Friday, October 20
Luke 16.19-31: I want to consider three topics in this story: Loss of perspective, hardness of heart, and the judgment of God.
First, let us consider the loss of perspective. Today’s rich man lost his perspective. He was distracted from his focus. He “was clothed in purple and fine linen and fared sumptuously every day.” He forgot what was important, and what was not important. He was the sort of man of whom our Lord says that “the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and he becomes unfruitful.”
He has been deceived, but the deception was entirely of his own making. Perhaps he had let himself watch too many TV commercials. He had let himself become persuaded that the goods and wealth of this world are of lasting value. He resembled the frantic co-ed, for whom the worst catastrophe would be a failure to get a date for the prom.
This is the proper viewpoint, which gives us the proper perspective.
I sometimes wonder if half our worries and problems life do not result from a loss of perspective—so that big things are not noticed, and small things take on an illusory importance.
Indeed, there are vast industries devoted to encouraging a loss of perspective: the fashion industry, for example, and women’s cosmetics. The young, alas, who are naturally more insecure and most in need of being taught the skill of perspective, are the ones who suffer most from the unreasonable expectations encouraged by these industries.
Second, let us think of unbelief and hardness of heart. Loss of perspective leads by degrees to unbelief and hardness of hear. In this parable Jesus names one of the characters. I believe this is the only time Jesus ever does this. He gives the poor man the name of his friend Lazarus, whom He did, in fact, raise from thee dead. This is significant.
In the parable, the rich man asks Abraham, “I beg you therefore, father, that you would send him to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, that he may testify to them, lest they also come to this place of torment.” To this, Abraham answers, “‘If they do not hear Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rise from the dead.”
This is exactly what happened when Lazarus was, in fact, raised from the dead. St. John tells us: “Now a great many of the Jews knew that [Jesus] was there; and they came, not for Jesus’ sake only, but that they might also see Lazarus, whom He had raised from the dead. But the chief priests plotted to put Lazarus to death also, because on account of him many of the Jews went away and believed in Jesus.”
The Jewish leaders were religious, God-fearing men, but they had lost the correct perspective, and this loss led them to unbelief and hardness of heart. Indeed, it led them to perfect foolishness. They actually plotted to kill someone who had already been raised from the dead! This is insane.
This insanity stands forever as a warning. It informs us just how far gone it is possible to go! Whether there is hair on top of the head or not, this story warns us about the content of the head. This story warns us about what sorts of thoughts we must not permit to find refuge in our heads. One avoids insanity by not thinking insane thoughts.
Third, and finally, let us consider the judgment of God, which all of us will face. Let us think of the “great gulf” of which Abraham speaks. Most of us do not know when we will appear before the Throne and render an account of our deeds. Nonetheless, that date is already marked on God’s calendar.
It was in order to sharpen our perspective on this point that Jesus posed the question, “what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul?” This is a simple “business question.” Our Lord poses it in terms of profit, gain, and loss. He tells us to look to the bottom line o the ledger, and ask ourselves, “what’s it going to be? Profit or loss?”
As always, our Lord instructs us to be sensible, to bear in mind the important things, to disregard what is unimportant, to use our heads, and not to worry about hair and other silly things.
Saturday, October 21
1 Chronicles 27: Neither list in this chapter has a parallel in 2 Samuel.
The first list (1-15) is similar to the earlier list of David’s heroes (11:11-47, but it is not derivative from it. Unlike the lists of the preceding chapter, it identifies, not the ministers of the sanctuary, but those individuals and households who regularly (“by courses”) provided King David with the material means of constructing the Temple. These are called “the chief fathers and captains” (verse 1).
Corresponding to the twelve months of the year and the traditional number of twelve tribes, these are divided into twelve taxation districts (verses 25-31), an arrangement that would continue under Solomon (1 Kings 4).
The constant repetition of their numbers as “twenty-four thousand” corresponds to the division of the priests into twenty-four courses of ministerial rotation, which we consider earlier. This number is also surely related to the twenty-four elders that we find around God’s throne in Revelation 4.
Thus, in the constantly repeated “twenty-four thousand” we should detect the influence of a sacral and hierarchical interest in the list. Two things should be borne in mind regarding the historicity of these figures. First, as we have seen before, the word ’eleph, translated as “thousand,” was a technical rather than a strictly mathematical reference. Second, it would require a truly unusual miracle to guarantee that each district would have exactly the same number of male adults at exactly the same time.
This chapter’s second list (16-22) names Israel’s tribal leaders during David’s reign, indicating the king’s apparent comfort with the continuance of the ancient tribal leadership. This latter feature was to be less the case during the reign of Solomon. In fact, a festering discord between Solomon’ style of rule and the traditional tribal authority were to contribute greatly to the schism that ensued on Solomon’s death.
The chapter contains a note on David’s refusal to permit the results of his census to be entered into the archives of the realm (verses 23-24), since that census offended God and was regarded as a blight on David’s reign. It does appear, therefore, that both the Chronicler and the author of 2 Samuel received the results of that census from other sources. This would in part explain how they are somewhat different.
The chapter’s final section (verses 25-34) indicates that the king’s property, a major source of the revenue by which the governing was done, grew during David’s reign. It is a simple fact, after all, that the needs of government tend to grow. If this development continued during the reigns of subsequent kings—as surely it did—a certain resentment was bound to be the result. It is instructive to observe that Ezekiel, writing over four centuries after David, preferred that the royal properties be strictly fixed (Ezekiel 46:16-18).
Sunday, October 22
Psalms 124 (Greek & Latin 123): The Bible is a book of salvation. Its dominant theme, above all things, is deliverance. Its varied components, written and edited in different cultural settings over many centuries and in places as diverse as Mesopotamia and Rome, are collected into one volume under a single unifying head: soteriology, the study of salvation.
The God of the Bible is the God of deliverance. He is the saving Lord, the God who rescues His servants from a great variety of perils, including an imminent destruction at the Red Sea, the repeated threat of annihilation by multiple foreign armies, a menacing giant in the Valley of Elah, the conspiracy of Absalom and the counsel of Ahithophel, the search parties of Jezebel, the dungeon of Malchiah, the plot of Haman, the intrigue of Sanballat, Aretas guarding the walls of the Damascenes, wild beasts at Ephesus, tribulation on the island that is called Patmos, and a host of other hazards.
Most of all, this God “has delivered us from the power of darkness and conveyed us into the kingdom of the Son of His love, in whom we have redemption through His blood” (Col. 1:13, 14). This is the God who says to us: “Do not be afraid, but speak, and do not keep silent; for I am with you, and no one will attack you to hurt you” (Acts 18:9, 10). He is the God who saves, for the servants of this saving God seem forever in danger, finding themselves in a fiery furnace and a den of lions, “in journeys often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils of my own countrymen, in perils of the Gentiles, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren; in weariness and toil, in sleeplessness often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness” (2 Cor. 11:26, 27).
Thus, a common experience narrated in Holy Scripture is what, in our current idiom, is known as “the close call,” the sense we have of having almost perished, of being snatched from destruction at the final moment, as it were. And Psalms tells us repeatedly to confess that experience of the “close call,” to make such confession an integral part of our prayer: “Let Israel now say.”
Thus we pray in Psalm 34: “Oh magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together. I sought the Lord, and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.” Or again, Psalm 119: “Let Israel now say, ‘His mercy endures forever.’” And Psalm 129: “‘Many a time have they afflicted me from my youth,’ let Israel now say.”
Deliverance from a “close call” is the resonating message of one of the loveliest of the psalms, Psalm 124: “‘Had the Lord not been among us,’ let Israel now say, ‘had the Lord not been among us, when men rose up against us, they would have swallowed us alive. When their fury raged against us, the water would have engulfed us. Our soul would have passed through a torrent, our soul would have passed through the overwhelming water.’ Blessed be the Lord who did not give us over as a prey unto their teeth. Our soul, like a sparrow, was delivered from the snare of the fowler. The snare was thrown, but we were delivered. Our help is in the name of the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”
The specific images of danger in this psalm are the engulfing flood and the bird-snare. The Bible’s best example of the first, of course, is the peril of Israel at the Red Sea in Exodus, an image destined to assume archetypal significance all through Holy Scripture (e.g., 1 Cor. 10:1, 2). Another is the deluge in Genesis 6—8, which, like the crossing of the Red Sea, became a type of our deliverance through baptism (cf. 1 Pet. 3:20, 21). The image of the engulfing waters is especially prominent in Isaiah (cf. 8:8; 30:28; 59:19, etc).
The second image of danger, the bird-snare, is also found in the most notable of the psalms of deliverance, Psalm 91: “He will deliver you from the snare of the fowler, and the deadly pestilence.” In Proverbs 6:5 it symbolizes moral danger.
And how powerful is the God who protects us? Well, says our psalm, He made heaven and earth. This expression appears earlier in the psalms of ascent (Psalm 121:2), and the context in both cases is God’s help. Because God’s power is absolute, and His resolve unconditional, our safety is beyond doubt.
Monday, October 23
1 Chronicles 29: It is both interesting and profitable to compare the instructions that David gives Solomon near the end of 1 Chronicles with the instructions that this same David gives to this same Solomon in 1 Kings 2:1-9. In the Kings account David commends certain irreproachable moral instructions to Solomon (1 Kings 21:14) and then goes on to recommend the killing of Joab and the punishing of Shimei (21:5-6,8-9). In the Chronicles account, on the other hand, David goes to great length instructing Solomon with respect to the Temple, its priesthood, and its worship. The differences between the two stories are . . . . well, striking.
Similarly, here in the Chronicler’s narrative of the submission of Solomon’s brothers to their new king here (verse 24) he leaves out the more colorful account found in 1 Kings 1:5-49. Such details, for the Chronicler, would constitute something of a distraction from his chosen theme.
David, in his final charge to the nation, summons the people to be generous for the construction of the Temple (verses 1-5). His words are modeled on the similar charge that Moses gave to the Israelites with respect to the tabernacle in the wilderness (Exodus 35:4-19).
In his choice of words descriptive of those ancient events, the Chronicler employs terms characteristic of the Persian period during which he is writing. Thus, one of the terms that he uses in reference to the Temple is birah, a Persian word meaning “palace” (verses 1,19). Nowhere else in the Bible is the Temple called by that name, though we do find the expression rather often, in its usual and secular sense, in this and other works from the Persian and Greek periods (2 Chronicles 17:12; 27:4; Nehemiah 1:1; 2:8; 7:2; Esther 1:2,5; 2:3,5,8; 3:15; 8:14; 9:6:,11,12; Daniel 8:2).
In like fashion, the wealth given for the construction of the Temple is measured by its equivalent in the golden coins of Persia, the ’adarkanim (“darics” in the RSV—verse 7). The use of such expressions rendered the Chronicler’s story more intelligible to his contemporaries.
The rich theology of the Chronicler is perhaps nowhere or more explicit than in David’s closing prayer (verses 10-19), a solemn liturgical blessing that epitomizes God’s true worship at all times. At the heart of this prayer is the mystery of the Temple. It is prayer, after all, that makes a temple a temple, and David’s blessing here contains the sentiments of humility of that other man who, having prayed in the Temple with humility, went down to his house more justified than the other (verse 14; Luke 18:9-14).
The Chronicler names three literary sources for his description of the reign of David (verse 29). The only one of these three sources still extant is the Books of Samuel and 1 Kings. The other material found in the Books of Chronicles, we presume, must be attributed to those sources that have not otherwise come down to us.
The major contribution of the Chronicler, as compared with the Books of Samuel, is all the extensive material relative to David’s preparation for the Temple and its worship. Samuel devotes 77 verses to David’s liturgical concerns, whereas here in 1 Chronicles there are 323 verses devoted to this theme.
This difference of Chronicles from the Books of Samuel and Kings is not only material, it is also formal. That is to say, it pertains not only to what was written, but also to why it was written. The Chronicler had in mind to portray David as a man of worship more than a political and military figure. In this respect David most resembles Moses.
This view of David is based on the Chronicler’s view of biblical history. The history of Israel, for this writer, is the history of worship. It is Israel’s worship, therefore, that defines the Chronicler’s historical perspective.
Tuesday, October 24
Luke 18.9-14: Jesus “spoke this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were just, and despised others.”
Observe here the word “just,” dikaioi in Greek. We recognize in this adjective a basic concern in the theology of the Apostle Paul. Beginning with the Galatian controversy in the early fifties and going on to its full elaboration in the Epistle to the Romans about five years later, the Apostle Paul was preoccupied with the question, “How do human beings become just, dikaios, in the sight of God?” This question came to the fore in the mind of Paul when certain Christians arrived in Galatia in the early fifties, claiming that Christians were obliged to observe the Mosaic Law, just as Jesus had observed the Mosaic Law.
This was the claim Paul felt himself obliged to refute. He contended that God’s eternal Word did not come to earth simply to reinforce the claims of the Torah. He came, rather, to elevate human beings into the divine life and to transform them by the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. That is to say, Paul insisted that one does not become a child of God by observing the Torah but by the transformation of heart and mind by the energy of the Holy Spirit.
In the Epistle to the Romans Paul wrote that there is
no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus. . . . For as many as are led by the Spirit of God, these are sons of God. For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are the children of God.
In today’s parable, just what was wrong with the prayer of the Pharisee? Luke indicates the problem when he declares that Jesus “spoke this parable to some who trusted in themselves.”
So important is this message in today’s parable that it appears again at the end of the story, where Jesus says of the Publican, “I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other.”
Once again, observe the modifier: the just man, the dikaios, is the justified man, the dedikaiomenos. The form is the perfect passive participle. We become just by being justified, and we are justified if we rely on God and not ourselves.
Wednesday, October 25
Philippians 2.12-18: Paul now returns to the theme of Christian obedience, the very theme that had prompted him to quote the hymn recorded in 5:5-11. He wants the Philippians (“Therefore”) to be obedient according to the model of Christ Himself (verse 12).
However, having just recalled that hymn about salvation, Paul’s mind is full of this latter theme as well. In just two verses (12-13), then, he goes from speaking about obedience to speaking about salvation.
In verses 12-18 we discern a ringing resemblance to the farewell discourse of Moses in Deuteronomy 31—32. In that passage, where Moses reprimanded the Chosen People for their disobedience, we note an emphasis on “rebellion” (erethismon in the Septuagint of Deuteronomy 31:27), an idea very close to Paul’s warnings against “partisanship” (eritheia; cf. 1:17; 2:3).
Moses feared for what those Israelites would do in his absence (for he was about to die), since they had been so consistently disobedient while he was present. Paul, by contrast, does not worry about the Philippians will do in his absence (verse 12). Moses, likewise, had called the Israelites “wicked children . . . a crooked and perverse generation” (Deuteronomy 32:5), whereas Paul calls the Philippians “blameless and harmless children of God . . . in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation” (verse 15).
2 Chronicles 2: As though the fact were an afterthought barely mentioned in just two Hebrew words, we are told that Solomon also planned “a house for his kingdom” (verse 1; 1:18 in the traditional Hebrew text). This latter construction, which served for governmental administration as well as Solomon’s residence, required elaborate planning and labor over a period of thirteen years (1 Kings 7:1-12). Once again, however, as in the case of David, the Chronicler is relatively uninterested in this political and worldly aspect of Solomon’s reign. In the eyes of this writer, the historical importance of Solomon had to do entirely with the Temple and what took place there.
Writing long after the worldly prestige and power of the Davidic monarchy had disappeared from the geopolitical scene, the Chronicler was not disposed to dwell on the worldly grandeur of Solomon’s reign. All of that was gone. What, then, asked the Chronicler, was Solomon’s real historical significance? What was the true, important legacy of his reign? It was the Temple, the institutional provision for the worship of God. In this effort lay the genuine greatness of Solomon. This was the authentic work of the wisdom with which the Lord endowed him (verse 12).
Thursday, October 26
Philippians 2.19-30: What sort of man was Timothy? Well, we know what Paul thought of him. In today’s reading he tells the Macedonians, “I have no one like-minded, who will sincerely care for your state” (Philippians 2:20), and goes on to speak of his “proven character” (2:22).
Indeed, Paul refers to Timothy as “our brother” (2 Corinthians 1:1; Colossians 1:1; 1 Thessalonians 3:2; Philemon 1), “as a son with his father” (Philippians 2:22), and “my beloved and faithful son in the Lord” (1 Corinthians 4:17). Paul addresses him, moreover, as “son Timothy” (1 Timothy 1:18), “Timothy, a true son in the faith” (1:2), and “Timothy, a beloved son” (2 Timothy 1:2).
Paul knew that Timothy had been raised in a devout, believing family
(2 Timothy 1:5), where he was trained in the Holy Scriptures (3:15).
Still young, Timothy had joined Paul’s company during the second missionary journey (Acts 16:1–3) and remained with him through the ensuing years, carefully following his “doctrine, manner of life, purpose, faith, longsuffering, love, perseverance, persecutions, afflictions, which happened to me at Antioch, at Iconium, at Lystra” (2 Timothy 3:10–11).
Along the way, Paul found that he could entrust Timothy with important responsibilities in the ministry. The young man had not been a missionary even a year before Paul sent him from Athens to Thessaloniki for a needed pastoral visit (1 Thessalonians 3:1–5). Later, from Ephesus, Paul sent Timothy to visit the Macedonians (Acts 19:22; Philippians 2:19–23) and the quarrelsome, spiteful congregation at Corinth (1 Corinthians 4:17; 16:10). It was to Timothy, finally, that Paul wrote the last letter of his life, asking him to “be diligent to come to me quickly” (2 Timothy 4:9).
Epaphroditus is the second of Paul’s companions mentioned today. A member of the parish in Philippi, he had been sent to bring assistance to Paul during the time of his imprisonment at Ephesus. Epaphroditus, however, falling sick, needed Paul to care for him. Indeed, Paul remarks, this loyal churchman had nearly died. More recently he has recovered his health, so Paul is able to share this good news with the Philippians, who had been worried by a report of the illness. It is he who will carry this epistle to Philippi, to the great joy and relief of the congregation in that city.
2 Chronicles 3: This chapter is the only place in Holy Scripture where the site of the Temple is identified as Mount Moriah (verse 1), the place where Abraham took Isaac to be sacrificed (Genesis 22:2). This is no incidental detail. By introducing this connection of the Temple to that distant event, not only does the Chronicler subtly indicate the new Temple’s continuity with the distant patriarchal period, he also provides his readers with a very rich theme of theology.
The ancient scene on Mount Moriah is the Bible’s first mention of a “substitutionary sacrifice.” Abraham and Isaac, father and son, climb the mountain of sacrifice (Genesis 22:6). In the enigmatic conversation between the two climbers (22:7-8), the attentive Bible-reader perceives a rich mystery concealed in Abraham’s reply that “God Himself will provide the victim for the sacrifice.” The Chronicler’s mention of Moriah in the present chapter shows his awareness that Abraham’s words are prophetic of the many Paschal lambs sacrificed in Temple (Exodus 12:1-28) in substitution for Israel’s sons (Exodus 34:20).
Isaac himself, we recall, said nothing in reply (22:9-10). Indeed, Isaac remained entirely silent after Abraham spoke. He was like a lamb led to the slaughter that opens not his mouth (Isaiah 53:7). In his sacrificial silence, Isaac bore in himself the mystery of the Temple and its worship.
Friday, October 27
Philippians 3.1-11: I have argued that Philippians was written relatively early in Paul’s ministry, at some time during his three years (52-55) in Ephesus. This dating would put it close to the composition of Galatians.
In the present section of Philippians, in fact, the reader is much reminded of the double principal theme of Galatians, salvation by faith and freedom from the works of the Mosaic Law. For example, in Paul’s comments about his communion with Christ, one can hardly fail to observe the resemblance between verses 8 to 10 and Galatians 2:20.
There is a difference between Philippians and Galatians in this respect, however, and the difference is this: Whereas Galatians was written for a congregation that had already begun to succumb to the teachings of the Judaizers (namely, that the Gentiles were obliged to be circumcised and to observe the Mosaic Law), in Philippians this teaching is regarded as a threat only, not an immediate and critical danger. The Judaizing errors that had already reached Galatia had not yet found their way to Philippi.
Hence, there is a difference in tone between these two epistles; nor do we find in Philippians the shock and harshness of reprimand characteristic of Galatians. One thinks of Paul’s “foolish Galatians” (Galatians 3:1) in contrast to the Philippians, whom he calls “my brethren dearly beloved and longed for, my joy and my crown” (Philippians 4:1).
In discussing the Judaizers in each of these epistles, Paul waxes autobiographical, but here too there is a difference between the two works. In Galatians Paul narrates the circumstances of his conversion, particularly his relationships to the other apostles (Galatians 1:17—2:17), a motif rendered necessary by the way in which the Judaizers in Galatia claimed the authority of those apostles. It is not necessary for Paul to go into these particulars at Philippi, where he was the only apostle known to the congregation. Instead, Paul concentrates his biographical comments on a contrast of “before” and “after” his conversion. The tone is accordingly more serene in Philippians than in Galatians, though he does use some pretty tough language to describe the Judaizers themselves (verse 2).
2 Chronicles 4: We come now to the furnishings of the Temple. It will have, first of all, a brazen altar, mizbach nechosheth, the counterpart of the Mosaic altar at Gibeon (verse 1; 1:6; Exodus 38:30), but larger.
In front of this altar will stand a large basin with a diameter of roughly seventeen feet, calculated to hold ten thousand gallons of water (verses 2,5). Indeed, Rabbinical commentators believed that the priests, who used it for bathing (verse 6), completely immersed themselves in it. The water in this basin was also dipped out to clean the sacrificial animals (verse 7).
A “sea” this basin was called, a name that Josephus ascribes to the sheer size of the thing (Antiquities 8.3.5), but an object so large and with so suggestive a name is not long in assuming a more complex symbolism. Solomon’s sea seems to symbolize those primeval waters of Creation, over which the Spirit of God hovered at the beginning of Genesis.
These two appointments of the Temple, the altar and the sea, both have their counterparts in that heavenly tabernacle made without hands: the golden altar on which are offered the prayers of the saints (Revelation 6:9; 8:3-5; 9:13; 11:1; 14:18; 16:7), and the glassy sea (Revelatoin4”6; 15:2), near which gather the twenty-four ancients that symbolize the twenty-four divisions of the priesthood (Revelation 4:4; 1 Chronicles 24:1-19).