Theology Thursday Lite: The Great Catch of Fish
I’m going to keep this brief this week. Seriously. I was reading in Luke 5, about the Great Catch of Fish. Allow me to sum up:
Jesus gets into Simon(Peter)’s boat and tells him to go out and let the nets down again. James and John are in another 
boat. Presumably, Andrew is in Peter’s boat. They fish and come up with such a large catch that it almost sinks the boat. Peter senses there’s something different about Jesus and confesses that he’s a sinful man. Jesus reassures him that He can still use him, and calls him and the sons of Zebedee to follow Him.
I’ve always wondered what the purpose of the Great Catch was. Certainly it alerted Peter to Jesus’ power, but might there have been something else at work? I wonder if it might have been Jesus’ way of compensating Zebedee (and Peter and Andrew’s business partners, whoever they were) for the loss of their four main fishermen.
Does that even make sense?
Theology Thursday: Perfect Through Suffering
Well, I asked for somebody to lob me a topic for Theology Thursday, and it happened! JonV, former little kid and now full-fledged adult, working as a Clean Water Engineer with the Mennonite Central Committee in Tete, Mozambique, filled out the Suggest a Topic! form, and now I’ll attempt to do his question justice.
The big news here, though, is that Jon referred to me in the email as “Seth” and not “Mr. Heasley.” Keep in mind I’ve known him since he was shorter than I am, back when The Fair Elaine and I were working with the youth in our old church. Back in the previous century, you know.
Jon’s question is from Hebrews 5:8 and following, which says:
Hebrews 5:8-10 (ESV)
8 Although he was a son, he learned obedience through what he suffered. 9 And being made perfect, he became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him, 10 being designated by God a high priest after the order of Melchizedek.
This passage seems to imply that Jesus had some growing to do before he could be our High Priest. More than that, it seems to imply there was some perfection that Jesus lacked. This seems offensive to our “He’s the perfect man, he’s the Lord’s own son” sensibilities. And yes, that’s a classic Petra reference (The Coloring Song).
So there’s the question: What does it mean that Jesus learned obedience or became perfect?
Right off the top, I’d point out that there’s really only one question here. The two parts of the question, I believe, are a bit of parallelism. So “Christ learned obedience through suffering” = “He was made perfect.” I don’t think there’s a way to separate the two thoughts.
Of course, it’s tough to address a question from the Epistles without having the greater context of the letter in mind. So, being a reader, I read the book of Hebrews over the weekend. There are a couple of verses that stick out to most readers, but they’re on the Eternal Security question, and I think the emphasis on them distracts from the greater arc of the letter. I’ve read Hebrews probably ten times now, but the beauty of the letter really hit me this time.
For those unfamiliar with it, the writer of Hebrews (Luke? Apollos? Titus?) makes a sustained argument about Christ’s role as the High Priest of the New Covenant, and addresses how his new role affects humans. An outline looks something like this: (and you can find something similar in most study Bibles)
- Chapter 1 – Christ superior to angels
- Chapter 2 – Christ made like us
- Chapter 3, 4 – Christ greater than Moses
- Chapter 5 – Christ as priest despite his non-Levitical lineage
- Chapter 6 – Warnings against apostasy
- Chapter 7 – Christ superior to the Levitical Priests
- Chapter 8 – Christ as the priest of a New Covenant
- Chapter 9 – The Earthly Temple was never anything but a copy of the Heavenly Temple
- Chapter 10 – Christ’s sacrifice superior to animal sacrifice
- Chapter 11 – How we access Christ’s work: Through Faith
- Chapter 12 – Our response: Faith and endurance through suffering
- Chapter 13 – The sacrifices God honors: Praise and Serving Others
I wanted to include this outline first to inspire someone to go and read Hebrews. As I wrote, it’s very easy to get freaked by the warnings against apostasy and to miss the greater points about how Christ accomplished our salvation.
It’s really impossible to answer Jon’s question without tracing it through the whole book, or at least a couple of the chapters. Because Chapter 5 isn’t the only place where Christ’s being perfected shows up. In fact, there’s a much earlier reference:
Hebrews 2:10 (ESV)
10 For it was fitting that he, for whom and by whom all things exist, in bringing many sons to glory, should make the founder of their salvation perfect through suffering.
Keep in mind that Chapter 2 discusses how Christ was made like us. Further down, we have this verse:
Hebrews 2:17 (ESV)
17 Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people.
In this sense, we’re looking at how Christ was made perfect for his role. He had to be like us, and to suffer as we suffer, in order for him to truly represent us.
(BTW, I want to make it clear that this idea didn’t originate with me. I did some Googling and whatnot and this is the position I think is correct, or at least makes sense.)
So anyway, I’d sum up the writer’s argument this way: Christ was the mediator of a better covenant, was qualified to be its High Priest by being appointed to it by God, was made fitting for it by what he suffered, and further qualified by enduring suffering in obedience. Which brings me to Hebrews 7:
Hebrews 7:26 (ESV)
26 For it was indeed fitting that we should have such a high priest, holy, innocent, unstained, separated from sinners, and exalted above the heavens.
One more thing I’m going to throw in here. The Internet is a great tool for researching Bible Blogs. I looked up the word “to make perfect” ("teleioo", for the record) from 2:10 and 5:9, and in the range of definitions is “to be found perfect.” Going with that definition, we wouldn’t have to do any wordful wrangling. It would just be relating that Christ endured his sufferings perfectly, not that the sufferings somehow made him perfect.
Well, Jon, I hope that helps. I even managed to keep it under a thousand words! Feel free to weigh in in the comments.
Theology Thursday: Something to Sing About
Reading the Bible can be interesting sometimes, just trying to figure out what it is, exactly, I’m reading. There’s some history, which would seem fairly straightforward, but even then I know that this particular history was recorded for a reason, so there’s a didactic twist to it. And there are other apparent history portions that make me wonder if they’re written as history but intended only to teach a lesson.
And then there are the Epistles, where I’m conscious of reading someone else’s mail. And then there’s poetry. Reading Psalms, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs, and Job takes an extra bit of concentration sometimes, because the imagery and language style differ from Western Poetry.
And if the Epistles are like reading someone else’s mail, with all the challenges inherent there, what about Song of Songs? It’s like reading someone else’s love letters. Or even more than that, like spying on two lovers.
Throughout history, Blblical interpreters, uncomfortable with the idea that Song of Songs is basically about sex, have taken various approaches to allegorizing it. It’s about God’s relationship with Israel! It’s about Christ and the Church!
Yeah, it’s about sex. Which isn’t a bad thing, of course, because it’s nice to have a straightforward approval given, in the Bible, for sexuality in its proper place.
And yet, I’m still not sure what to make of it. I mean, it’s supposedly a celebration of married love, but isn’t it ostensibly penned by Solomon? Of the seven hundred wives and three hundred concubines? Doesn’t the whole polygamy thing dilute, somewhat, the specialness?
Then again, maybe I’m missing the point. Any tips on interpreting this book?
By the way, let the record show that I have now officially blogged about Song of Songs. One more crossed off The List, four more to go!
(Oh, and if you’re wondering why I’m in Song of Songs in February, it’s because I’ve been reading a chapter per day of Psalms and the other Poeticals. I’m saving Job for last.)
I believe I’m now out of topics for the foreseeable future, though I have a few theology books I could finish up and review. But if you wanted to lob me a topic, now would be a good time. (Use the Suggest a Topic!!! link!)
Theology Thursday: Saints or Sinners?
I generally try to come to Theology Thursday with a well-thought-out idea, complete with Bible references. But today I just wanted to write about something I’ve been wondering about, but without most of the actual effort involved with making a Biblical case for it. Call it laziness if you want.
It seems that it’s the thing to do these days for Christians to call themselves sinners. Or to emphasis their sinfulness, by way of (perhaps?) trying not to look pompous or judgmental.
Certainly, it wouldn’t necessarily help my witness if I went around calling myself a saint, right? Or should I update my Facebook profile to say something like this:
“Seth: Husband, Father, Baseball Fan, Saint.”
But isn’t just a bit odd to insert “Sinner” there, too? Is that really part of who I am, any more than “Baseball Fan” is? Do I really need to emphasize my own sinfulness? And mightn’t I just as easily put “Human” for all the information it gives? Where does this emanate from?
I suspect there are a number of different motivations that feed this tendency for us to insist that we’re “just sinners, saved by grace.”
- It’s a defense against unbelievers who call Christians hypocrites. If we call ourselves sinners, then we can hardly be called hypocritical when we fail, right?
- It just looks pious.
- We feel, acutely, our own sinfulness and express our gratitude to God by emphasizing it.
- The word “saint” just doesn’t fly today.
I mainly want to write about #4, but I’ll take comments on any of them, or suggestions for other possible motivations. I do think that #3 is certainly a common reason, particularly among men, for going with the Sinner label. I could be off-base here, but I think the types of things men tend to struggle with get more attention, and therefore are felt more acutely. (Definitely generalizing here.)
But I definitely think that the reason we can’t really get away with '”saint” is that it’s not a well-understood word these days. The word itself conjures up, at least to Protestants, images of icons or statues in a Catholic or Orthodox church, and has an almost sterile, ivory tower connotation.
(This in spite of the fact that any treatment of the Lives of the Saints will normally have ample evidence that these saintly folks were awfully human, too.)
“Saint” simply means “holy ones.” Well, that’s not much of an improvement, is it? “Holy” is another misunderstood word, because it doesn’t mean “perfect,” but rather “set apart.”
I know I said I wouldn’t get all Biblical on this topic, but go look at the salutations of the Epistles in the New Testament. A goodly percentage of them are addressed to “the saints” in a particular city. Certainly there was no implication of the people of the churches in those ancient cities being any less sinful than we are today.
At the risk of sounding like Stuart Smalley, isn’t there some value in positive affirmation? I’m not into the Word of Faith doctrine, in which faith is seen as a force and words as having some mystical power. But it seems to me that calling ourselves “sinners” is similar to a person who’s been sober twenty years calling himself an alcoholic. (And here I really step in it.)
Yes, we are sinners. But we’ve been bought with a price and set apart to be saints.
Thoughts?
Theology Thursday: Redeemed
Back on New Year’s Eve, I engaged in a short debate-ish thing with my Esteemed Partner in Pavement Pounding about Jephthah, and specifically about whether he sacrificed his daughter in Judges 11. (Whoa, I just totally pulled that chapter reference out of my head! Sweet!) I took the negative proposition, that Jephthah did not sacrifice his daughter, though the wording of the passage seems to indicate he did. (You can go read it if you want. I’ll wait.)
Mostly my position is based in logic. And it goes like this:
- God does not approve of human sacrifice
- God approved of Jephthah (Hebrews 11)
- Therefore, Jephthah did not engage in human sacrifice
But then, a couple of weeks ago, I came across an additional bit of support for my position. (By the way, you’d probably like to know what I think Jephthah did sacrifice, right? The short answer is something acceptable.)
My new evidence came from Exodus 13, when the Lord commanded the consecration of the firstborn. Here’s the passage:
Exodus 13:12-13 (ESV):
12 you shall set apart to the LORD all that first opens the womb. All the firstborn of your animals that are males shall be the LORD’s. 13 Every firstborn of a donkey you shall redeem with a lamb, or if you will not redeem it you shall break its neck. Every firstborn of man among your sons you shall redeem.
The “shall be the LORD’s” part seems to indicate that they would be sacrificed. But not all species would be sacrificed. Only clean animals. Others would be redeemed with a lamb. And firstborn sons, in particular, were consecrated to the service of the Lord (see Numbers 3), though later the tribe of Levi was taken for that service (but all firstborn sons of other tribes still had to be redeemed).
But my main point here is that an Israelite couldn’t offer just anything to God. Even when bringing a clean animal to sacrifice, it had to be spotless. God seemed to be very particular about what could be offered.
In this passage, the example of a donkey is given. Checking Leviticus 11 (a lot of 11th chapters in this post), we note that the donkey doesn’t have cloven hooves, so it’s unclean. It has to be redeemed (or throttled, apparently).
So, back to Jephthah’s case. He promised to offer what came out of his tent to the Lord. But he was an Israelite, and knew that he could only offer something clean. Anything unclean, he would have to redeem. But it would still belong to the Lord.
So, Jephthah’s daughter would have been redeemed, but would have been consecrated to the Lord. If this is so, and she was dedicated to service, she may not have been able to marry. This makes a good deal more sense when one considers that she lamented not her impending death, but rather her virginity. Jephthah’s grief would be explained by his knowledge that his line would end with her, since she was his only daughter.
This also seems to match the chronology of Judges 11, as one of the concluding verses says this:
Judges 11:39 (NKJV, just because it’s more word-for-word)
39 And it was so at the end of two months that she returned to her father, and he carried out his vow with her which he had vowed. She knew no man.
It might be stretching things a bit, it seems the “she knew no man” happened after Jephthah had fulfilled the vow.
BTW, I’m comfortably out of the mainstream with my interpretation here. Most commentators think that in the time of the Judges, the Law wasn’t observed particularly well, and so resorting to human sacrifice wasn’t be all that surprising, and Jephthah was honored for keeping a painful vow. But the writer of Hebrews doesn’t mention the sacrifice at all, so I think my explanation fits.
Now that we’re done with that, I’m shocked that my feeble little brain is just now really connecting the redemption of the firstborn with the fact that mankind was redeemed by the Lamb of God. The unclean redeemed by the clean. The broader idea of redemption by a lamb/bull is pretty well documented, but this specific idea is just now settling in for me. Guess I need to keep reading.
Theology Thursday Lite: In All Points
I have to say that I’m enjoying my less rigorous read-through this year. I’m finding I’m enjoying the reading more, going at a slower pace. I’ve even got a few Theology Thursday topics rolling around between my ears.
So, it’s my first New Testament post of the year!
Matthew 4 details Christ’s temptation in the wilderness. The three temptations are:
- To change stones to bread, to fill his hunger
- To jump off the Temple, counting on God’s protection
- To worship Satan, in exchange for the kingdoms of the world
You can find any number of creative interpretations of the three temptations and what they represent. But the thing I’ve been pondering is this:
Could Jesus have sinned?
Grand Theological Term Alert! The doctrine of The Impeccability of Christ says that Jesus was incapable of sin. I do not hold to this doctrine, and the reason is simple: I don’t think it’s Biblical.
Hebrews 4:15 (ESV, my emphasis):
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.
Okay, yes, I’ve strayed a bit from Matthew, but in my defense, I did once do a read-through where I read Matthew and then went straight to Hebrews (whoa, and my first Bible-Blog post was about it.)
I think the verse pretty much says it all, but I’ll admit that my thoughts on this are more logical than anything. And in that respect, I’m willing to have my logic adjusted.
I guess my objection is also a bit emotional, because if Jesus couldn’t sin, I’m not sure what was admirable or meritorious about His resisting temptation. How is it even remarkable in any way? And why would the writer of Hebrews think to mention it?
After all, how could Christ sympathize with us if the temptation He experienced was anything but just like ours?
For instance, I can’t really sympathize with an alcoholic, because I have no particular temptation to drink. (In fact, I’m putting it somewhat mildly. I think beer and wine taste alarmingly like vomit. And that’s when trying what others call “the good stuff.”)
Maybe I’m way off base here, but I think I’m making sense. Comments?
Theology Thursday: Original Guilt or Original Sin?
I love coming back to the beginning of a Bible read-through. There’s something comforting in reading Genesis again. Of course, that comfort usually wears off about the time I get into Exodus. But I still revel in the beginning.
I’ve thought a lot about Origins in the last few years, and at this point I’m decidedly undecided on what to make of Genesis 1-3. I’m definitely not a Young-Earth Creationist, but I’m not ready to throw Adam and Eve out, either.
I’m planning on doing a post on Origins at some point, but I’m not ready for it yet. If I run short of topics, I’ll double back and hit it later. Or I’ll wait until next year. That’s the kind of priority I put on the topic.
As I said (well, wrote), I’m not ready to throw Adam and Eve out, because I still have to deal with The Fall. It’s a topic I haven’t studied as much as I need to, and at some point I want to read Bonhoeffer’s Creation and Fall.
But what I do understand is this: something happened. I know. Profound, right?
Now, some people want to say that Adam’s sin is somehow inherited by all his progeny, and not in some vague spiritual way, but as a stain on the soul that makes even a newborn ineligible for Heaven. I reject this idea.
I also reject the idea that, somehow, Adam’s sin explains our tendency to sin. And I think I can explain why I reject it.
Quick, off the top of your head, come up with two names of people in the Bible who didn’t have a fallen nature. (Old Testament only, please. And I’m not sure Jesus would be a correct answer anyway. I know this gets me into trouble at times, but I believe He was like us. But come back next week for more on that topic.)
Did you come up with the names? Or were you distracted by my little parenthetical (and inflammatory) statement? The two names I was looking for were:
Adam and Eve!!!
Yes, here we have an example of two people who were born without any stain of Original Sin on them. And how did they fare? You got it. They still sinned. They didn’t need a Fallen Nature to make them fall. So Original Sin certainly isn’t a good explanation for Why We Sin.
I’m not any closer to understanding our sinful natures, because without recourse to Original Sin, there’s a disturbing possibility: God created us with the tendency toward sin and then expected us to battle that tendency. Or He just created in us the ability to choose and didn’t tip the scales toward obedience or disobedience and we all get to choose (seems to fit with Romans 5:12). It’s an interesting brain-burner anyway.
So when it really comes down to it, I don’t have a problem with the doctrine of Original Sin, even if I don’t understand it, so much as the doctrine of Original Guilt. Yes, our First Parents sinned. Yes, we all sin. But we bear the burden of our sins, and not the sins of our parents. And I think the weight of Scripture is on my side here, what with all the insistence that children will not be punished for their parents’ sins. (And no, I don’t think Exodus 20:5 proves me wrong here.)
Thoughts? Original Sin or Original Guilt? Are we born stained? I’m happy to be corrected here.
Split Pea Soup, Bookmarks
I like soup. It’s easy to make, pairs well with my favorite breads, and makes great leftovers. One of the first ones I learned to make was Split Pea with Ham. Since we had our Christmas ham on January 7th this year, I had leftover ham! So I make soup!
It’s basically the ham bone, a package of split peas, an onion, a couple of carrots and stalks of celery, and some spices. Oh, and garlic, of course. And water. And it’s seriously good.
Feel free to download the recipe.
--- - --- - --- - ---
For my Bible Reading, I make myself bookmarks, so I can just check off the chapters as I read them. I’m sometimes asked for the bookmark files, so I turned them into PDFs and uploaded them.
You can either read my ideas about Bible Reading and then go grab the bookmarks, or you can just grab them here:
- New Testament
- Old Testament – Poetry
- Old Testament – Pentateuch and History (two-sided)
- Old Testament – Prophets (can be printed two-sided with Poetry)
And for the non-bookmarkish types, here’s a three-page set of boxes to check off:
Theology Thursday Book Review: Halley’s Bible Handbook
I wish there was a Jedi Mind Trick emoticon. Because I’d use it now.
{ { { You did not notice that I posted a Wordful Wednesday on Thursday } } }
Last year, under the influence of Halley’s Bible Handbook, I undertook to read through the Old Testament once and the New Testament twice. (The logic was that the NT is twice as valuable. It’s also much shorter.
The Handbook is a classic Biblical Studies tool you’ll find on most lists of useful study aids, so I also undertook to read it along with my Bible reading. This did not go well.
You see, I do my Bible reading while enjoying my morning coffee/tea, and then I like to move on to another book while I eat breakfast. I suppose that reading the 
Handbook wasn’t a good enough change of pace for me, or something. I’m really not sure. But I am sure that what with basically reading an entire book of the New Testament every weekend, I just couldn’t keep up with Halley’s and do any other reading.
And so it sat. Oh, I had gotten a head start on it, reading the introductory chapters and those not explicitly connected with a book of the Bible, before the year even began. (I crunched the numbers, and it was 184 pages of “other” stuff.)
Essentially, Halley’s Bible Handbook is a concise commentary on the Bible, with extra Bible Dictionary/Encyclopedia bits and tangents built in.
As in most study Bibles, each book of the Bible is introduced with such topics as Author, Date, and Occasion of Writing. The commentary is then broken into major sections and subsections, so it’s much like Cliff Notes on the Bible. So if you wondered, say, what the topic was in Matthew 13, you could look it up and find out (I’m looking now) that it’s mostly Kingdom Parables.
For me, the really good parts of the Handbook were the archaeology notes and some of the More Info parts like the section on the inter-testamental Period and Church History.
Interestingly, the title page reveals what the author/editor feels to be The Most Important Page In This Book. In my copy, it’s page 814, and here’s how it starts:
THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN THIS BOOK
IS
This Simple Suggestion:
THAT EACH CHURCH HAVE A CONGREGATIONAL PLAN OF BIBLE READING
and
THAT THE PASTOR’s SERMON BE FROM THE PART OF THE BIBLE READ THE PAST WEEK
Thus connecting
The Pastor’s Preaching with the People’s Bible Reading.
Frankly, I agree with the sentiment, and I don’t doubt Halley’s assertion that this would result in a “Re-Vitalized Church.” But I also recognize that the re-vitalized church might be leaner. But those who remained would have, you know, Bible knowledge imparted to them.
So if you’re up for 800+ pages of really small print, pick up a copy at your local used book store. Or grab a new one from Amazon.
(One quick thing I wanted to note: Halley’s Bible Handbook is definitely targeted at Protestants, containing not a few anti-Roman statements/interpretations.)
Theology Thursday: Two Little J’s
Yes, I realize I used an apostrophe in the title. And I am aware that “Js” would’ve been perfectly acceptable in a way that “As” wouldn’t be. (Because “As” is a word and not clearly the plural of the letter A.) But since I’d rather be consistent in my letter pluralization, it’s “J’s” for me. (Numbers I generally leave unapostrophied. Stupid spell-check doesn’t recognize “unapostrophied,” an obviously good word. Or “pluralization” for that matter)
Well, the whole year has been leading up to this, my last Theology Thursday post of the year. And all I’m going to do is ramble very briefly about 3 John and Jude, since they’re the last danglers from The List that I can get to this year. The others will have to wait until I get back around to them sometime around the middle of next year.
Which, by the way, reminds me to remind you that I’m totally open to topic suggestions, or even Bible questions you’ve always wondered about and just didn’t have anyone to ask. Not that I’ll know the answers, but I can ferret out an answer with the best of them, so fire away if you’d like. I also take book recommendations, though I’ve got a stack of theology books to work through next year. A quick count tells me the tally is seven. So that should get me through a few months. But I’m not promising to read one per week, so still lob me those suggestions. (Use the Suggest a Topic! form.)
For anyone wanting to read along with my Bible read-through, I’m planning on reading the English Standard Version again. My extremely exact and precise plan is this:
- Read one Psalm per day. You might actually enjoy them one at a time, and they’re great when read as prayers (in general).
- Read between three and five chapters (five is more likely than three, but whatever makes sense at the time) of the Old Testament per day, reading straight through, skipping Psalms (on account of I’ve already read it by the time I get to it) and perhaps Proverbs (on account of I finished Psalms and Proverbs is next).
- One day per week, which will be decided on later (I’m going to say Tuesday for now), read five chapters of the New Testament. Why not one chapter per day in addition to the OT? Well, because the NT is downright boring to read one chapter at a time. The Epistles, in particular, just should not be read a chapter at a time. You lose the whole flow of them.
(You could do three chapters of the OT, one in the NT if you want. Don’t let my absolute statements throw you off, even if I’m absolutely right.)
Generally I finish in late November by following this plan. The really great part about reading the Psalms one at a time is twofold:
- Psalms shouldn’t be read in big chunks. How can you meditate on something you’re flying through? They should be read individually in order to be fully appreciated. (Though I’ll admit that I get impatient to finish Psalms and double-up or triple-up on the last few dozen of them, on account of their being shortish. Lousy spell-check again!)
- By the time you finish Psalms, you’ve pulled ahead of your church’s read-through by several weeks. Alternatively, you’ve just built in several weeks of “I got bogged down in (round up the usual suspects here)” catch-up time.
So much for this being a quick post. But it’s the end of the year, and this way maybe I’ll inspire a couple of non-read-throughers (spell-check!) to sally forth and kick some serious Bible-reading booty next year.
(Seriously, if you haven’t read through at least once, you really owe it to yourself. And it gets easier every year. And if you’re a Dad, do you really want, when your child asks you a tough Bible question, to say, “Ask your mother.”? Didn’t think so. So man up and read that thing! And do it in the morning. Get up early if you have to. If you try for night-reading, it won’t happen. Trust me on this.)
(And if you honestly don’t think you’re up to a full read-through, at least do the New Testament. It’s really ridiculously easy. One. Chapter. Per. Day. Not challenging. Do it!)
(Too many parentheticals? I can never tell?)
Right, so wasn’t I going to write about 3 John? Jude, even? I’m already 750 words in and now I’m getting to today’s topic? Feel free to bail if you need to.
(At this point I’ve let this post sit for about a week and a half, and now I’m finding that I have no idea what I was going to write about the two little J’s.)
So, what to write about 3 John? Well, something that everyone might not notice is that the letter is apparently from “The Elder.” Historically, this was thought to be just John using a different title for himself, and a fitting one at that given that this book is generally accepted to have been written when John was in his eighties or nineties.
But there’s another school of thought that says “The Elder” referred to another John in Ephesus, who compiled and published John’s Gospel (adding a few bits here and there, particularly Chapter 21), and wrote the Johannine Letters and Revelation.
(I think there’s a good argument to be made about John 21 having been written by another author, but I’ll leave it until another time.)
Of course, none of this is unique to 3 John. It’s a very short book, one of the shortest in the Bible, only slightly longer than 2 John. In both 1 and 2 John, mention is made of antichrists, being those who deny that Jesus came in the flesh. In 3 John, a different kind of Bad Guy is mentioned, the kind who loves to have authority in the Church.
There are quite a few Bad Guys mentioned in the New Testament, among them:
- Hymenaeus and Alexander (1 Tim 1:20 and 2 Tim 4:14)
- Hymenaeus and Philetus (2 Tim 2:17)
- Diotrephes (3 John 9)
Interestingly, John follows up the mention of Diotrephes with a mention of Confirmed Good Guy Demetrius. Nice balance there, eh?
On the subject of Bad Guys, Jude makes mention of a group of false teachers. And then he insults them. Over and over. The letter was already a short one, but it could’ve been much shorter had he not decided to compare the false teachers to the following:
- Unthinking animals
- Balaam, deceiving people for pay
- Korah, perishing in their rebellion
- Dangerous reefs that can shipwreck the godly
- Shameless shepherds who care only for themselves
- Clouds blowing overhead without giving rain
- Autumn trees, doubly dead, bearing no fruit and uprooted
- Wild waves on the sea
- Wandering stars
Well, I’ve officially used up all my words for the year now, and I think that’s a wrap for my final post. I’ll certainly look to finish out any Bible books I’ve still missed next year. The list is much shorter now, comprising only:
- Ruth
- 1 Kings
- 2 Chronicles
- Esther
- Song of Songs
Looks like somewhere around April I’ll be starting up with these. So again, lob me any questions/ideas you might have for topics. I’ve got next week lined up already, and then I’m wide open.
I wish you a Blessed and Happy New Year!