Greg Beale in A New Testament Biblical Theology (Baker, 2011) —
The Old Testament is the story of God, who progressively reestablishes his eschatological new-creational kingdom out of chaos over a sinful people by his word and Spirit through promise, covenant, and redemption, resulting in worldwide commission to the faithful to advance this kingdom and judgment (defeat or exile) for the unfaithful, unto his glory. (162ff)
J. C. Ryle was a man of the Word.
The first bishop of Liverpool, and subject of John Piper’s biographical message at next week’s Conference for Pastors, wanted his people to read the Scriptures. And we want the same thing, for ourselves and for you.
To help us out, Erik Kowalker recently compiled a list of tips straight from Ryle’s book Practical Religion. Here are eight profitable ways to read the Bible:
For more on these eight ways read the full post.
Read this one at DG.
The Bible comes from God; God doesn’t come from the Bible.
Our knowledge of God is a different story. What we know about God, definitively and redemptively, comes from the Bible. And that is, the Bible that comes from God, who himself comes from nothing.
These are the foundational pieces to understanding the doctrine of revelation, and therefore, the doctrine of Scripture. God, utterly independent and essentially revelatory, has made himself known. This is stunning. And it helps to read the Bible with it in view.
D. A. Carson writes,
To approach the Bible correctly it is important to know something of the God who stands behind it. God is both transcendent (i.e., he is “above” space and time) and personal. He is the sovereign and all-powerful Creator to whom the entire universe owes its existence, yet he is the God who graciously condescends to interact with human beings whom he has himself formed in his own image.
Because we are locked in time and space, God meets us here; he is the personal God who interacts with other persons, persons he has made to glorify him and to enjoy him forever. . . .
The point to emphasize is that a genuinely Christian understanding of the Bible presupposes the God of the Bible, a God who makes himself known in a wide diversity of ways so that human beings may know the purpose for which they were made — to know and love and worship God, and so delight in that relationship that God is glorified while they receive the matchless benefit of becoming all that God wants them to be.
“Approaching the Bible,” Collected Writings on Scripture, (Wheaton: Crossway, 2010), 19–21.
Read at DG.
A Song of Ascents
Woe to me, that I sojourn in Meshech, that I dwell among the tents of Kedar! (Psalms 120:5)
The first “Song of Ascents” tells us Israel is in exile.
Glance through the surrounding pages to see this same superscript is repeated. In fact, Psalms 120–134 are all introduced “A Song of Ascents.” Understood in its context, this refers to Israel’s “coming up” out of Babylonian captivity. As each psalm shows us a little more we begin to see the journey from exile to Jerusalem.
Psalm 121 reminds us that the Lord is our keeper, he’ll keep our going out and coming in (verse 8). Psalm 122 directs us to a restored Jerusalem as our hope and prayer (verse 5). And a “restored Jerusalem” is a Jerusalem under the kingship of Messiah (verse 6). Then Psalm 123 defines our hope — “our eyes look to the Lord our God.” (verse 2). The Lord
alone is our salvation. And Psalm 124 assures us of this by recounting Israel’s deliverance from Egypt (verses 1–5). Psalm 125 interjects a vision of Jerusalem once more. Mount Zion (Jerusalem) is the picture of one who trusts in the Lord. This person, like Jerusalem, will not be moved but abides forever. Psalm 126 longs for this reality, “Restore our fortunes, O Lord!” (verse 4).
But wait. Right now we’re in Meschech. Reading Psalm 120 puts us surrounded by the tents of Kedar. Where they hate peace.
And as it was with the psalmist so it is with us, the readers. “We mourn in lonely exile here.” But it’s not lonely because the Son of God has come. He came and lived and suffered and died and was buried, then raised and ascended and enthroned. That’s when he sent the Spirit, the Helper, who indwells us now as a guarantee and validates our sonship by his witness (John 14:15–17; Ephesians 1:14; Romans 8:16).
So we’re not lonely, but we are waiting.
Jesus said he’d come back (John 14:3) — we’ve not yet seen his face. Paul said our citizenship is in heaven (Philippians 3:20) — do you read the paper here?
Then Peter gives us (yes, all Christians) a helpful phrase: “elect exiles” (1 Peter 1:1, 17). That’s what we are. We’re exiles. We’re waiting.
And waiting is hard to do. We get the sorrowful part in 2 Corinthians 6:10. It is an age of groaning (Romans 8:23). It feels a lot like Meschech.
________
A Song of Ascents. Of Solomon
Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord . . . (Psalm 127:3)
So Israel is in exile, but there is hope. Our eyes look to the Lord our God, till he has mercy upon us (Psalm 123:2). These are the “Songs of Ascents” after all. Israel is coming up out of her captivity. We are headed to a restored Jerusalem.
From exile to a restored Jerusalem. We’ve seen this idea by the time we come to Psalm 127 and now it get’s a little clearer. Exactly how is this movement going to happen? How will we go from here to there?
Let’s talk about children.
This moving from here to there is only going to happen if the Lord himself does it. All our waiting is vain unless he shows up. And children are a heritage from the Lord. The sudden shift to children is no accident. The psalmist is refining our hope. The restored Jerusalem and the Lord‘s work are associated with the blessing of children.
But it’s not just any children. Not at this point in the story, not in this “drama of the Son.” Since Genesis 3:15 we’ve been looking for one born of a woman. Then for the offspring of Abraham (Genesis 12:3). Then for the descendent of David, the Son whose kingdom will be established forever (2 Samuel 7:13). We’re looking for this Son. He’s the locus of our hope.
The superscript is another step to help us see this. This psalm in the Songs of Ascents has an additional line. “A Song of Ascents. Of Solomon.” Solomon? Yes. A son of David. The psalmist wants us to know that all our waiting is targeted on this Son. So the line about Solomon makes us think “David’s son” and, perhaps, it also means to put Solomon in the same place as us. Maybe he knows (like we find out in 1 Kings) that he’s not the promised one.
We begin to hear the message: Solomon has come and gone . . . and we’re still looking for the Son.
And while we, after the Nativity, are not so much looking for the Son, we are looking to him. Jerusalem is not yet new and we know the only way it will be is by this One.
________
A Song of Ascents
There I will make a horn to sprout for David; I have prepared a lamp for my anointed. (Psalm 132:17)
Psalm 132 is the longest and clearest of the Songs of Ascents. As we’ve seen in the earlier psalms, we are coming up out of exile in hopes of a restored Jerusalem. Psalm 132 tells us why this Jerusalem is so special: it is the place of God’s dwelling and the throne of his anointed.
Two concepts come together in this city: the Lord‘s presence (the ark) and the Lord‘s reign (Davidic kingship). This is what makes it the zip code of our dreams. These two things. The place where God dwells. Where his presence is known. Where his nearness is felt. And the domain of his power. The execution of his authority. The government of his righteousness.
The psalmist is looking for this place. He wants to go there. Then in the fullness of time, in a person, God sends it all here. The presence and kingship come in a baby. A horn sprouts for David. Jesus is God with us (Matthew 1:22–23). And Jesus is the King (Matthew 2:5–6) — both of Israel and the nations (Matthew 2:11).
Don’t miss it, though. Psalm 132 isn’t really fulfilled in the Gospels. It’s more like a bullet straight to Revelation 21. The picture here is post-Golgotha. This horn of David will see his enemies clothed in shame (Psalm 132:18). He won’t be wearing a crown of thorns then.
And I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb [the descendant of David]. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb . (Revelation 21:22–23; 22:16)
No longer will there by anything accursed, but the throne of God and of the Lamb will be in it, and his servants will worship him. (Revelation 21:3)
Here is the vision of ultimate Christmas merriment.
We know that Jesus has come and that he will come again. Christmas is the time to celebrate his birth and long for his return.
Originally posted at Desiring God.
1 Kings 18 moves me. It’s almost like your there on Mount Carmel, watching this whole thing take place. And most of the time you spend watching the showdown isn’t of the Lord‘s great answer to Elijah. The fire from heaven, the offering consumed, the people on their faces — this didn’t take that long. It wasn’t dragged out. It was short and explosive.
Most of your time is spent watching these prophets of Baal. These poor prophets of Baal. It is a sad sight. These guys are mutilating their bodies just to get a peep from their god.
Hours go by.
Hours.
And there’s nothing. Not a word. . . .
And they cried aloud and cut themselves after their custom with swords and lances, until the blood gushed out upon them. And as midday passed, they raved on until the time of the offering of the oblation, but there was no voice. No one answered; no one paid attention. (1 Kings 18:28–29)
450 prophets of Baal, weeping and pleading, wounds all over their bodies, blood gushing out, exhausted and limping around an altar, hoping for Baal to show himself. Could it ever get any more gruesome that this? Imagine it. Seriously. Could there ever be a scene more horrible than this?
Yes.
The only scene more gruesome than a crowd of people limping around an altar, wounded all over their body with blood gushing out, begging to see a god who doesn’t exist is this: the true God of the universe hanging on a cross, wounded all over his body with blood gushing out, showing his love to a people who don’t care.
The prophets of Baal begged their god, “Answer us!” “Say something!” “At least a gesture!” “Please, anything!”
And the true God showed his love for us in that while we were sinners, Christ died for us. We didn’t ask him for that. We were sinners who didn’t care anything about God, we worshipped ourselves, we were dead in our sins. And it was precisely then that God showed himself. It was while we were still weak, at the right time, that Christ died for the ungodly.
Praise him.
[This post is adapted from an earlier version at the Desiring God blog]
All notes, at least at some point, are from John Sailhamer’s NIV Compact Commentary.
This video from Jeff Vanderstelt is helpful. It is “uncomfortably biblical” — taking serious Paul’s instructions in 1 Timothy 3:2 and Titus 1:8. It is what I need.
Father, make us so tethered to your Word and consumed by your grace that hospitality is not a hard thing ‘to do,’ but rather an overflow of what it means to be holy in Christ. Fulfill our every resolve for good and every work of faith by your power, for your glory. Amen.
John Piper has some excellent advice on the importance of the preacher’s tone:
So I ask again: What tone should you aim at in preaching?
My answer is: Pursue the tone of the text. But let it be informed, not muted, by the tonal balance of Jesus and the apostles and by the gospel of grace.
Read the whole post at Desiring God, What Tone Should Preachers Aim At?.
This is one of the most amazing things that I have ever seen, and probably will ever see.
(HT: JT)
