Friday, October 7
Luke 9.28-36: Several features of Luke’s reference to the Passion (“And behold, two men talked with him, who were Moses and Elijah, who appeared in glory and spoke of his exodus which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem”) are important to his theological view of the Transfiguration:
First, Luke uses the technical theological expression exodus to speak of Jesus’ coming death. In his choice of this special noun Luke conveys the soteriological significance of the Savior’s death: It was an act of redemption from slavery. Jesus’ sufferings and death delivered men from bondage. This is the meaning of the word, exodus.
Second, in his reference to Jesus’ exodus, Luke explicitly places it “at Jerusalem.” This too corresponds to a theme in Luke’s Gospel, where the holy city is the culminating place of the narrative. Jerusalem is the city to which Jesus has steadfastly set His face to go.
This motif was introduced early in Luke, when Anna the prophetess “spoke of him to all those who looked for redemption in Jerusalem” (Luke 2:38 emphasis added).
Third, by referring to the Savior’s Passion within the Transfiguration story, Luke prepares for a later scene: the account of Jesus’ Agony. Only Luke will speak of that Agony taking place——ike the Transfiguration—on a mountain (Luke 22:39-41). As we shall consider when we come to the Agony, both are scenes of prayer on a mountain, a motif strengthening the link between the Transfiguration and the Passion.
Fourth, in his picture of Moses and Elijah—the Law and the Prophets—discussing Jesus’ exodus at Jerusalem, Luke touches a major theme of his theology—the fulfillment (pleroun) of Holy Scripture in Jesus’ sufferings and death in Jerusalem.
In this respect, we will later consider the scene with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, which will bring together the Passion and the fulfillment of Holy Scripture (Luke 24:25-27).
Here in the Transfiguration, then, Luke portrays Moses and Elijah talking with Jesus about the meaning of Holy Scripture. Jesus discusses with these major Old Testament characters his coming fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets, the very subject on which he will discourse to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. These two disciples on the road to Emmaus symbolically correspond to Moses and Elijah here on the mountain.
Luke returns to this theme in the risen Jesus’ final apparition in the upper room, where he affirms, “These are the words which I spoke to you while I was still with you, that all things must be fulfilled (plerothenai) which were written in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms concerning me (Luke 24:44).
Luke’s version of the great commission begins with this affirmation: “Thus it is written, and thus it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead the third day, and that repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his name to all nations, beginning at Jerusalem (24:46 emphasis added).
In the very context of the great commission, says Luke, “he opened their understanding, that they might comprehend the Scriptures” (24:45).
In Luke’s account of the Transfiguration, then, the two representatives of the Law and the Prophets are described as discussing with Jesus his fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets. This scene on the mountain brings to perfection Jesus’ early study of the Law and the Prophets in the synagogue at Nazareth.
Saturday, October 8
Ezra 5.1-17: As we have just seen, there was a delay in the completion of the temple. It is worth observing that Holy Scripture has two interpretations of that delay:
First, the more obvious approach takes account of the historical circumstances, as they were observed at the time. This was the interpretation of Haggai, who began preaching in Jerusalem in August of 520 (Haggai 1:1), and Zechariah, whose ministry spanned the years 520-518. These prophets blamed the delay on a lack of resolve on the part of the returning exiles, who had lost their vision and become discouraged. Instead of building God’s house, they had spent nearly two decades building their own. They had failed to seek first the kingdom of heaven and its righteousness (Haggai 1:2-10).
As the result of this prophetic intervention, which was implicitly critical of both Zerubbabel and Jeshua, the work on the construction of the temple resumed, somewhat to the suspicion and chagrin of the officers of the Persian Empire’s fifth satrapy, the region that included Jerusalem. After all, eighteen years had elapsed since Cyrus had authorized the construction, and there had been two changes of emperors since then. Naturally, no one around seemed to have a copy of that original authorization.
Meanwhile there had been quite a bit of political unrest in the empire, including a rebellion or two and the suicide of an emperor, the sort of unrest that might make anything new look suspicious (verses 2-4). In short, a new building permit was needed, or at least a clarification from the capital. The correspondence involved in obtaining this permit or clarification occupies verses 7-17 of this chapter, and the reply of Emperor Darius will be in the following chapter.
Second, the author of the present book adopts a larger and more theological perspective, less interested in the immediate moral concerns of Haggai and Zechariah. He has not a word of blame for the failure of the returning exiles with respect to the delay. He regards the postponement of the temple’s rebuilding, rather, from a more providential perspective. After all, the rebuilding of the temple could not be simply the execution of the will of Cyrus, any more than the building of the first temple could be simply a project executed by David. Neither king was really authorized to build a house for the Lord. The Lord would authorize the building of His own house when He saw fit. Indeed, both kings died before the construction even began.
In the case of David, the Lord’s will in the matter of the temple was revealed through the word of His prophet, Nathan. In the case of Cyrus, the Lord’s will about the rebuilding of the temple was revealed through two prophets, Haggai and Zechariah. The correspondence between these two narratives is consistent with our author’s concern to frame his historical survey from a theological perspective.
Sunday, October 9
Job 40: This chapter, unlike the two preceding, permits Job to put in a word of his own. He uses the occasion simply to confess his vileness and to state his resolve to remain silent before the Lord (verses 3–5), sentiments that will be expanded in the book’s final chapter.
Job has no plans to debate God. He will say nothing further. His earlier aspirations have really been answered, after all, because God has now spoken, and this is essentially what Job had sought. God continues, then.
As the two preceding chapters dealt with the mysteries of God’s activity in the realm of nature, the first part of this chapter turns to God’s presence in the order of conscience (verses 8–14). If Job understood next to nothing about the first, he knows even less about the second.
This revelation, too, comes min sa‘arah, “from the whirlwind” (verse 6; 38:1). Once again, as well, Job is commanded to gird up his loins like a man (verse 7; 38:3). Job is queried about who, on the evidence, is more righteous, himself or God (verse 8)? Does Job really desire a forensic setting to determine this question? Is Job capable of dealing with the myriad moral dilemmas involved in every man’s life, as God must do (verses 9–14)? In short, Job is trapped in his own subjectivity, unable to see the world from God’s perspective. There is no place where he may stand to indict the Lord.
Then, dramatically, the divine discourse goes from the realm of ethics and conscience to a consideration of two symbols of apparent chaos, both of them fearsome and incomprehensible: Behemoth and Leviathan.
Although “behemoth” is simply the plural of the Hebrew word for “beast” or “animal,” its description here seems largely to be drawn from the hippopotamus (hippos = “horse” and potamos = “river”—so “river horse”), huge, strong, invincible, even unchallenged, rightly afraid of nothing (verses 15–24). Other commentators have variously argued that the behemoth is really the crocodile, or a wild ox-buffalo, or some other kind of wild bull.
This is one of those questions that it is important not to decide. The reason for this has to do with the symbolic value of the description. The behemoth, though portrayed with features recognized in animals already well known, represents simply “the beast.” This is the general sense that the Hebrew plural form “behemoth” has in several places in Holy Scripture (cf. Psalms 8:7; 49[48]:10; 73[72]:22; Joel 1:20; 2:22; Habakkuk 2:17).
That is to say, this behemoth is a great deal more than any particular beast. It represents, rather, the wildness of untamed animal existence. It conveys in symbolism the truth that the world is not made according to man’s own measure. This Beast is irrational in the sense that it does not make rational choices. Yet, its behavior is not irrational, not chaotic, because it obeys the integral instincts placed in it by its Creator. It is not tame, but it is not really chaotic. In its own way, it declares the glory of God.
Monday, October 10
Ezra 7.1-28: Now we come to the ministry of the man for whom this book is named. There are two parts to this chapter. The first (verses 1-10) is a summary of Ezra’s journey, and the second (verses 11-26) the original letter of authorization for his mission.
Our treatment of this section will follow the traditional view that Ezra arrived at Jerusalem in 458, thirteen years before Nehemiah. Those historians who date his arrival thirty or even sixty years later are obliged to presume that there are mistakes in the transmission of the text, along with other hypotheses that seem improbable to me. I believe that the traditional date, 458, is the safest and most likely date for the events narrated in the present chapter. Accordingly, we are going to presume that the Artaxerxes in these texts is Artaxerxes I (465-425), not Artaxerxes II (404-358). Thus, the “seventh years of Artaxerxes” was 458. Thus, there is a lapse of 57 years between chapter 6 and chapter 7.
Ezra, raised in a priestly family in Babylon (verses 1-5), had evidently never before been to Jerusalem. We shall see him to be a resolute sort of person, the confident and forceful leader who sees things in black and white, a man little given to carefully nuanced views, a person who inspires trust because he conveys a sense of certainty. It may be reasonably argued that Ezra would not have made a good discussion leader or talk-show host.
He surely was, however, a persuasive and decisive speaker. He is called a scribe (sopher, perhaps more accurately translated as “bookman”) in the law of Moses (verse 6).Indeed, there is a fairly strong tradition, which includes the scholarly Saint Jerome, that Ezra was an important editor of the Pentateuch (and author of the closing chapter of Deuteronomy, which records the death of Moses) while he was still living in Babylon.
Ezra came to Jerusalem with a retinue of clergy for the temple worship (verse 7), authorized by a letter from the emperor (verses 11-28), as well as arrangements for finances and appointments for the temple. Ezra was not the high priest, but he was of a priestly family. He was, in fact, a descendent of Seriah (verse 1), the last high priest to die at Jerusalem prior to the Captivity. His own son, Jehozadak, was deported to Babylon 120 years before Ezra’s journey to Jerusalem (1 Chronicles 6:14).
It is clear from this letter of Artaxerxes that the Persian government expected Judea to be ruled according to the Law of Moses (verses 25-26). An important and explicit item in that authorization exempted the temple and its clergy from royal taxation (verse 24). This should not surprise us, because we know that Darius made a similar exemption for the priests of Apollo at the temple in Magnesia.
Throughout the present chapter Ezra acts alone. In the next chapter he will be joined by other leaders, who will accompany him.
Tuesday, October 11
Job 42: The trial of Job is over. This last chapter of this book contains (1) a statement of repentance by Job (verses 1–6), (2) the Lord’s reprimand of Eliphaz and his companions (verses 7–8), and (3) a final narrative section, at the end of which Job begins the second half of his life (verses 9–17). The book begins and ends, then, in narrative form.
First, one observes in Job’s repentance that he arrives at a new state of humility, not from a consideration of his own sins, but by an experience of God’s overwhelming power and glory. (Compare Peter in Luke 5:1–8.) When God finally reveals Himself to Job, the revelation is different from anything Job either sought or expected, but clearly he is not disappointed.
All through this book, Job has been proclaiming his personal integrity, but now this consideration is not even in the picture; he has forgotten all about any alleged personal integrity. It is no longer pertinent to his relationship to God (verse 6). Job is justified by faith, not by any claims to personal integrity. All that is in the past, and Job leaves it behind.
Second, the Lord then turns and deals with the three comforters who have failed so miserably in their task. Presuming to speak for the Almighty, they have fallen woefully short of the glory of God.
Consequently, Job is appointed to be the intercessor on their behalf. Ironically, the offering God prescribes to be made on behalf of the three comforters (verse 8) is identical to that which Job had offered for his children out of fear that they might have cursed God (1:5). The Book of Job both begins and ends, then, with Job and worship and intercession. In just two verses (7–8) the Lord four times speaks of “My servant Job,” exactly as He had spoken of Job to Satan at the beginning of the book. But Job, for his part, must bear no grudge against his friends, and he is blessed by the Lord in the very act of his praying for them (verse 10).
Ezekiel, remembering Job’s prayer more than his patience, listed him with Noah and Daniel, all three of whom he took to be men endowed with singular powers of intercession before the Most High (Ezekiel 14:14–20).
The divine reprimand of Job’s counselors also implies that their many accusations against Job were groundless. Indeed, Job had earlier warned them of God’s impending anger with them in this matter (13:7–11), and now that warning is proved accurate (verse 7). Also, ironically, whereas Job’s friends fail utterly in their efforts to comfort him throughout almost the entire book, they succeed at the end (verse 11).
Third, in the closing narrative we learn that Job lives 140 years, exactly twice the normal span of a man’s life (cf. Psalm 90[89]:10). Each of his first seven sons and three daughters is replaced at the end of the story, and all of his original livestock is exactly doubled (Job 1:3; 42:12). St. John Chrysostom catches the sense of this final section of Job:
His sufferings were the occasion of great benefit. His substance was doubled, his reward increased, his righteousness enlarged, his crown made more lustrous, his reward more glorious. He lost his children, but he received, not those restored, but others in their place, and even those he still held in assurance unto the Resurrection (Homilies on 2 Timothy 7).
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Wednesday, October 12
Colossians 1.1-29: Paul prays that the Colossians will be filled with spiritual “understanding” (epignosis — verses 9-10; 2:2; 3:13), which will enable then to escape—and perhaps also to refute—the early Gnostic speculations to which the churches of Asia Minor had been exposed. Such “understanding” included a personal knowledge of God (verse 10) and the perception of His design to save the human race in Christ (2:2). This understanding is identical with “wisdom” (Sophia — verses 9,28; 2:2,23;3:16;4:5).
Paul’s “understanding” does not refer to a speculative knowledge but involves the transformation of the moral life by the sustained effort to please God (verse 10). The believer grows in spiritual understanding by how he lives.
Christians are called to be a holy people and chosen (verses 1,12), to share the “inheritance” (kleros) of the saints. In their vocation they pass from “the power of darkness” to the realm of light (verses 12-13). We observe that the darkness from which they are rescued is not the mere absence of light. It is a darkness that exercises “authority” (exsousia) over their lives. Those not in Christ, in other words, live in the bondage to darkness. To escape it is true deliverance.
The realm of light is not an abstraction. It is inseparable from the “kingdom” (basileia) of Christ (verse 13; cf. 1 Corinthians 15:24; Ephesians 5:5).
Ezra 9: In this chapter Ezra has been living in Jerusalem for four months, during which time he had been busy in a variety of pressing matters. He had conveyed a great deal of wealth to Jerusalem and had done so, in fact, without armed guard. Along the way he had recruited more Levites to augment the Levitical staff at the temple, which at this time was fifty-seven years old. The journey itself had lasted from April 8 to August 4 of the year 458 (7:9).
Therefore, the events of this chapter, four months later, occurred in late December of that year; it was a dreary rainy season (10:9), the sort of atmosphere that might depress the human spirit anyway.
This was not a good time for bad news, but bad news is just what Ezra received. He learned of a serious spiritual problem in Jerusalem, the widespread intermarriage of priests with non-Jews, a thing unthinkable among the Jews back in Babylon.
Ezra did not take the news calmly (verse 3). He prepared himself to deal with the problem, but he would not address the people about it until he had taken it up with the Lord. He made his prayer with uplifted hands at the time of the vesperal sacrifice (verse 5), at which it was usual to pray with uplifted hands (cf. Psalms 141 [140]:2).
We should especially note in his prayer that he did not separate himself from this sin of the people, even though he himself had not committed it; the sin pertained to “us” (verses 6,7,10,13,15). Ezra was an effective intercessor, in part because of this solidarity he maintained with those for whom he prayed.
Thursday, October 13
Colossians 2.1-23: Christ’s headship over Creation is radical and total. The human race has no other mediation with God. This is Paul’s answer to those who teach of the veneration of the angels as cosmic intermediaries.
This is the argument that Paul makes, after he brings the strictly doctrinal opening of this epistle to an end with verse 3. In this verse he speaks of Christ, “in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge” (cf. also 1:27; 1 Corinthians1:24,30), an expression perhaps derived from Isaiah 45:3 (“I will give you the treasures of darkness and the hoards in secret places, that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, who call you by your name”) and Proverbs 2:3-5 (“if you call out for insight and raise your voice for understanding, if you seek it like silver and search for it as for hidden treasures, then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God”).
When the Church’s earliest creedal formulas interpreted the saving work of Jesus Christ “according to the Scriptures” (1 Corinthians 15:3-4), this expression was understood to embrace all of the Old Testament, including the Ketubim, or “Writings,” that third part of the Hebrew Scriptures in which we find the Wisdom books. The doctrinal challenge facing the Church at Colossae furnished the providential occasion for the Apostle Paul to explore the relationship of Christ to the Bible’s Wisdom literature.
Ezra 10: Word got out, evidently, that Ezra’s spirit was disturbed, because he found quite a crowd of distressed people waiting for him when his prayer was over (verse 1). What ensues in this chapter is best ascribed to what must have been the singular moral stature and authority of Ezra. It was surely not the “mob psychosis” that one modern commentator ascribes to the scene. The dynamics had to do, rather, with the towering moral presence of Ezra himself, standing forth among the people, fortified by his fasting and his prayer on their behalf.
He was thus able to persuade them to take steps deeply repugnant to very deep instincts and warmly cherished preferences. From a concern for the purity of Israel’s faith, he was able to convince them to relinquish their wives and children. He did not do this, moreover, in an impassioned or imperious tone. On the contrary, his words to the people were more restrained than the words he used when speaking to God.
All the returned exiles were gathered at Jerusalem for a “command appearance” (verses 7-9), assembling in the rain, cold, wet, and doubtless a bit discouraged. Ezra then read them the riot act. Under this barrage of rain and prophetic invective, the men became cooperative. Understandably, nonetheless, their moral situation, their “case of conscience,” was more than slightly complicated, involving many details that could not be settled immediately (verse 13). Consequently, a commission was established to work out the particulars associated with the dissolution of all those marriages.
It is reasonable to assume that the work of the commission had to do with the disposition of property claims and rights of inheritance. In those days, after all, couples did not simply fall in love and get married. Pre-nuptial agreements, in the form of inter-family contracts, were the rule, not the exception. Virtually all of those marriages, therefore, involved complex financial arrangements, in the form of dowries and transferred inheritances. If the people were to conform to the strict rules laid down by Ezra, all such matters had to be adjusted. In the lengthy list of the offenders (verses 18-44), we observe many family names that we saw in the census record in the second chapter.
Friday, October 14
Luke 12:13-2: This brief parable of the rich man’s barns, which introduces the straightforward didactic section on trust in God (verses 22-34), is proper to the Gospel of Luke. It is consistent with Luke’s constant attention to the needs of the poor and his caution about the dangers of wealth. Luke is eloquent and dependable on both of these themes.
The parable is given in response to a request that Jesus intrude His influence in an inheritance dispute between two brothers (verse 13), and prior to presenting His parable the Lord disclaims authority to settle such a dispute: “Then one from the crowd said to Him, ‘Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.’ But He said to him, “Man, who made Me a judge or an arbitrator over you?”
Such is the context of the parable, and it properly introduces the first of three points that may be made with respect to it.
This point, aside from its function of introducing the parable, already conveys an important lesson respecting the Gospel and the world. Jesus refuses to take sides or arbitrate in a domestic and financial dispute in which, presumably, an arguable case could be made for either side. This sort of thing is simply not what He does. He refuses to be made an authority in matters of purely secular dispute.
If this restraint was exercised by the Son of God and the font of justice, how much more should it apply to the Church and her ministries. This story provides no encouragement to those who imagine that the Christian Church should intrude her influence in social, economic, civil, and political controversies on which plausible arguments can be made, whether in theory or in fact, for either side of a case. This is not the vocation of the Church, for the same reason that it was not the vocation of Jesus.
In the societal settings in which the life in Christ is lived, there are certainly circumstances where it is incumbent on the Church and her ministries to speak clearly and fearlessly and decisively. The Church’s intervention in social and political controversies, however, should be limited to those discernible cases. With respect to the other myriad concerns of society and the political order, prudential concerns about which it is legitimate for godly men to disagree, the proper response of the Church should be, as it was for Christ, “Man, who made me a judge or arbitrator over you?”
This message will necessarily be disappointing to those who imagine the Church is some sort of social arbiter, with immediate, practical solutions to all the world’s problems.
Second, Jesus goes to the root of the problem. He attacks the root of the dilemma presented by His questioner. That root is greed, or covetousness: “And He said to them, “Take heed and beware of covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of the things he possesses” (verse 15). Once again, the Lord does not go into particulars. His is, rather, a word of “caution” (“keep on guard,” phylassesthe) and the stating of a principle (“a man’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions”). The purpose of the parable is to reinforce that caution and to illustrate that principle.
How to apply that principle and how to implement that caution will vary a great deal according to the circumstances in which a person finds himself. What is essential is to be on guard and to bear in mind that a man’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.
Third, the message of the parable itself is self-evident, laying a sensitive finger on the shortness of life and the unreliable nature of all things temporal and material.
He dialogued with himself, says Luke: dielogizeto en heavto. He addressed his soul. “Soul,” he said, “you have many goods laid up for many years; take your ease; eat, drink, and be merry.” This was the soul of which Jesus inquired, “what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul?” (Mark 8:36) as in the case of the rich man and Lazarus, this is the story of how to lose your soul. It is precise outline for how to accomplish the task.
And what is that prescription? “Relax!” Don’t be vigilant. Don’t be cautious. Do not keep on guard. This is the reliable and true path to the fires of hell. Many have tried it, and it always works.
This lesson the “fool” of a rich man learned after it was too late. Jesus explains, “Fool! This night your soul will be required of you; then whose will those things be which you have provided?” This is a business question, isn’t it, much like the question, “what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul?” Put it all down on a ledger, says Jesus, and count it up. What is the cost, the gain, the loss, the profit? Use your business head, and you will come up with the right answer every time: “Who gets all this stuff that you have accumulated, while you have nothing profitable to show God for all the years He gave you on this earth.”
There is an irony, then, in the Lord’s referring to this man as a “fool,” because in the Wisdom literature of the Old Testament the fool is someone who fails to take care of his financial resources. He is saying, in fact, that this was not really a man of business, because he did not understand the true worth of things. He imagined that his soul was worth less than his possessions. He suffered the confusion that leads to the loss of one’s soul.
Consequently, at the end of his selfish life this man had nothing to show for his efforts. He was “not rich with respect to God.” He had failed in elementary vigilance. He had not heard the warning of Christ: “Take heed and beware of covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of the things he possesses.”