October 18 – October 25, 2024

Friday, October 18

Galatians 4.1-11: Biblical history, the theme of our recent readings in Galatians, culminates in the Incarnation. Today’s verses include the fundamental Christian thesis that God sent his Son to earth; this is what we call the Son’s “enfleshing,” or “incarnation” (Latin caro, “flesh’). What does Paul have

The Incarnation is the Formal Principle of Divine Revelation itself. That is to say, the dogma of the Incarnation is not just one of the teachings of the Christian Church. It is, rather, the structural principle, the Formal Cause, of the Christian revelation. It is that which determines and gives form to the Christian religion in all its aspects.

To illustrate what we mean by this, it will be useful to contrast the Christian religion with the world’s second largest religion, Islam. I certainly hope not to be invidious in this comparison; I will endeavor not to misrepresent Islam in even the slightest measure. Indeed, I hope to say nothing about which a responsible Muslim would disagree.

To appreciate the difference between Islam and the Church with respect to revelation, let us start with Islam. According to universal Muslim teaching, Muhammad received the contents of the Qu’ran by direct dictation from the Archangel Gabriel. It is the direct word of God, according to this belief; it is in no sense the word of Muhammad. He contributed nothing to the process except the act of writing down what he was told.

That is to say, the words of the Qu’ran in no way entered into, or came through, the creative literary powers of Muhammad. He simply took dictation, word for word. The Qu’ran was in no way mediated through his thinking and imaginative powers. It remained entirely external to Muhammad. In no sense was he its author.

Please understand that this is not my view of the matter. I am not distorting the teaching of Islam on this point. It is a matter on which all Muslims, in all times and in all places, agree.

Now I submit that this view of revelation is radically alien to what the Christian religion means by the same word. What is missing in Islam is what we Christians call “The Incarnation Principle.” That is to say, we Christians believe that God never speaks to man in this way. We do not believe that a single word of divine revelation was simply “dictated.” Quite literally, we insist that the biblical God is not a “dictator.”

On the contrary, the Christian theology of revelation teaches that God speaks to man through the workings of his mind and heart. We believe that the teaching of the Pentateuch is not simply the word of God, but also the word of Moses. We contend that God spoke to Moses through divine inspiration, a mysterious process that included the thinking and imaginative powers of . . . Moses. God’s word is always likewise the word of some human being. The Incarnation Principle means that God’s word was filtered through the mind and heart of Moses. It comes to us through the inner agony of Jeremiah, the high inspiration of Isaiah, the probing minds of Job and Habakkuk, the near despair of Qoheleth, the lyric poetry of David, the disappointments of Jonah, the struggles of Nehemiah, the blood of Abel, the mystic raptures of Ezekiel, the slow, patient scholarship of Ezra, the careful narrative style of Mark, and the methodical, ponderous thinking of Paul.

It is the teaching of the Christian religion that God comes to us only through this Incarnation Principle. It finds expression in inspired literature, because it first assumed flesh in human history. This truth is indicated in that vision where Ezekiel sees God’s word on a scroll that he must eat. That is to say, God’s word always comes to us in a kind of digested form. It reaches us through someone else’s heart and mind.

Furthermore, the Incarnation is Efficient Cause of our own sanctification. God became man, so that man could become God: “God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, that we might receive the status as sons..” (in Greek, “status as sons” is a single word, huiothesia.)

God’s Son took flesh in the fullness of time in order to share with us, by divine grace, His own relationship with the Father. If we are in Christ, then God sees us as His own children. It is not a metaphor, but a reality, because in Christ we are reborn; we become partakers of the divine nature.

God does not simply impute Christ’s righteousness to us. He does not simply declare us righteous because of Christ. He causes us to be righteous in Christ. In Christ, united to Christ in faith, we are made new creatures, God’s very children. In Christ we have a new mode of existence, which enables us to live in this world as the true heirs of its history.

This new mode of life puts us into the family of God as His children. We are made the brothers and sisters of His only Son, and the heirs, with Him, of eternal life.

Saturday, October 19

Luke 11.5-8: Like, in his emphasis on constant prayer (cf.18.1), cites Jesus’ examples about repeated persistence in prayer. That is to say, in Luke’s Gospel there are several examples of repeated prayer. Today’s parable about the importune neighbor hits this theme. The neighbor in this story simply will not give up. He continues to knock and raise a ruckus until his pleading is answered. Luke will take up the same theme in chapter 18 in his stories about the persistent widow (18.2-8), the publican in the temple (18.13), and the blind man (19.39-29).

Since the Bible itself certainly encourages reiterated prayer and says nothing at all against the repetition of prayer formulas, one is in doubt how to account for that strange opposition to repeated prayer so noticeable among some Western Christians in recent centuries. It may be that the difficulty stems from the King James’ mistranslation of polulogia (“wordiness”) as “vain repetitions,” but I suspect that this mistranslation is itself the result of some historical bias I am unable to trace.

Nehemiah 6: The local opposition to Nehemiah’s building project next took a new and unbelievably clumsy tack, which he resisted with high disdain (verses 1-4). Failing this, his opponents then sent a letter with an implicit threat of denunciation (verses 5-7), but Nehemiah remained unimpressed (verse 8).

The story found here in verses 10-13 is not necessarily part of the chronological sequence but may have been put here because of its affinity to the two preceding stories.

Even before Shemaiah was in the employ of his opponents, Nehemiah smelled something wrong. He sensed that he was being invited to take a step he would regret. We observe him here, nonetheless, maintaining his composure under pressure, controlling his emotions, especially the emotion of fear, so as not to obscure his assessment of the situation (verse 14).

The wall, begun in the late summer, was finished fifty-two days later, in mid October (verse 15). About six months had passed since Nehemiah’s arrival in Jerusalem, and less than a year since his friends had come with sad news to Babylon. Once again, Sanballat and his friends learned of the wall’s completion only by rumor (verse 16).

Sunday, October 20

Nehemiah 7: Here is the largest census in the books of Ezra and Nehemiah (verses 6-72). For its compilation Nehemiah used an earlier source (verse 5), probably to be identified with that in Ezra 2. The difference between that earlier list and the present list is one of purpose and context. The list in Ezra 2 established the continuity with Israel’s past, especially with a view to validating the claims of the returning exiles with respect to their possession of the Holy Land. In the present chapter, however, the list is set in the context of Jerusalem’s new enclosure. It is the census of a city, not a mere list of returning exiles. It is a municipal instrument, which will serve as a format for taxation and civic service. It is a document of the community’s restoration and renewal. Consequently, it is included between the completion of the walls (verses 1-3) and the ceremony of renewal (chapters 8—10).

The long census transcribed in this place, precisely because it says so little that engages the imagination, allows the reader leisure to reflect on these more interesting aspects of Nehemiah.

All through this memoir we find Nehemiah a most engaging man. His steady, cool demeanor sat atop the cauldron of his emotions which, on occasion, found brief expression (cf. 1:4; 5:12; 13:8,25). Surely, however, those emotions did much to drive his highly effective style of energy, skill, and organization. Nor was Nehemiah entirely free from tooting his own horn from time to time (2:10,18; 5:15; 6:11).

Trained as an executive and diplomat, Nehemiah’s rhetorical skills were economic, efficient, and to the point (2:17; 5:7; 13:25). Whatever his fears, they were under control; we never find him acting in panic. He was also a reflective man, much given to short, frequent, and fervent prayers that are interspersed in the narrative (2:8,10,20; 3:36-37; 4:9; 5:13,19; 6:14,16; 13:14,22,31,39).

Although the walls of Jerusalem were completed in record time, Nehemiah did not rush things. Before ever arriving at Jerusalem, he had made the proper arrangements for the materials to be used in the construction, and before even calling a meeting for the project, he inspected the site in detail and formulated a plan.

In the next chapter our attention will turn once again to the figure of Ezra, who had arrived in Jerusalem earlier than Nehemiah. Ezra was a priest and scholar, Nehemiah a practical man of affairs. Both together were responsible for the spiritual maintenance of Jerusalem in the fifth century before Christ. In this respect, their joint vocation mirrored that of Zerubbabel and Jeshua late in the previous period.

Monday, October 21

Nehemiah 8: We come now to the renewal of the covenant (chapters 8—10). The story begins with the public reading of the Law.

In modern church parlance this chapter describes a “revival,” or a “parish renewal,” or even a “Life Alive Weekend.” We are apparently still in October of 445 (7:73), the season associated with the Feast of Tabernacles. While Nehemiah has only recently arrived, Ezra has been in Jerusalem for thirteen years, and maybe he figured that the place could use a good dose of “old time religion.”

Ezra, as we reflected earlier, had been engaged in editing the Torah, and the people wanted to hear it (verses 2-3). They gathered to the east of the city (verse 1), not a normal place for gathering. Given the mystic symbolism of this site (the panorama of the Kidron Valley and the Mount of Olives) in two of Israel’s most recent prophets (Ezekiel and Zechariah), their choice of this place to gather was surely significant. It was morning, and the sun was rising over the Mount of Olives when they began.

There was a lengthy proclamation of the Word (verses 4-5), along with prayer and devotion (verse 6). As Ezra read the text in Hebrew, which by now was only a scholar’s language, running translations were provided in the common spoken language, Aramaic (verses 7-8). Such Aramaic (and later Greek) translations and paraphrases of the Old Testament are known as Targumim or Targums, which in modern biblical research constitute a special area of study.

It was a scene of great emotion, with the experiences of conversion, remorse, and rejoicing mixed together (verses 9-12). All of this took place in the context of the Feast of Tabernacles (verses 14-18; cf. John 7:2). The observance of this feast was an initial act in the maintenance of the Law.

Psalms 120 (119 in Greek & Latin): This is a psalm about the “sojourn” of God’s people through history; we are on a journey, we believers, and this earth is not our final destination. Such is the message of this psalm.

The First Epistle of Peter may serve as a kind of commentary on Psalm 120. Indeed, St. Peter actually uses the word “sojourn” with reference to the Church; “conduct yourselves throughout the time of your stay here [or “sojourn” (paroikia, the root word of our English “parish”) in fear” (1 Pet. 1:17), he exhorts “the pilgrims of the Dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia” (1:1). Their situation is exactly that of our psalm. Peter calls them “sojourners (paroicous) and pilgrims” (2:11). He also mentions that these pilgrims of the Dispersion are being tempted, “grieved by various trials” (1:6), constantly reproached by those outside as evildoers (2:12, 20; 3:16; 4:14, 16).

But by doing good, Peter assures them, they will “put to silence the ignorance of foolish men” (2:15). For their model, he holds out to them the suffering of Christ, “who, when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten” (2:23). “Therefore let those who suffer according to the will of God commit their souls to Him” (4:19).

Tuesday, October 22

Nehemiah 9: Most of this chapter is filled with a long “narrative prayer” similar to several psalms that recount Israel’s formative history (e.g., Psalms 78 [77], 105 [104], 106 [105]). One will likewise observe sustained similarities to Deuteronomy 32, the Canticle of Moses, which immediately preceded Israel’s entrance into Canaan. From the perspective of textual history these similarities are hardly surprising, if we remember that Ezra was an editor of the Pentateuch. The great bulk of the narrative in the present chapter is devoted to the themes from the Exodus, the desert wandering, and the conquest, but the period of the Judges and some of the later history are also treated.

The prayer here is important in the context of the later events with which the books of Ezra and Nehemiah are preoccupied, namely, the events connected with the nation’s re-founding. For both men, Ezra and Nehemiah, the restoration of Israel was precisely that — a restoration. Israel could not be started again from scratch. The new Israel would go nowhere unless it came from somewhere, and the present prayer serves as a reflection on where Israel had come from.

From Israel’s earlier history, furthermore, the nation was to learn important lessons about historical causality, particularly the relationship of later events to earlier decisions. Israel would be instructed on how infidelity and punishment are tied together by history. Israel, according to this prayer, was to learn its history, not so much that the people might imitate their fathers, but in order to discourage them from imitating their fathers! They were to reflect on the mistakes of the past so as not to repeat them in the future. Such meditation on history is an important aspect of biblical prayer, as we see in so many of the Psalms devoted to that theme.

Indeed, there is considerable irony in the idea that the fathers are to teach their children in order that they children do not become like the fathers: “For He established a testimony in Jacob, ?And appointed a law in Israel,? Which He commanded our fathers,? That they should make them known to their children; That the generation to come might know them,? The children who would be born,? That they may arise and declare them to their children, That they may set their hope in God,? And not forget the works of God,? But keep His commandments; And may not be like their fathers (Psalm 78:5-8).

Wednesday, October 23

Psalms 132 (Greek & Latin 131): As Israel’s mounting pilgrims neared the top of Mount Zion and beheld the glory of the temple in greater detail, they sometimes spoke thus to one another: “See what manner of stones and what buildings!” (Mark 13:1). They doubtless also reflected, some of them, on how that temple came to be on Mount Zion, and such reflections perhaps go far to explain why Psalm 132) is found toward the end of these “psalms of ascent.” This psalm is concerned, after all, with David’s role in the construction of Jerusalem’s temple.

As the pilgrims remembered King David in the context of the temple, they prayed that the Lord would do so too: “O Lord, remember David and all his self-abasement—how he swore unto the Lord, and vowed an oath to the God of Jacob.” And exactly what were the terms of David’s oath? “The shelter of my house I shall not enter, nor mount to lie upon my bed; neither close my eyes to sleep, nor let my eyelids drop in slumber, nor give repose unto my brow—till I should find the Lord a place, a shelter for the God of Jacob.”

There are several details in these lines most striking and worthy of comment. First, there is a pronounced delay in the pace. The verses move very slowly and deliberately, as though David were quite tired. Each movement is detailed: entering the house, climbing the steps to go to bed, closing the eyelids and resting the eyes, letting the head sink into the pillow. It is the entire process of relaxing and falling asleep. But the irony, of course, is that David is not going to do any of these things! He looks longingly, as it were, at a coveted chance to rest, but he forswears indulging it, until he accomplish this great task of building the Lord a temple.

Second, the reason prompting David to make this vow is that the Lord Himself does not yet have a dwelling comparable to David’s own. (The same word, skenoma, translated here as “shelter,” is used to speak of both David’s house and the Lord’s.) Although the narrative descriptions of David’s resolve (cf. 2 Sam. 7:1–13; 1 Chr. 22:7; Acts 7:46) do not speak specifically of an oath in this respect, we know that David was disturbed by the circumstance that his own dwelling was so much superior to the Lord’s desert tabernacle (2 Sam. 7:2). This sentiment of deep piety in David’s soul is what our psalm calls his praütes, meekness or self-abasement.

Third, we are well advised not to interpret literally every detail of our psalm’s description of David’s oath. Otherwise we might conclude that David never again went to bed, since he did not, in fact, build the temple. Nonetheless, there is good reason to believe that David sometimes went to bed toward the end of his life (cf. 1 Kin. 1:1–4)!

In ascribing this large role to David in the construction of Solomon’s temple, Psalm 132 is in harmony with the perspective in 1 Chr. 28 and 29, where David is described as making the necessary preparations for the building and conferring on Solomon the mandate to build it. The affinities between Psalm 131 and the theology of the Chronicler are further indicated by the latter’s recording Solomon quoting a verse from this psalm: “Arise, O Lord God, to Your resting place, / You and the ark of Your strength” (2 Chr. 6:41).

The psalm goes on to tell of God’s answer to David’s plan, which involved a special covenant with David’s family. If David had thought to build God a house (bayit), God would build David a (i>bayit, in the sense of a household dynasty. The latter would be divinely protected forever: “For David’s sake, Your servant, scorn not the face of Your anointed (christos). The Lord has pledged His truth to David, which He will never nullify: ‘From your very body’s fruit, will I set a man upon your throne.’”

In this perspective, the proper place for the temple is Jerusalem precisely because it is David’s city. That is to say, the place of God’s covenant is the House of David, so the temple is designated as God’s house because of His covenant with David. After saying that David’s “sons shall sit upon your throne forevermore,” Psalm 132 goes on immediately to speak of the temple: “For the Lord selected Zion for Himself; He has chosen her for His own dwelling: ‘This is My resting place forever; here will l dwell, for I have chosen her.’”

The Church reads all such texts as prophecies, of course, finding their fulfillment solely in Christ our Lord. He is at once the new Temple and that very son of David who gives defining substance to God’s covenant sworn to the son of Jesse. When we pray this psalm, it is entirely with reference to its fulfillment in Jesus, the Anointed One and the Temple.

Thursday, October 24

Galatians 6.11-18: In these closing lines of the Epistle to the Galatians, Paul returns to the specific context that prompted this letter: He speaks again of those Jewish-Christian preachers who insisted that full conversion to Christ necessarily included the rite of circumcision. That is to say, they contended that, in order to become a Christian, it was necessary to become a Jew. Against that thesis, Paul contended, “in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision avails anything, but a new creation.’

The insistence on circumcision served only one purpose: to deflect Christ from the center of the Gospel. Any attention given to that subject, Paul believed, replaced the centrality of Christ. Concern about circumcision represented a distraction.

Nehemiah 11: We have already seen the theological significance of the sort of census data that we have in this chapter. The present list comprises the names of those within the walls that have been constructed. They are the separated people, the “insiders,” symbolic of the inner identity of the holy nation.

All through these two books we have watched the outsiders trying to get inside–or at least to have access to the inside–exercising a sustained harassment of those inside. We saw the response of Zerubbabel, for instance, to the suggestion, in Ezra 4:1-3, that there be no distinction between insider and outsider, because Israel’s pre-captivity history had already taught him the dangers of not insisting on that distinction. The outsiders, thus rebuffed, have spent the rest of these two books trying to prevent the separating walls from being constructed. As the enemies of Jerusalem’s walls, they were attempting to keep Israel from being Israel. They perceived that the walls symbolized exclusiveness, and they resented being outsiders.

This is a curious phenomenon. Why, after all, should they care? If Israel wanted to be exclusive, why should that preference bother anybody else? In fact, nonetheless, Israel’s exclusiveness was deeply resented. Israel’s claim to be a special and holy people, a claim that laid special moral responsibilities on Israel, was simply more than other people could endure. Consequently, Israel’s adversaries have spent much of these two books in a genuine and aggressive snit.

The one place where Israel was truly threatened, however, was not in its building programs, but in the construction of its families, the formation of its homes. Thus, intermarriage with outsiders, which so incensed both Ezra and Nehemiah, was the single path by which Israel could be most effectively led astray.

These lists of Jewish families, therefore, are very pertinent to the general preoccupation and theme of these two books. These genealogies are spiritual walls, designed to protect the identity of God’s chosen people.

The provision permitting one-tenth of its citizens (chosen by lot) to live in the Holy City established a kind of tithe, as it were, of the entire nation. Those who otherwise chose to live there represented a corresponding “free will offering” of the nation.

Friday, October 25

Nehemiah 12: This chapter, which begins with another genealogical list of priests and Levites (verses 1-26), indicates the importance that proper and verifiable “succession” enjoys in the biblical theology of institutional ministry (as distinct from prophetic ministry).

Next comes an account of the solemn dedication of the wall (verses 27-47) and all that that wall represented by way of the symbolisms we have been discussing.

It is reasonable to understand the narrative’s return to first person singular in verse 31 as an indication that we are once again dealing with the memoir of Nehemiah, on which so much of this book is based.

According to 2 Maccabees 1:18, the event narrated in this chapter took place, not in September, but in December, falling very close in the calendar, in fact, to the date of the Maccabees’ own purification of the temple (recorded in 1 Maccabees 4:60). Both events—the dedication of the walls under Nehemiah in the fifth century and the purification of the temple under Judas Maccabaeus in the second century—are called “Hanukkah,” meaning inauguration or dedication (verse 27; John 4:22). (Only the latter event, however, was incorporated into the Jewish liturgical calendar and is celebrated by Jews each December even today.)

Nehemiah saw to it that the city was ritually circled by two simultaneous processions conducted on top of the walls, complete with trumpets. The dedication of the walls is portrayed, therefore, as an event of worship. The simultaneous procession of the two groups, marching in opposite directions, constituted what one commentator calls “a stereophonic presentation.”

Nehemiah 13: The dedication of the wall was the occasion for some more reading from the Torah, including the prescription found in Deuteronomy 23:4-5, which excluded the Ammonites and Moabites from the congregation of Israel (verse 1). As long as Nehemiah was on the local scene, such exclusions were taken seriously (verses 2-3). When he left to make a brief visit back to Babylon (verse 6), however, events turned for the worse. On his return to Jerusalem Nehemiah learned all sorts of unpleasant things.

He learned, for instance, that a member of the priestly family had become the son-in-law of his old foe, Sanballat (verse 28). In former days, when Sanballat tried to impede the construction of the wall, Nehemiah had held him off. Now, nonetheless, Sanballat was suddenly inside the walls! What he had been unable to do by force of arms, he managed to accomplish by the simple means of marrying his daughter to a priest! This serious breach in Jerusalem’s spiritual wall once again put at peril Israel’s very existence as a holy nation, a people set apart.

In addition, Nehemiah discovered that the high priest himself had provided lodging within the temple for one of those who had opposed Nehemiah’s very mission (verses 4-5). Other things had gotten out of hand, as well, such as the failure to observe the Sabbath, whether by Jews themselves or by pagans who came to sell their wares in the city (verses 15-22).

Nehemiah set himself to put everything straight again (verses 7-13). The major problem, however, continued to be the disposition of the people to intermarry with non-Jews (verses 23-27), in contravention to the Torah (Exodus 34:16; Deuteronomy 7:3). Nehemiah found it a very tough job to maintain those walls!

Recalling those great efforts, Nehemiah prayed that God would not forget them, “Remember me, O Lord” became his refrain (verses 14,22,29,30).