named Lydia, a dealer in purple cloth. She was a worshipper of God. The Lord opened [dianoichein] her heart to respond to Paul’s message.’ The reference to the heart (kardia) in this text and the reference to the mind (nous) in Luke 24:45 strongly suggests that ‘open’ rather than ‘interpret’ or ‘translate’ is the best way to render the Greek.
. Pao and Schnabel 2007: 400.
. C. J. H. Wright 1992: 110.
. In my view the early church did not confer authority on the books of the New Testament. Books were included because their inherent authority was recognized. However, the early Christians were clearly responsible for sequencing the books of the New Testament. Someone wisely put Matthew first and Revelation last. The fact that the early church ordered the canon can easily become the idea that the early church created the authority of the canon. But this is a mistake, I’d argue.
. Blomberg 2007: 1.
. The genealogy in Luke 3:23–38 provides an illuminating contrast. Luke begins with Joseph and climaxes with Adam, the son of God. The Lucan account places the Jesus story in the framework of universal history, while the Matthean one sets Jesus within the history of Abraham and his descendants. Although it needs pointing out that the Matthean account ultimately has the whole world in view (cf. Gen. 12:1–3 and Matt. 28:18–20).
. Allison, Jr. (2001: 849), favours the view that the Gentile status of the women, rather than the atypical circumstances of their conceiving children, was the reason for their Matthean inclusion. I’d argue that this is not an either–or but a both–and.
. Ibid. Allison, Jr. (ibid.), takes the view that the use of the title ‘Emmanuel’ drawn from Isa. 7:14 ‘does not entail that Jesus is God’. The homage (prosekynēsan, ‘they worshipped’) offered by the Magi suggests otherwise (Matt. 2:11). When worship is offered to apostles and angels it is rejected as inappropriate, as worship should be directed only towards God (cf. Matt. 2:11 and Acts 14:8–18, where the idea is present; and Rev. 22:8–9, where proskynein is actually used twice). Having said that, the language of proskynein may simply in places mean the protocol one adopts before a great one (e.g. Matt. 8:2, which both the NIV and ESV translate more literally as ‘knelt’). However, the next use of proskynein after the Magi story is in Matt. 4:8–10, in the context of the devil’s attempt to persuade Jesus to abandon his obedience to his messianic task. France (1985: 87) offers this comment: ‘The verb worship (proskyneō) need mean no more than to pay homage to a human dignitary, but Matthew frequently uses it in contexts where Jesus’ more-than-human status is recognized (e.g. 14:33; 28:9, 17), and the same implication may be present here.’ On balance then ‘worship’ makes the better sense in Matt. 2:2, 11.
. Blomberg 2007: 4.
. For the substance of this paragraph I am indebted to ibid. 3–7. Jesus is fully human but not merely human. He is essentially human but not commonly human. (I owe these distinctions to T. V. Morris 2001.) Like Jesus, Adam and Eve had no human father and yet their essential humanity is never under debate in Scripture.
. Compare Matthew’s fifty-five quotations of the Old Testament (twenty of which are in Matthew alone and twice as many as Mark’s) with a relatively fewer number of Old Testament quotations in Mark’s account (see Blomberg 2007: 1). How quotations and allusions are reckoned is a debatable point.
. Moritz 2005: 481. For the substance of this paragraph I am indebted to Moritz’s fine discussion.
. R. E. Watts 2007: 122.
. Moritz 2005: 482.
. Tuckett (2001: 891) argues that ‘strictly Jesus does no more than declare God’s forgiveness’. This is unconvincing given the scribes’ reaction to Jesus. Keener’s (1993) comment on Mark 2:5 suggests, ‘Strictly speaking, therefore, these legal scholars would have been mistaken in interpreting Jesus’ words as blasphemy, even by their own rules. But the term was used much more broadly in popular parlance in this period, and they may apply it in the general sense of dishonoring the divine name.’
. Moritz 2005: 484, my emphasis.
. Attridge 2001: 1236.
. The superiority (kreittōn) of the Son is the thesis of the letter. He is superior not only to angels but is a better priest than the Levitical order could provide, and he provides a better sacrifice and ushers in a better covenant than the Mosaic one, which leads to a better country informed by better promises. Jewish Christians in danger of letting go their Christian distinctives in the face of outside pressures needed to be reminded of this superiority and should not drift from the message they had first embraced (Heb. 2:1).
. For a discussion of how the writer of Hebrews uses Old Testament Scripture and of the nature of the ḥārûz method see G. H. Guthrie 2007: 923. Also see the fine discussion of how the writer to the Hebrews uses Ps. 45:6–7 in application to Jesus in a way that goes beyond but not against the psalm when set in its Old Testament context, where in that context it applied to the Davidic king’s acting in a Godlike way with a Godlike character. See Harris 1992: esp. 200, 202, n. 73, and 227.
. The NIV has ‘salvation’ twice in Heb. 2:3 but actually it occurs only once. The nrsv and ESV are to be preferred here.
. In the next chapter we shall explore this important passage further with reference to the rationale of the incarnation.
. Both G. H. Guthrie (2007: 944) and Attridge (2001: 1239) recognize that Hebrews presents the incarnation. Jewish scholar Eisenbaum (2011: 409) likewise: ‘For Hebrews, Jesus is both fully human and fully divine.’
. Friedman 1995: 126.
. Ibid.
. Brown and Loades 1996: 3.
. Carson (2010: 113) says, ‘We are supposed to read it both ways. That is the way the Gospel of John has been written: the more we read it, the more we see new connections that are there in the text’ (original emphasis).
. An excellent discussion of this point is found in Bauckham 1998: 74–75 of how the story of Jesus becomes part of the identity of the God of Israel. He calls (78) his position a ‘Christology of divine identity’.
. With reference to John 1:14–18 Bauckham (ibid. 74) argues, ‘All these terms [‘glory’, ‘grace’ and ‘truth’] allude to the story of God’s self revelation of himself to Moses in Exodus 33–34, in which the central character description of God occurs.’ On the importance of Exod. 33 – 34 for the doctrine of God see Cole 2008: 24–36.
. Köstenberger 2007: 422.
. Dunn 2008: III, 37. Dunn (2009: 37) argues that John 1:14 is ‘the definitive statement of the Christian understanding of incarnation’. How the language of ‘definitive’ squares with an earlier statement of his (31) is not obvious: ‘But if so, the danger is that we forget that incarnation is at best a heuristic term, a term seeking definition even while offering definition, and try to give it a precision that is not possible’ (37, original emphasis).
. Some see in the Prologue a wisdom story with Jewish parallels. For example, 1 Enoch 42.1–2 (the dating of this work is difficult) combines a descending and an ascending personified wisdom in narrative form. Wisdom looks for a place to dwell with humankind but is unsuccessful and returns to the heavens. However, this contention is effectively critiqued by Elbert IV (2011: 51), who concludes, ‘To suggest that John had this type of Jewish Wisdom story [1 Enoch 42.1–2] in mind is not convincing. There are no substantive parallels in the Jewish literature for the incarnation. In John’s prologue, we are moving well beyond anything ever said of Wisdom.’ For a contrary view on the Prologue and Jesus as the personification of wisdom incarnate see Treier 2005: 845.
. France 1970: 47, my emphasis.
. Köstenberger 2011: 109. N. T. Wright 2008: 96 adds to the point, ‘This is the plan that throughout the Bible is articulated in terms of God’s choice of Israel as the means of redemption and then, after the long and checkered story of God and Israel, God’s sending of his son, Jesus. Incarnation – already adumbrated in the Jewish tradition in terms not least of the Temple as the place where God chooses to live on earth – is not a category mistake, as Platonists ancient and modern imagine. It is the center and fulfillment of the long-term plan of the good and wise creator.’
. These resonances, or, to use Köstenberger’s phrase, ‘preliminary anticipations’, suggest that the tabernacle and temple were types of Christ as the antitype. Typologically there is a better case for the church as temple of the Holy Spirit – note, not the temple of Christ – as the antitype. See the discussion in McKelvey 2001: 806–811: ‘The church is the temple of God, or of God’s Spirit, and never the temple of Christ.’
. Beale 2004: 195. John 1:51 could usefully be discussed at this point but will be left to the next chapter.
. Bauckham 1998: 74. The italics are original. The bold is my emphasis.
. Hill 1993: 538.
. Williams III 2001.
. O’Brien (1993: 621) points out, ‘Mystērion appears twenty-one times in Paul’s letters out of a total of twenty-seven NT occurrences. Usually it points not to some future event hidden in God’s plan, but to his decisive action in Christ here and now. Paul normally employs the term with reference to its disclosure or its being revealed (Rom 16:25–26; 1 Cor 2:10; Col 1:26–27; Eph 1:9; 3:3, 5).’ The text in view in 1 Tim. 3 is the only one in which the Pauline use of the term ‘mystery’ includes the incarnation. Some might argue in that light that too much is being asked of one text. However, there is only one text that tells the story of the tower of Babel (Gen. 11) and there is only one account of the day of Pentecost (Acts 2). 1 Tim. 3:16 appears in hymnic material that presumably had wide currency in early Christianity.
. Ibid.
. Towner 1994: 97. O’ Brien (1993: 621) usefully comments, ‘In 1 Timothy 3:16 the unusual expression “the mystery (mystērion) of godliness” (“our religion,” nrsv) appears. “Godliness,” a favorite term in 1 Timothy, which usually refers to “the duty which people owe to God,” is here understood in an objective way to refer to the content or basis of Christianity.’
. Pauline authorship of 1 Timothy is widely rejected in scholarship. However, for a spirited defence of Pauline authorship – the position adopted in this study – see Schnabel 2012: 383–403.
. For a canvassing of the options see Mounce 2002, comment on 1 Tim. 3:14–16. The first view that Mounce covers on how to structure the hymn can be found in Barrett 1963: 65–66, comment on 1 Tim. 3:14–16. The third view that Mounce treats can be seen in Drury 2001: 1225, comment on 1 Tim. 3:14–16. This is the chiastic approach. Mounce (2002) himself argues for what he describes as the second one.
. Mounce 2002. Mounce 2002, comment on 1 Tim. 3:14–16, points out that ‘Most agree that the first line of the hymn refers to Christ’s incarnation.’ Interestingly when O’Brien (1993: 621) discusses the hymn, he argues, ‘The hymn’s focus is upon Christ’s humiliation and exaltation, and Christians’ ongoing praise of him as the exalted and glorified One.’ True, but the first line – ‘He appeared in the flesh’ – is not to be passed over without comment if justice is to be done to the hymn.
. Marshall 1982: 10.
. Lossky 1976: 138. For a fine discussion of ‘mystery’ in Pauline usage see Carson 2004: 393–436. Carson argues (424) that ‘The occurrence in 1 Timothy 3:16 is clearly bound up with the incarnation, in so far as the incarnation is tied to the heart of the gospel.’
. Wolterstorff 1984: 66, original emphasis.
. Ibid. 67.
. Ibid.
. Liddon 1908: 59–60. These words first appeared in print in 1866.
. Ibid. 60.
. Friedman 1995: 136, original emphasis. Writing from a Jewish perspective, Friedman shows remarkable insight into what can be read in the New Testament literature. This should not surprise. He knows how to read a book. The noetic effects of sin do not mean that the New Testament cannot be understood without regeneration. What it means rather is that there is no affection for that testimony without the work of the Spirit (see 1 Cor. 2:11–14). Jesus both expected Nicodemus to understand the doctrine of the new birth and told him of the need to be born again (cf. John 3:7, where the ‘you’ is plural, and 3:10).
. Hanson 1965: 170. Hanson quotes (169) from Ignatius and Irenaeus to show that the early church recognized the newness in God’s dealings that the coming of Jesus into the world represented.
. This Pauline claim expresses the highest of Christologies. Not only is the full deity of Christ affirmed but so is his real humanity. As N. T. Wright (1986: 171) comments, ‘We should not, however, drive a wedge between the two [Col. 1:19; 2:9]. Part of Paul’s point is that the incarnation, the taking of “bodily” form by God, was and is the “solid reality” in which were fulfilled all the earlier foreshadowings, all the ancient promises that God would dwell with his people. The word theotēs, translated “the Deity”, is to be distinguished from theiotēs, “divinity” – an attribute that might conceivably be possessed by a being of lesser standing than God himself.’
. Quoted in Colle 1994: 96.
. Blackham 2001a.
. Blackham 2005: 35–47. The substance of this paragraph is indebted to this article.
. Quoted in ibid. 37.
. Blackham 2001b. Malone (2005) is critical of Blackham’s use of historical sources, especially of Owen. Malone points out the restraint that Owen exhibited regarding Christophanies: ‘Owen arguably finds fewer christophanies than do some christophanist scholars’ and ‘neither is he [Owen] comfortable speculating about biblical events without sufficient warrant’. I might add that in this Owen truly followed the spirit of Calvin. Greidanus (1999: 197) makes a similar point about contemporary scholars and preachers who are quick to see Christophanies in Old Testament figures such as the Angel of Yahweh, the Commander of the Lord’s army and the Wisdom of God. He writes with particular reference to preaching from the Old Testament, ‘Not only does the speculation involved put the sermon on a shaky footing, but this identification of Christ with Old Testament figures short-circuits the task of preaching Christ as the fullness of God’s self-revelation in his incarnate Son, Jesus.’
. For a sympathetic and accurate exposition of Blackham’s position see Saville n.d.
. For the substance of this paragraph see Goldsworthy 2001.
. Quoted in Greidanus 1999: 142.
. A point recognized by Beale and Carson (2007: xxvii).
Chapter 5: Cur Deus homo
. Law 2000: 303.
. Ibid. 302.
. Kierkegaard (1941a: 528) says, ‘The paradox consists principally in the fact that God, the Eternal, came into existence in time as a particular man.’
. Kierkegaard 1936, emphasis original.
. Anselm intentionally wrote his work as though he knew nothing of Christ. He expounds what he sees as the human predicament and how an incarnation and atonement provided by a God-man can remedy the problem that reason has uncovered. It contrasts then with the present one that seeks to discover how the Bible itself answers his question. The methodology could not be more different. For a useful treatment of Anselm’s appeal to reason see González 1987: 158–167.
. I elaborate on these claims in Cole 2009b: 103–119, and so shall not expand on them here.
. Oden 1992: 271, original emphasis. By ‘biblically defensible’ I mean claims that have exegetical grounding rather than are the products of theological speculation.
. I prefer the ESV to the NIV here as the ESV follows the more difficult reading (lectio difficilior). The NIV renders the Greek, ‘No one has ever seen God, but the one and only Son, who is himself God and is in the closest relationship with the Father, has made him known.’
. Kieffer 2001: 963.
. Ibid.
. Another example of connaturality is found in 1 Cor. 2:10b–11 in relation to the Spirit and the depths of God.
. Balthasar 1986: 52.
. Ramsey 1969: 98. Balthasar (1986: 67) strikingly says of Jesus, ‘He is the Father’s fragrance in the world.’
. I prefer the ESV here to the NIV. The reference to ‘name’ is freighted with revelatory significance that ‘you’ (NIV) simply does not capture: ‘I have revealed you to those whom you gave me out of the world’ (NIV). Happily the NIV does have ‘name’ in the footnotes.
. Köstenberger 2007: 498.
. Carson 2010: 117.
. Kruse (2003: 75) helpfully comments on John 1:18, ‘The word used for “making known” is exēgeomai, which means to “set forth in great detail” or “expound”. Its cognate is exēgēsis, which in its anglicized form is used to mean “exegesis”/“exposition”. The evangelist is saying, then, that the Word (Jesus), being God the one and only, at the Father’s side, the only one who has seen God, has “expounded” him, made him known, through his person, words and works.’ Even so, it is important to note that although revelation is a leading motif in the Christology of the Fourth Gospel it is not Gnosticism, as though salvation comes by enlightenment. Right from the very first chapter Jesus is presented as not only the Word become flesh who exegetes the Father but as the ‘Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world’ (cf. John 1:1, 14, 18, 29).
. Stott 1986: 105.
. Ibid. Longenecker 2002, comment on Gal. 4:4, is much more reticent than Stott in seeing any reference to Christ’s pre-existence in the sending-of-the-Son language.
. Stott 1986: 105. A point well made by Stott.
. L. Morris 1997, comment on Heb. 2:17.
. Lane 2002, comment on Heb. 7:26.
. G. H. Guthrie 2007: 975. I am indebted to Guthrie for the substance of this paragraph.
. Ibid. 977.
. The language of substitution used with reference to Christ’s work is highly controversial, especially if the atonement is in view and penal substitution is being claimed. However, in my view, much of the debate is bedevilled by a category mistake. Sin is compared to crime. How can the innocent suffer for the guilty. But sin is a religious category. In the divine court it is the judge who is the offended party, not some impersonal law that a judge who has not been offended is to administer impartially. For an example of this category mistake see Crisp (2008: 208–227), who makes over a dozen references to ‘crime’ in his discussion of the logic of penal substitution.
. The phrase ‘incarnational event’ I owe to R. P. Martin 2002, comment on 2 Cor. 8:9.
. Bringing 2 Cor. 8:9 and 5:21 into conversation presupposes the integrity of 2 Cor. 1 – 9. I follow Carson and Moo 2005: 442 here. For the various arguments about the composition of 2 Corinthians see ibid. 429–442.
. Quoted in Cole 2009b: 139.
. Ibid. 140. Scholars do indeed attempt to avoid the language of substitution. For example, Margaret MacDonald (2001: 1141): ‘The reference to the one who knew no sin having been made sin (v. 21) may refer to the sinless Christ taking on sin as a burden or being treated as a sinner for the sake of humanity (Gal. 3:13); sin may also refer to sin-offering here (Rom. 8:3; cf. Isa. 53:4–10).’ This is too tepid given Gal. 3:13, where the language of substitution is strongly present: ‘Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us [hyper hēmōn katara, ‘on behalf of us a curse’], for it is written: “Cursed is everyone who is hung on a pole.”’ N. T. Wright (in McCormack 2006: 252–253) provides another example. He argues that Paul is not talking soteriologically but vocationally. Paul becomes in Christ an embodiment of the righteousness or covenant faithfulness of God in his apostolic ministry of preaching reconciliation. This is far too subtle to be plausible in context.
. Tennent (2007: 179) writes of the expectations of Pentecostals concerning the Holy Spirit’s present-day activity, including the Spirit’s ‘demonic deliverance of evil’. His ground-breaking study of systematic theology in dialogue with various world religions would have been enhanced if a whole chapter had been devoted to the subject of the devil and the demonic in, for example, Africa.
. Hiebert 1994: 196.
. Ibid. 189.
. In recent years it has become increasingly popular to present Jesus as committed to non-violence. Hence we see the rise of non-violent theories of the atonement; e.g. see Sanders 2006. However, how do Jesus’ exorcisms fit into this picture of Jesus? Once more ‘the flaw of the excluded middle’ appears to be at work.
. Peterson 1994, comment on Heb. 2:14–15, offers an explanation in the light of the wider argument of Hebrews: ‘We can only be released from Satan’s power and freed to serve God by the forgiveness or cleansing made possible by Jesus’ death (cf. 9:14–15, 27–28; 10:19–22). He removes the threat of judgment and condemnation for those who trust in him and gives the assurance of life in the world to come.’
. Kratos is translated as ‘power’ in Heb. 2:14 (NIV) but may also be rendered as ‘rule’.
. G. H. Guthrie 1998: 110. D. Guthrie (1983: 96) argues, ‘It is worth noting that in the Greek text the order is blood and flesh. It has been suggested that “blood” alludes to Christ’s shedding of blood, which is then given as the reason for his becoming flesh, i.e. the atonement required the incarnation’ (original emphasis). This is indeed suggestive but difficult to ground in the text.
. A point well made and developed by Lane 2002, comment on Heb. 2:14–15, in the light of the Old Testament presentation of God as warrior and intertestamental literature as well as Greek literature.
. Smalley 2002, comment on 1 John 3:8, original emphasis.
. Ibid.
. Calvin 2002b: 2.12.3, my emphases.
. I prefer the ESV here: ‘whoever says he abides in him ought to walk in the same way in which he walked’. This preserves a fundamental idea in Jewish ethics, namely the walking in the ways of God.
. Oden 1992: 271, original emphasis.
. There is much debate over whether Phil. 2:6–11 is a hymn. P. T. O’Brien argues yes, but G. D. Fee argues no. For a discussion of the debate see Carson and Moo 2005: 499–503, esp. 499, n. 1, which refers to O’Brien’s and Fee’s different stances. For a useful treatment of Phil. 2:6–11 in the context of other New Testament hymns, hymn fragments, songs and spiritual songs see Martin 2001. The journey metaphor I employ reflects the stimulating work of B. N. Fisk, who shows the illuminating parallels between early Greek novels with their V-shaped plot structure (high status gives way to humiliation before triumph and ultimate exaltation) and that of the Philippian hymn. He argues that the V-shaped plot pattern may have resonated with Paul’s first readers, not that Paul was dependent upon such novels. See Fisk in C. S. Evans 2006: 45–73.
. The fact that the text speaks of Christ’s emptying himself to enter the state of humiliation has spawned a whole school of Christological thought (kenotic Christologies). For a recent exploration see C. S. Evans 2006. Evans (4) explains the kenotic Christology of Phil. 2:6–11 in these terms: ‘The Greek verb employed here, “kenoo”, meaning to “empty oneself ”, inspired these theologians [kenoticists] to consider the idea that, in becoming a human being, God the Son in some way limited or temporarily divested himself of some of the properties thought to be divine prerogatives, and this act of self-emptying has become known as “kenosis”.’ Suffice it to say that much doctrinal and metaphysical speculation appears to have been built on a single word (v. 7, ekenōsen, ‘emptied’). Gordon Fee would dispute this in ibid., ch. 2, where he argues that Hebrews and the Synoptic Gospels provide further evidence for the kenotic theory. One claim, however, that can safely be made in the light of John 17:5 is that the Christ for our sakes emptied himself of the glory [doxa] to which he was entitled: ‘And now, Father, glorify me in your presence with the glory I had with you before the world began.’ According to S. T. Davis and C. S. Evans (ibid. 314) this would make the writer ‘a kenoticist in at least a limited sense’.
. Some scholars argue that Paul has an Adam–Christ contrast in mind and that the incarnation per se is not in view in the passage. For example, see Hooker (2002: 504–505) who contends that ‘The use of Adamic imagery elsewhere encourages us to suppose that it underlies Philippians 2–3, where we have similar ideas of Christ’s becoming human, with the result that men and women become what he is.’ For a fine discussion of the scholarly possibilities and also his defence of the more traditional incarnational view see R. Murray 2001: 1184–1186; see also G. D. Fee in C. S. Evans 2006: 30–35 for a convincing exegesis of the text and an able counter to the Adam–Christ thesis.
. Glenn 1963: 312. For the original see the Summa Theologica III.a, Q. 5. For the online version see Aquinas 2007.
. Augustine 2007b: 1.1.
. Glenn 1963: 312, Q. 6. Aquinas (2007) wrote, ‘I answer that, As it was not fitting that God should become incarnate at the beginning of the world, so also it was not fitting that the Incarnation should be put off till the end of the world’ (original emphasis).
. The concept of the fittingness of divine action to circumstance has solid New Testament grounding (see prepon, ‘fitting’; see Matt. 3:15; Heb. 2:10 and esp. 7:26).
. For the Chalcedonian definition see Bettenson and Maunder 1999: 56. Macleod (1998: 221) suggests that to ascribe sinlessness to Christ means asserting that Christ ‘was free of actual sin’ and ‘free from inherent sin’. For a useful discussion of Christ’s sinlessness see B. Ware 2010: 9–17.
. For Barth’s position see CD I/2: 155–159 and IV/1: 159, 234, 252. For Crisp’s see Crisp 2009: 122–136.
. For the substance of this paragraph I am drawing on Crisp 2009: 122–136.
. The question might be raised as to whether Jesus’ experience of hunger and tiredness point towards his assuming a fallen human nature. However, there is no reason to think that hunger is a post-Fall phenomenon only. In the Garden why would the first couple eat unless hungry? Hunger is not necessarily starvation. As for tiredness, there is a tiredness that is pathological, but there is also a tiredness that simply indicates the need for rest. Indeed even outside Eden there is a tiredness that is pleasant when it comes with the satisfaction of a job achieved.
. N. T. Wright 2002b: 578.
. Dunn 2004, comment on Rom. 8:3.
. Calvin 2002c, comment on Rom. 8:3.
. Dumbrell 2005: 85.
. Ibid.
. Rom. 5:14 is the key text: ‘Nevertheless, death reigned from the time of Adam to the time of Moses, even over those who did not sin by breaking a command, as did Adam, who is a pattern of the one to come [typos tou mellontos, ‘a type of the one coming’].’
. T. V. Morris 2001.
. Crisp 2009: 136.
. Barth, CD I/2: 155.
. For a useful discussion of the theological entailments of embracing either the unfallen or the fallen human nature view see Macleod 1998: 221–230. He sees real strengths in Edward Irving’s, Karl Barth’s, Thomas Torrance’s and James Torrance’s arguments for the assumption of fallen human nature by the Son of God. However, in my view he rightly points out the even greater weaknesses in them and so advocates the classical unfallen human nature position. In particular he points out the difficulties in distinguishing the idea of Christ’s assuming fallen human nature and that of Christ’s assuming sinful human nature. He also addresses the legitimacy of the use of the principle enunciated by Gregory Nazianzen, by pointing to the original context in which the principle was proposed in contradistinction to the contemporary debate about unfallen versus fallen human nature, that the unassumed cannot be healed. For a contrary view see Torrance 2008: 61–65 and Gunton 2002: 67–68, 101.
. Gunton 2002: 67.
Chapter 6: The significance of the incarnation
. Hiebert 2000: 242.
. Ibid. 244.
. The term ‘visited planet’ I have taken from the short story written by J. B. Phillips (n.d.). The idea of visitation has solid biblical roots. In Luke 19:42–44 Jesus laments over Jerusalem, ‘Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade round you and surround you and hem you in on every side and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation [episkopē]’ (ESV).
. Barth, CD IV/1: 16–17, my emphasis. If Barth had included Scripture in his list, then he might have developed a more robust doctrine of inspiration than he actually did.
. Thomasius (1802–75) was the most eminent of the nineteenth-century kenoticists. See the useful discussion of his view in Thompson 2006: 78–85.
. Altizer n.d.
. Milne 2009: 200.
. Contra Marcellus of Ancyra (c. AD 280–374) who thought that in salvation history we see an extrapolation from the Godhead in the coming of the Son and further extrapolation from the Godhead in the coming of the Holy Spirit. However, at the denouement of all things these extrapolations were returned to the Godhead and thus God returns to oneness. This is how he understood 1 Cor. 15:28: ‘When he [Jesus] has done this [put down all opposition to the divine rule], then the Son himself will be made subject to him who put everything under him, so that God may be all in all.’ See Pelikan 1971: 207–209. The Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed of AD 381 includes the phrase ‘and his kingdom will have no end’ to exclude Marcellianism.
. Quoted in Harkness 1961. She writes that Temple concludes, ‘Christianity is the most “materialistic” of all religions because, though it subordinates matter to spirit, it finds sacredness in everything God has made.’
. Byassee 2007: 127.
. This Johannine text contains many important ideas. Theological claims need to be tested (dokimazein). The nature of one’s Christology constitutes a key test. The incarnation is a facet of Christology that serves as a theological criterion.
. There is debate as to whether 1 John 4 addresses full-blown Docetism; hence I have used the language of ‘precursor’. For a judicious discussion of the debate see Carson and Moo 2005: 677–682. Carson and Moo conclude that John is dealing with some form of ‘proto-Gnosticism’. Carson and Moo (678) in discussing Gnosticism describe it as ‘theosophical potpourri… anchored in neoplatonic dualism’. Neoplatonism came to the fore in the third century AD with Plotinus, who died in 270. Middle Platonism, which came earlier than Plotinus, is a better candidate in my view.
. Macquarrie 1996: 30.
. Noll 2011: 7, original emphases. Noll does not state that he is addressing Docetism per se in these words, but they are eminently applicable to that view.
. Quoted in Noll 2011: 34. Noll himself (35) concludes, ‘In sum, to confess the material reality of the incarnation is to perceive an unusual dignity in the material world itself.’
. Scripture knows of a number of antitheses: light versus darkness (e.g. 1 John 1:5), Spirit versus the flesh in the Pauline sense of flesh (e.g. Gal. 5:17), and faith versus sight (e.g. 2 Cor. 5:7), to name a few. Spirit versus matter is not one of them.
. Plato n.d. Plato’s Gorgias reads, ‘Socrates compliments Callicles on his frankness in saying what other men only think. According to his view, those who want nothing are not happy. “Why,” says Callicles, “if they were, stones and the dead would be happy.” Socrates in reply is led into a half-serious, half-comic vein of reflection. “Who knows,” as Euripides says, “whether life may not be death, and death life?” Nay, there are philosophers who maintain that even in life we are dead, and that the body (soma) is the tomb (sema) of the soul.’
. Trueblood 1969: 14–15.
. Interestingly, although the notion of imago Dei is integral to any biblically informed theological anthropology, I am unaware of any biblical text that connects it with the incarnation of Christ. John’s Prologue tells us that the logos (the Word) became sarx (flesh), not eikōn (image).
. See the discussion in Macquarrie 1996: 33.
. Post 2011: 702.
. Quoted in ibid.
. These are comparative claims. Jesus is not arguing that sparrows and sheep are valueless.
. Secular ethicist Peter Singer is highly critical of Christianity for its ‘speciesism’. ‘Speciesism’ is the privileging of one species over another in respect to moral status. For a critique of Singer from a Christian perspective see Preece 2002.
. Moltmann 1990: 85.
. Quoted in Green 2003: 129.
. Ibid.
. Hunter 2010: 241, a most stimulating work.
. The idea that the church is an extension of the incarnation has contemporary advocates. Brown and Loades (1996: 7, 75) maintain that our bodies are taken into Christ’s when we partake of the sacrament. Thus his incarnation is extended. They write (7), ‘Eating Christ’s body means becoming part of him. If we likewise allow the images of the Fourth Gospel mutually to enrich one another, then to drink his blood must mean becoming part of the vine that is Christ, and by implication eating his flesh must mean becoming part of the flesh in which the Word tabernacles’ (my emphases). This sacramental mysticism with its accent on ‘must’ takes us well beyond anything that the exegesis of the Fourth Gospel allows.
. Köstenberger 1998: 195.
. Billings 2012: 60.
. Ibid.
. Ibid.
. The Marcan account is instructive here. When people needed to be taught the kingdom, out of compassion Jesus taught them, as in Mark 6:32–34; but when contextually the presenting need was sustenance, out of compassion he fed them, as in Mark 8:1–8. However, his exercise of compassion was expressed within the fundamental priority of preaching the kingdom, which is thematized right from the start of the Gospel of Mark (1:38): ‘Jesus replied, “Let us go somewhere else – to the nearby villages – so that I can preach there also. That is why I have come”’ (my emphasis).
. As Hiebert (1985: 91–110) does in his ch. 4, entitled ‘The Incarnational Missionary’.
. For a broader discussion of the problematic of the deity of Christ as the flashpoint see Jennings 2011.
. Al-Fātiḥah (The Opening), in Ali 2002: 3 (Ali’s tr.).
. Quoted from The Ninety-Nine Beautiful Names of God, in Markham 1996: 292, my emphasis. A hadith (lit. ‘story’) is a saying about Muhammad and his behaviour, and part of the Sunna literature.
. In the appendix the questions of divine suffering, incarnation and evil are further addressed.
. Hence the translation controversy over whether to use the title ‘Son of God’ in any translation of the New Testament destined for a Muslim readership. For a discussion of the issues at a popular level see Hansen 2011.
. Nisa’ (Women) 4:171, quoted in Mattson 2008: 39. For a sensitive discussion of this key difference between Islam and Christianity see Migliore 2008: 126–127.
. Not all agree that Islam has a Christology. Renard (1998: 108) argues, ‘Strictly speaking, there is and can be no Islamic “Christology,” since Jesus is not the “Christ” in Muslim thought.’ But for a contrary view see Cotterell 1982: 282–298. Contra Renard, Muslim scholar Kateregga (Kateregga and Shenk 1981: 131) has no difficulty in regarding Jesus/Isa as the Messiah.
. According to Ali (2002: 1257), in the last chapter of the Qur’ān (Al-Iḥlāṣ [The Unity]) four kinds of shirk are excluded: (1) believing in a plurality of gods (e.g. the Trinity [sic]), (2) belief that another who is not Allah can possess the attributes of deity, (3) belief that God is either a father or a son, and (4) a belief that others can do what only Allah can do.
. Akhtar 2011: 37. Akhtar is an Oxford-trained analytical philosopher whose critique of the Trinity and incarnation is very disappointing. He argues (163–164) that both notions are incoherent and unintelligible but shows little understanding of the Christian claim, and the authorities he draws on to state the doctrines are nonChristian Western critics of Christianity (Michael Martin and Michael Durrant). He faults Aquinas, to whom he barely refers, but does not expound, appealing to mystery, which is the very category Akhtar himself applies (1990: 181) to the knowledge of Allah’s attributes.
. Bauckham 2002. Bauckham very helpfully addresses the question whether Chalcedon distorted the biblical witness by the use of non-biblical Greek philosophical speak, and argues convincingly that it did not.
. Warfield 1958: 79.
. Rightly or wrongly Nestorius, Bishop of Constantinople, was accused of teaching that God has two sons at work in the one body: a divine one and a human one and thus Mary bore a human son as the Christotokos (Christ bearer), but not God the Son. Consequently she was not theotokos (God bearer). For a competent discussion of Nestorianism see González 1987: I, 353–364.
. Basileides fancifully argued that the Christ spirit miraculously exchanged places with Simon of Cyrene on the way to the cross, and it was Simon looking like Jesus who was crucified while the Christ spirit now appearing as Simon stood by laughing at human folly. For him a spirit could not be human. See Stevenson 1970: 81–82.
. Brightman (1925: 56) actually said, ‘Christian Science and Roman Catholicism … both cannot be true at the same time unless the universe is a madhouse.’
. I am basing the substance of this paragraph on Cole 2009a.
. A. Plantinga 1980: 10–11, 26–29. A good example of such a defence is found in Dulles 2006: 324–335.
. Although he does not use the category of moderate defence, C. S. Evans (2006: 7) illustrates the notion: ‘Despite the assurances of theologians and philosophers, when we humans look honestly at the suffering present in the natural order it is not always easy to believe that the God of heaven and earth is a God who is both all-powerful and all-loving. When theodicies fail to satisfy, most Christians are steadied by faith: a trust and confidence that God is good and had good reasons for creating and governing the world as he has, even if we do not always know those reasons. It is far more credible to believe that God does care about human suffering when he has himself demonstrated his love by sharing in our suffering [through the incarnation and the cross].’
. Quoted in McWilliams 1985: 44. To a Muslim intellectual such as Shabbir Akhtar (2011: 37) such a notion is unthinkable given the following statement: ‘The Quran rejects the Judeo-Christian notion of sympathetic divine kingship: a God concerned for his people or for his faithful believer like a loving father for his children.’ His Qur’ānic evidence comes from Sura 5:18, which reads in part, ‘And the Jews and the Christians say: We are the sons of Allah and His beloved ones. Say: Why does He then chastise you for your sins? Nay, you are mortals from among those whom He has created.’ His use of this evidence is obscure.
. I have developed these ideas at length in Cole 2011.
. Vanhoozer 2010: 466. In this work Vanhoozer writes with his usual theological adroitness but his discussion in my view would have been strengthened even further if he had drawn a distinction between biblical anthropmorphisms and biblical anthropopathisms (e.g. see his 483, n. 36).
. Luther quoted in Piper 1999: 41.
. Some in the early church period wrote at times as though the incarnation were sufficient in itself to save. For example, Athanasius in the fourth century in his Letter to Epictetus 7, maintained, ‘Because the Word of God, the eternal Son of the Father, clothed himself with flesh and became man, we are delivered’ (quoted in Hendry 1959: 48, n. 48). Athanasius seems to have worked within a Platonic metaphysic in which by assuming the universal of manhood the Son informed all human particulars.
. Scruton 2012: 172.
. Balthasar 1986: 57.
. Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5, Lines 26–28. These lines are among those spoken by Macbeth upon hearing of his wife’s death and realizing how badly wrong the murder of the king and the seizing of his throne had turned out.
. Duriez 1990: 41. Duriez points out that Lewis used the phrase in his inaugural lecture (De descriptione temporum) at the University of Cambridge in 1955.
. Sayers 1979: 24–25.
. Ibid. 28–29, original emphasis.
. N. T. Wright 2003: 31.
. The ESV is to be preferred here: ‘Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing.’ The aspect is important: ‘have loved’ is in the perfect. As G. H. Guthrie (1990: 188) rightly comments, ‘As the perfect tense suggests, they have loved his appearing in the past and will continue to do so to the moment of receiving the reward.’ Interestingly this Pauline statement also shows that agapē love cannot be reduced in every instance simply to seeking the good of the other. Also see 2 Tim. 4:10 and Demas’s agapē love for the present age. The use of the word in context is the key to its meaning.
. Moltmann 1996: 307, original emphases.
. Ibid. 315.
. Augustine, quoted in Aquinas 1939: 53, n. 6, Ibi vacabimus, et videbimus: videbimus, et amabimus: amabimus, et laudabimus (There we shall rest, and we shall see; we shall see, and we shall love; we shall love, and we shall praise). This is the climax of Augustine’s City of God.
. Ramm et al. 1974: 28–29.
. Hunter 2010: 240.
. J. Murray 1977: 132.
Chapter 7: Conclusion
. Quoted in Trueblood 1969: 125.
. J. Murray 1977: 133.
. Irenaeus 2007: V, preface.
. Bavinck 1977: 86, original emphasis.
. France 1970: 99–101, original emphasis.
Appendix
. A version of this material appears in Cole 2010. Used with permission.
. I see similarities between my view and that of Kevin J. Vanhoozer (2009: 180–181), who writes of ‘canon sense’. Vanhoozer describes ‘canon sense’ as having been trained ‘to see things not simply from the perspective of eternity (sub specie aeternitatis) but from the perspective of the theodrama (sub specie theodramatis)’.
. Heschel 1969: I, xi.
. Rosner 2001.
. Literary unit is important. I once had a bizarre argument with a church deacon who contended that if a real historical incident did not lie behind the story of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10:25–37 he would give up Christianity. ‘Why?’ was my question. His answer was that the real Son of God could not tell a truth through a lie. I tried to point out, but to no avail, that the story was a parable.
. Early Christianity appears to have recognized the importance of the forgiveness of sins as a gospel benefit. It is a line item in both the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed.
. Rosner (2001) writes, ‘What is biblical theology? To sum up: biblical theology may be defined as theological interpretation of Scripture in and for the church’ (original emphasis).
. Ramm et al. 1974: 28–29.