This past weekend Pastor Charles Leiter came to preach at Immanuel Baptist Church in Louisville.

Leiter is a godly man whose love for the Church, Christ, the Word, and the lost are evident.

He had a Saturday morning discussion of a book he has written called “Justification and Regeneration” (free PDF of it here).

I have heard a wide range of opinions about this book. Some have noted how it has been greatly influential in their perception of their new identity in Christ. Others have said it is a dangerous book that should be avoided.

My hope is that this review will provide some clarifications, while also affirming a good emphasis of the book.

But a few words before I begin. I will avoid the debate on Romans 7. The passage is so disputed, very little is accomplished by working through it. Other reviews I have found did not critique the book very much, although Ortlund hinted that he would agree with my reservations. (Tim Challies, Nathan Pitchford,  and Dane Ortlund)

Finally, I am open to sharpening on this issue. I would love to be challenged as I think through these topics. By no means am saying I have the final word on this. I do hope you find this helpful.

Summary

The book is mainly about regeneration. The first three chapters are on sin as man’s ultimate problem, the holiness of God and how men can get right with God, and then justification and its characteristics. The rest of the book is about regeneration. He divides the chapters with biblical descriptions of the “newness” of regeneration: a new creation, new man, new heart, new birth, and a new nature. The Bible also describes it as a crucifixion and resurrection. He then describes the change of realms: from flesh to Spirit, from earth to heaven, from sin to righteousness, from law to grace, from Adam to Christ.

The book is very accessible and clear on topics that can easily lose readers because of their depth. The chapters are short, and the titles well suited to each chapter, making it an easy read.

Our New Identity

Positively, this book is a good corrective to easy believism, carnal Christianity, and defeatist mindsets in Christian circles.

Leiter rightly saw people claiming to be Christians without a changed life and went to the Scriptures and saw that when someone is converted they are “new.” They cannot continue to live in sin for Christians have been crucified with Christ. Christians cannot live a life with no growth, for growth shows life. And Christians are alive in Christ Jesus.

In addition Leiter helpfully responds to Christian who think sin has defeated them. He gives them hope by pointing to who they are now in Christ Jesus. The Spirit now lives in them, they have a new heart, and a new nature so they can fight their sin with confidence that God will give them victory.

All this provides a needed emphasis on our new identity in Christ. Christians have for too long been introspective, considering themselves as wretched and worthless, a form of “worm Christianity.” But in the New Testament, the emphasis seems to be on the new identity we have in Christ. Paul never writes to the “wretches” in Corinth, but the saints in Corinth. Even if one thinks (unlike Leiter) that there is still a struggle between the old man and the new man, they must admit that the emphasis lies on our newness and not on our former manner of life.

These are all helpful correctives presented in an accessible way.

Concerns

Although I will spend most of my time on critiques and clarifications, this is not because I think the book is largely in error. I would happily give this book to another Christian although I would mention that my views differ slightly from Leiter’s on the complexity of the issue.

These concerns can be categorized under three different critiques that all feed into one another. I think if the first block is pulled from the base, then the rest of critiques naturally fall into place.

Flesh

This first critique is on his view of the flesh (σὰρξ). Leiter says the following about the flesh.

• The flesh is the unredeemed physical body viewed as the place where sin still tries to assert itself. (85)
• The flesh is “our body of sin” (Rom 6:6), the body of death (7:24), mortal body (6:12). Sins can actually be spoken of as deeds of the body (8:13).
• The mortal body is where sin still tries to reign. (85)
• The flesh is not who we really are; it is only superficial and a temporary aspect of our total personality and is doomed to pass away. (85)
• The flesh does not represent who the Christian really is. (59)

Flesh can and regularly does mean the physical body. But it means more as well. The term probably began with this specific meaning. But various extensions (as with most terms) caused it to have fresh meanings that are connected with the original meaning, but distinct from it. Louw and Nida give no less than eight distinctive meanings to flesh.[1] Anthony Thiselton says the word is a “polymorphous concept” and its meaning is very much context dependent.

Doug Moo agrees in his article on translating σὰρξ, giving five different categories for Paul’s use of the term.[2]

1. the material that covers the bones of a human or animal body (1 Cor 15:39)
2. the human body as a whole (1 Cor 7:1)
3. the human being generally (1 Cor 1:28-29)
4. human state or condition (1 Cor 10:18) / in distinction from God = neutral
5. human condition in its fallenness (Gal 5:16-17) / in contrast to God = ethical

Flesh, when put opposite to Spirit can signify sinful nature (Gal 5:19; 6:8). Therefore the term is not only external but also internal. It stands not only for our unredeemed physical body, but our unredeemed nature. Moo says, “this sense of sarx is quite common in Paul (anywhere from 25 to 30 occurrences, depending on how one interprets several notoriously difficult texts).”[3] Leiter seems aware of this view but rejects it. He comments on this view in Romans 8:8-9 saying “the NIV replaces ‘flesh’ with ‘controlled by the sinful nature.’ Here Biblical translation has given way to theological fancy.” (91) Leiter has made the mistake of seeing a word used one way in context and then transferring this meaning to every other occurrence (illegitimate totality transfer).

This view is not only problematic contextually, but the implications are also concerning.

First it comes close to a Gnostic understanding of our being. Separating body from soul is not something that the Scriptures seem to condone. We are a complex mixture of the two.

Second, this view gives does not rightly explain some of the works of the flesh. Paul in Galatians 5 speaks of idolatry, enmity, strife, jealousy, anger, and envy. These things are not just part of physical body but stem from our heart and mind.

Third, this view of the flesh does not adequately explain Jesus’ statement in Mark 7:21. Jesus says, “For from within, out of the heart of a man, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery etc.” I asked him about this verse and he asserted that this verse is speaking of non-Christians. But this really does not answer the question. Jesus, even if he speaking to/of non-Christians, is making a statement about human nature.

Where does evil then come from in a Christian? I would say it comes from the heart, and Leiter would say the flesh. But we are again back at our starting point, the definition of flesh. Flesh does not just mean our physical substance but can also be a nature term. Therefore if one sees the flexibility with which Paul uses the term flesh, then the heart is still where this evil comes from. Paul describes it as our flesh, even our fleshly desires, which are opposed to the Spirit.

There is more that could be said on this point, but in summary, I think Leiter has wrongly defined the flesh by externalizing it in every occurrence and separating it from who we are in a way the Scriptures do not.

Over-Realized Anthropology

If this piece is pulled, then the whole edifice needs re-working. For Leiter poses a slightly over-realized anthropology in regards to our new nature. This point must be nuanced for what he affirms is not wrong, it is how he affirms it, and what he denies. He is right to point to verses that suggest this is a done deal. “The old has passed away, the new has come” (2 Cor 5:17-18). We have “laid aside the old self and put on the new self” (Col 3:9-11). The Christian is really and genuinely a new person.

But he emphatically denies that the Christian is both an old man and new man. He says,

• “don’t be convinced you are both good and evil.” (58)
• “The Christian is no longer a sinner, but a saint.” (72)
• The Bible never represents our old man as alive – whether kicking and struggling on the cross or hiding somewhere within us. The old man is dead, buried, gone forever. “I have been crucified with Christ, it is I who no longer lives.” (84)

But if my understanding flesh is correct then it is more complex than this. The flesh is crucified, but we still struggle against it. We are new, but sinful desires still overtake us. Whether it is best to describe this as the old man as alive or not can be debated. But Ephesians 4:22 does command us, “to put off your old self, which belongs to your former manner of life…and to put on the new self.” Paul says there is still a real struggle with the old man.

Therefore to say that Christians are no longer evil but good should give us pause. Historically the dominant view has been opposed to what Leiter is writing. Luther said the Christian is “simul iustus et peccator” (simultaneously a sinner and saint). Calvin agreed, as did Augustine.

And although it can be a helpful corrective, it does not take a wide view of the Scriptures. Consider the situations Paul is writing to. The saints in the Corinth are suing one another, arguing, having sex with the temple prostitutes, and living ascetic lives contrary to scripture. The Galatians are on the verge of abandoning the Gospel. The Thessalonians are waiting for the coming of the Lord and not working. These saints are really new but they still struggle mightily with sin.

Additionally it should give us pause because it does not do justice to most Christian experience. Throughout history Christians have fallen in various ways. Leiter does not deny this, but is he explaining our experience adequately?

Unintended Consequences

Finally, this emphasis could lead to a devaluing of the cross (although it does not have to). The counseling imperative in this book is “become who you are.” And this is right and good, and found in the Scriptures. However, there could be cases where a Christian struggling with sin is simply told “become who you are” and is not told to run to the cross where all these sins are paid for.  “Become who you are” means nothing without placing it in the backdrop of the cross. A counselor’s default advice should be focused on the focal point of Scripture, the cross. Grace compels people.

With the former advice, struggling sensitive Christians could start to convince themselves that they are not believers at all. Ironically, the reaction to defeatist Christianity could produce defeatist Christianity. Admittedly, Leiter never advocates any of this, never devalues the cross, and that is not his intention. However when analyzing a work we must be attuned to unintended consequences and implications that may follow.

Summary

Leiter challenged me when I read the book. I too noticed how little the NT speaks of the old man. He is right that the emphasis is on our new identity in Christ. But I think he has misunderstood the flesh, and consequently has presented a reality within our hearts that is too neat, and not as complex as the Scriptures convey.

This book has been helpful to many Christians and I do not want to take that away from them. But there are edges in the book that need the smoothing of Scripture.

Johannes Weiss, Jesus’ Proclamation of the Kingdom of God. trans by. Richard Hiers and D. Holland; Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1971. 148pp.

Introduction

Johannes Weiss’ book Die Predigt Jesu von Reiche Gottes (Jesus’ Proclamation of the Kingdom of God) was published in 1892. ^[1] In it Weiss put forward one of the first arguments for a thoroughly eschatological nature of the kingdom. Although an eschatological view of the kingdom is taken for granted today, it was not so in Weiss’ day.[2] Weiss’ view sharply contrasted the dominating thought about the KOG at the time. Ritschl, and most scholars of the day, understood the kingdom primarily as ethical in character. Ritschl said:

The kingdom of God consists of those who believe in Christ, inasmuch as they treat one another with love without regard to differences of sex, rank or race, thereby bringing about a fellowship of moral attitude and moral properties extending through the whole range of human life in every possible variation.

Weiss waited three years until after Ritschl’s death to publish this book, because he was the son-in-law and student of Albert Ritschl. As Dunn says, “[Ritchl’s] optimistic complacency was shattered by his own son-in-law.” who insisted that the kingdom be understood against the backdrop of interestamental Jewish apocalypses in which there was a sharp discontinuity between the present age and the age to come.[3] For Weiss the kingdom was wholly dependent upon divine intervention. This book was a turning point from the nineteenth to the twentieth century New Testament research, although the editors note that it has strangely been neglected by British and American New Testament scholars.[4] Albert Schweitzer came to the same eschatological conclusions as Weiss in his Skizze des Lebens Jesu (Sketch of the Life of Jesus; 1901) although he had not read either edition of Weiss’ work.

Summary[5]

Weiss begins by emphasizing that dogmatics sometimes has a tendency to “strip concepts of their original historical character” (59), therefore he wants to reexamine the concept KOG. He informs the readers that he will not use John as a source, nor a couple of late passages in Matthew (13:24-30, 36-43, 47-50; 25:31-46), nor the phrase ἡ βασιλεία τῶν οὐρανῶν. He also discounts a few of parables, because the connection with the KOG is “loose” and in many cases the evangelists abandon that formula altogether (64).

Weiss concedes that we find there are statements about the rule of God already actualized, but he asks in what sense did Jesus speak of a present βασιλεία τοῦ Θεοῦ? He says Matt 21:31 and 11:1 give little support to a present kingdom. For when it says tax collectors and prostitutes precede the people into the kingdom it only means they are ahead of them in that they set a good example (72). The parables used to support a present Kingdom are also not clear according to Weiss (the mustard seed and leaven). Most forcefully, Jesus said in the Lord’s prayer that his disciples were to repeat ἐλθέτω ἡ βασιλεία σου. For the disciples the kingdom is not yet here (73). This same perspective is confirmed by Jesus at the Last Supper. For he says he will not drink the fruit of the vine until the KOG has come. This shows how little Jesus thought of himself as leaving the KOG behind in the group of his disciples.

Weiss explains two of the most problematic passages for a future orientation of the kingdom, Matt 12:28 and Luke 17:21, by saying Jesus was showing that by his own activity the power of Satan was being broken. Satan’s kingdom is already broken, “the rule of God is already gaining ground; but it has not yet become a historical event” (79). Weiss also rejects that Jesus was the “founder” of the KOG. Rather Jesus is the preparer; driving out the Ruler of this age. He also is the announcer; proclaiming the coming of the KOG. But when did Jesus expect the establishment of the kingdom to occur? Weiss states that Jesus at a certain time believed the coming of the kingdom closer than turned out to be the case. But slowly Jesus became convinced that the end had been postponed (86). The establishment of the kingdom could not take place until the guilt of the people had been removed (87). Therefore he seized upon the idea that his death should be the ransom for people (88).

The establishment of the kingdom would not be in secret, but visible to all (Mk 13). Only God can bring it and it does not grow gradually. According to Weiss, this world cannot assimilate the KOG, for everything must become new (Rev 21:1, 5; 2 Pt 3:10). The kingdom is ushered in by judgment, and this judgment must come prior to the establishment of the kingdom (97). Jesus’ kingdom can be described as a struggle against Satan, which includes the deliverance of the people from their enemies and oppressors (102). The preparation for the kingdom was a summons to turn away from worldliness. Weiss emphasizes a dualistic view of the world where believers do not value things of this age but look forward to a heavenly one. He urges us to take seriously the warning about riches, about the dangers of secularization and serving two masters (108). Jesus’ Kingdom is radically superworldly (114). Unlike John the Baptist, Jesus understood himself to be the “Messiah,” the King of this kingdom. However, according to Weiss, although he thought of himself of a prophet, Jesus was to become the Son of Man. He asserts that many of the Son of Man statements are simply circumlocutions for “I” or “man,” while others are Messianic.

Weiss comes to the conclusion that we cannot dismiss Jesus’ consciousness of the nearness of the kingdom, but that this nearness is not how theologians have generally conceived it. The kingdom is superwordly and eschatological. The dominant idea in Jesus’ proclamation is not the kingdom of ethics, but of a transcendent nature. The kingdom of God also cannot be actualized by human initiative but is entirely God’s initiative. “The only thing man can do about it is to perform the condition required by God” (132).

Interaction

Weiss rightly examines to the Scriptures in response to ethical interpretations of the KOG. The amount of evidence for his thesis is not lacking, when very few were in agreement with Weiss’ argument. He gave scholarship another perspective from which to examine the kingdom texts. He emphasized Jesus’ words in the Lord’s prayer, ἐλθέτω ἡ βασιλεία σου. They were called to “seek the Kingdom” (Mt 6:33; Lk 12:31) but not to inaugurate it. He also highlighted Jesus speaking about not tasting the fruit of the vine at the Last Supper until the kingdom of God comes again. He said that when the Scriptures say the KOG is ἤγγικεν it means that it is so near it stands at the door, but still not here. He is correct that there is an abundance of evidence which points towards a future kingdom. He rightly explains Matt 21:31 saying that rather than communicating a “present” kingdom, this verse says that the tax collectors and prostitutes set a good example of those who will enter the KOG.

Although it is more popular and probably right to argue an already/not yet dimension to the KOG, Weiss’ arguments should be taken into account. His arguments are a helpful reminder even for today to show that in many ways the KOG is eschatological. He also seems to have rightly understood the KOG as a realm in addition to reign (103).[6] It was not simply the reign of God in people’s hearts, or the reign of God in some abstract sense.[7] Rather this reign of God included a realm.[8] And if it is a realm then in a very real sense the KOG is futuristic. Many of the statements about the KOG do not make sense if one understands it only as a reign. Jesus tells them to “seek first the KOG.” This could be metaphorical, in the sense that they are to seek the reign of God in the world, but I think it makes more sense to understand it as seeking the KOG as a place, and this place is entered through a person. Many times the Scriptures speak of “entering” the KOG. Ladd argues that entering this kingdom designates a realm of salvation which is present.[9] So he understands it dynamically. But most naturally they are entering a place. Jesus also regularly speaks of “seeing” the KOG (Mk 9:1, 15:43; Lk 9:27). It seems to be a visible reality. Jesus says there are tables in the KOG (Lk 13:29) and people will be eating bread in the KOG (Lk 14:15). Therefore unless these are all to be taken a metaphorical, the KOG is a realm as well as a reign or rule. Although Norman Perrin does not satisfactorily describe what the kingdom is, I do think he may be on the right track to claim it is symbol with diverse meanings.[10] One description cannot exhaust what the kingdom is, like one description cannot sufficiently define a nation.

This realm aspect corresponds with the importance of land in Israel’s history. Most naturally when early followers of Jesus heard the word “kingdom” they would have understood it as a location. It is true that Jesus came and reoriented many of their previous thoughts about how the promises to Abraham would be realized. However Jesus never explains the KOG in the Gospels, and one would expect that if he did come and radically change their understanding of the KOG one of the Gospel writers would have included this in their report. But this is not the case. The Gospel writers present the KOG without further comment, assuming that people know what it means and what it signifies.

Another emphasis that Weiss was helpful on was the ethics of the kingdom. He urged radical obedience and that people had to be inwardly transformed and themselves participate in the new creation. In the Gospels Jesus announces the kingdom and then both declares what it looks like to “be” a part of the kingdom and performs kingdom deeds.

But like many reactions, Weiss may have overacted in the sense that he did not satisfactorily explain in what sense the kingdom of God was present. Weiss spent most of his time trying to show both that there are very clear verses which point towards an eschatological kingdom and explaining away verses that speak of a present kingdom. At the beginning of his book he brushes aside a few parables which could go against his thesis. He says that most of parables are not speaking about the KOG because not all the evangelists introduce them in the same way. He also says that he does not doubt that the evangelists wanted us to interpret these parables in light of the contemporary church, but Jesus did not (72). The sense in which the KOG was present according to Weiss was a dualistic understanding of the KOG. Matthew 12:28 and Luke 17:21 meant that Satan’s kingdom was already broken. But this is where Weiss needs to be more specific. What does this communicate about the kingdom, if Satan’s kingdom is already being broken? Is it gaining ground, but not yet a historical event? Jüngel’s explanation of the presence of the kingdom has the right balance.

We have to understand ‘futurist’ not in the sense of delay as distance, but in the sense of a future standing in the present; If the divine sovereignty “projects into the present” as the powerfully operative finger of God, it moves into the present. Indeed, Jüngel states that the future “stands” in the present. In that case the future has become presence-with-future. This is what the text actually implies of the kingdom.[11]

The KOG has become present with a future in the life of Jesus. But we must start with the future of the kingdom, and then move to how and in what way it is present. Pannenberg speaks in similar language when he says, “Our starting point then is the Kingdom of God understood as the eschatological future brought by God himself. Only in the light of this future can we understand man and his history.”[12]

Weiss spends some time discussing Jesus’ relationship to the KOG rejecting that he is the founder and asserting that he is the preparer and the announcer of the KOG. Weiss seems to shy away from describing Jesus as the founder or establisher of the kingdom because it would not fit with his view of the kingdom being futuristic. He does raise an interesting correlation to the Baptist being a preparer of the kingdom and having the same message of Jesus, and therefore they should both be considered preparatory (82). But if Jesus is the ruler of the KOG then when he comes, the KOG comes with him, and this is different than the Baptist. The nature of their proclamation is different because of the nature of their being. Beasley nicely summarizes Jesus’ relationship to the KOG.

Jesus is the Champion of the Kingdom of God (Mk 3:27), the Initiator of the Kingdom (Mt 11:12), the Instrument of the Kingdom (Mt 12:28), the Representative of the Kingdom (Lk 17:20-21), the Mediator of the Kingdom (Mk 2:18), the Bearer of the Kingdom (Mt 11:5), the Revealer of the Kingdom (Mt 13:16-17).[13]

If Jesus is the ruler of the KOG then did his “realm” come with him? Some would argue it did in the Church, but others would say this realm is purely eschatological. I personally am undecided on this point. If it is eschatological though, it makes sense that so few of his disciples understood who he was, because the realm of the KOG was to be delayed. He first had to pay for the guilt of his people.

Weiss rejects that we do anything to usher in the KOG. It does not grow gradually, but rather comes solely on the initiative of God and comes without any warning of visible signs. Therefore for Weiss, the kingdom is not an assignment but a gift. We cannot build, establish, or advance the KOG. George Eldon Ladd agreed and said

The kingdom can draw near to men (Matt. 3:2; 4:17; Mark 1:15; etc.); it can come (Matt. 6:10; Luke 17:20; etc.), arrive (Matt. 12:28), appear (Luke 19:11), be active (Matt. 11:12). God can give the kingdom to men (Matt. 21:43; Luke 12:32), but men do not give the kingdom to one another. Further, God can take the Kingdom away from men (Matt. 21:43), but men do not take it away from one another, although they can prevent others from entering it. Men can enter the kingdom (Matt. 5:20; 7:21; Mark 9:47; 10:23; etc.), but they are never said to erect it or to build it. Men can receive the kingdom (Mark 10:15; Luke 18:17), inherit it (Matt. 25:34), and possess it (Matt. 5:4), but they are never said to establish it. Men can reject the kingdom, i.e., refuse to receive it (Luke 10:11) or enter it (Matt. 23:13), but they cannot destroy it. They can look for it (Luke 23:51), pray for its coming (Matt. 6:10), and seek it (Matt. 6:33; Luke 12:31), but they cannot bring it. Men may be in the kingdom (Matt. 5:19; 8:11; Luke 13:29; etc.), but we are not told that the kingdom grows. Men can do things for the sake of the kingdom (Matt. 19:12; Luke 18:29), but they are not said to act upon the kingdom itself. Men can preach the kingdom (Matt. 10:7; Luke 10:9), but only God can give it to men (Luke 12:32).[14]

Although I applaud the rigorous look at how the Scriptures use the phrase, I wonder if this view accounts for Jesus’ and our relationship to the KOG as his stewards and representatives. If Christ is our representative, and we are his image bearers and stewards, we are to imitate him in proclaiming release from a foreign kingdom. This proclamation must also be accompanied by acts of release from the power of the ruler of the air. In addition, it is hard to argue that there is not growth in the parables on the KOG. Especially when Mark says they bear fruit, “thirtyfold and sixtyfold and a hundredfold” (Mk 4:20). This view of growth does go against Weiss, Schweitzer, and Dodd who think that the gradual growth interpretation is off. Rather for Schweitzer “the immediateness is the note of Jesus’ parables.”[15] The concept of development is not at all brought into prominence, but the exposition is rather about two conditions placed side by side so that one is compelled to raise the question, how can the final stage proceed from the initial stage? This lead Schweitzer to interpret the parables as ”the same God who through is mysterious power in nature brings the harvest to pass will also bring to pass the Kingdom of God.”[16]

Other critiques could be raised of Weiss. Weiss, like Schweitzer, thought that Jesus expected the KOG to come in his lifetime. But the verse that he adduces to support supports this view does have another explanation. In Mark 9:1 Jesus says “some who are standing here will not taste death until they see the KOG after it has come with power.” But this statement in all the Gospels comes before the transfiguration. By putting this phrase before the transfiguration, Jesus is saying they will get a prolpetic vision of what the KOG will be like in the transfiguration. In addition there is a very clear statement in Luke 19:11 where Jesus tells a parable because “they supposed that the KOG was to appear immediately.” Weiss also has some odd views of the Son of Man statements, but it seems that he simply wants to explain how Jesus was going to come again and fulfill the eschatological role of Daniel 7, which supports his eschatological interpretation.

Conclusion

Some of my biases have been evident in this review. I think it is important that before we begin talking of the temporal nature of the KOG, we need to start with descriptions. It is hard looking at the Scriptures to deny that the KOG is the “reign” of God, without having a “realm” aspect. Once a definition is established, movement towards an analysis of the temporal nature of the kingdom can be undertaken. But the temporal nature of the KOG is where many studies major. The Scriptures do speak about the “when” of the kingdom, but only 12 of the 52 references to the KOG in the Gospels explicitly speak of its temporality.[17] The emphasis is on who can enter, and how to describe it. Therefore although the temporality of the KOG how has dominated the debate, I suppose it is time to get past the future/present discussion and move it in a different direction.

My friend Sam Emadi has his review of Michael Bird’s Jesus is the Christ up at TGC.

One day I walked into his office and asked what he was working on and he pointed to the book and said, “You have got to read this.”

That is the best and shortest type of review you need. If you want a longer one here is the link.

Jesus Is the Christ is the companion volume to Bird’s work Are You the One Who Is To Come? The Historical Jesus and the Messianic Question. Whereas that book “focused on the claims of the historical Jesus in his Jewish context,” the present volume explores “Jesus’ messiahship in the narrative and theological horizons of the evangelists” (vii). Thus Jesus Is the Christ attends more closely to the text of the canonical Gospels than did Are You the One Who Is to Come? Fortunately for those unfamiliar with the previous book, Bird provides a helpful digest of its argument in the introductory chapter of this one.

This is a book review I did for a seminar I took on Hebrews this semester. I have cut out the summary because the review is already unnecessarily long. The summary is not as beneficial as it is a collection of essays.

Introduction

The Epistle to the Hebrews and Christian Theology is a collection of papers presented at the second St. Andrews Conference on Scripture and Theology in 2006. The aim of this conference was to bring biblical scholars and systematic theologians together in conversation, a movement otherwise known as Theological Interpretation of Scripture (TIS).

Interaction

The hope in a project like this, as stated in the book, is that theologians and exegetes will combine their skills rather than being in competition with one another. The integration is only partly successful. The differences between biblical scholars, systematicians, and non-biblical scholars are evident. Rarely do they step outside their area of expertise so that the book becomes a mixture of essays that at times are disjointed. Biblical scholars and systematic theologians seem to make up the majority of this book. Because of their strong appearances, those outside these fields seem forced into the conversation. For example, although the scientist John Polkinghorne surely had some interesting things to say, I could not understand a word of quantum physics. He barely touched on Hebrews until the very end of the essay. In a similar way the two essays on Hebrews and Modern World were interesting in their own right and understandable, but were still discordant with the rest of the essays. The impetus to bring systematicians and biblical theologians together is needed, but it seems that the integration needs to be made in each essay rather than simply placing them beside one another.

This is not to say that there is not value in such a book or project. There are a wide range of topics covered, and many very ably. The strength of such a book is that rather than having a sustained argument, one gets different perspectives on the numerous issues that Hebrews raises. In many ways, to read a book like this, will widen ones horizon more than the focused approach that most books are constricted to. This in large part is due to the numerous contributors and their respective interests and expertise. One dives into topics such as, hermeneutics, Christology, the relationship of Judaism and Christianity, cosmology, the use of Leviticus, and salvation. The result is a more holistic view of all that is taking place in the book of Hebrews and an appreciation of the many areas of research that still need to be done.

Highlights

I now move to more detailed engagement with some of the particular essays. First, John Webster was particularly clear in his theological reflection on the relationship between the eternity of Christ’s sonship and the element of “newness” in the event of the heavenly session (91). The author of Hebrews is not troubled by the contrast between the eternal nature and the temporal nature of the duties of the Son. The fact that he has “become” superior and “obtained” an inheritance are not to be taken as something wholly new or connote a lack on his nature, but rather the perfect movement in the being of God-man (93).

Edward Adams’ essay on the cosmology of Hebrews also contained a balanced approach to the influence of Plato and a re-analysis of Plato’s and Hebrews cosmology. Adams points out that Plato “sets out a remarkably positive view of the material world as the excellent product of a good creator-deity” (123). Hebrews likewise does not view the earth in negative terms. Adams points out that even though Hebrews states that the created order will be rolled up (1:10-12) it does not imply that it is inherently evil, but rather it is subordinate to God (136). Still Adams rightly argues the author was not necessarily using Platonic categories. The term “shadow” (σκιᾷ) is certainly Platonic, but that does not necessarily mean he accepted the entire paradigm. For example the word “example” (ὑποδείγματι) is not Platonic. It is odd if the author wanted to evoke the Platonic scheme that he did not use the term μιμημα, the most obvious term for a Platonic copy (133). Adams also notes that on the fate of the cosmos the author of Hebrews is at odds with Plato. Plato argues that the material world will last forever and is immortal and divine. What Adams does not interact with is the view among biblical scholars that the world will not be annihilated but renewed. If the case can be made for renewal, then maybe there are more correlations with Plato’s view of the cosmos than most scholars are saying today. Although Adams spends a good deal of time dealing with Plato, he concludes that the OT is the main source for the author’s cosmological thought.

The essay by Richard Hays provided strong arguments against supersessionism, i.e. that Hebrews represents Judaism as a religion now rejected and replaced by Christianity. Hays affably begins by disagreeing with his “former” self in a statement he made affirming supersessionism. He now asserts a form of Jewish sectarian called “new covenantalism.” Hays rightly notes that in Hebrews “we find both continuity and discontinuity. On the one hand, Israel’s story is continued, reaching a climax in the figure of Jesus…Yet on the other hand, Jesus, as the climactic figure of the story, also introduces a major plot twist…(who) transforms Israel’s identity” (155). Hays provides eight exegetical grounds for newness Two of these include Israel’s entry to the promised land cannot be understood as the final “rest” and that most of Hebrews’ arguments turn on the exegesis of an OT text. Hays approaches 8:13 by saying that the translation of πεπαλαίωκεν as obsolete is slightly more negative than the word suggests. The word can mean “made old”, but one wonders if he is explaining away evidence that does not fit his thesis. It is hard to maintain that the author does not say anything negative about the law, for if perfection had been attainable then it would not have to be changed.  But the law has been changed (μετάθεσις). This change takes place because the law made nothing perfect due to its weakness and uselessness (7:18-19). The language in Hebrews 8:13 suggests that it is a both/and relationship between fulfillment and cancellation. This is supported by the language in 10:9 where he says he “abolishes” (ἀναιρεῖ) the first in order to establish the second. Hays’ response to these verses is to say that when the old covenant system is contrasted unfavorably, “the specific deficiency of the old is described exclusively in terms of the ancient sacrificial cult” (165). However, I think it can be argued that the author uses the sacrificial aspect as a synecdoche (or metonymy) for the entire old covenantal system. In other words, he uses specific parts of the law to stand for the whole. To break apart the law/old covenant system in this way seems forced and unpersuasive.

The relationship between Christianity and Judaism can become overly complicated. But it boils down to whether one wants to stress discontinuity or continuity, both which the author of Hebrews affirms. Hays rightly pushes against the discontinuity position (supersessionism) but maybe errors on the continuity side (new covenantalism). It seems that we need to hold both in the balance without overemphasizing either one. One wonders if the tide is turning against discontinuity partly because of the political correctness of not ostracizing Jews.

Morna Hooker builds on Hays’ argument and argues that Christ was the end of the cult. She continues, “it was not the Christians who had concluded that confession in Jesus as Son of God was incompatible with Jewish beliefs, but the Jewish authorities” (191). She provides an alternate explanation for the book dating it after AD 70. On this reading it was not an admonition directed towards those who were in danger of lapsing into Judaism, but rather a word of encouragement to those who were distressed by the Temple’s recent destruction.

She gives three reasons for a post 70 rather than pre 70’s date. 1) The pre 70 date fails to explain why the author refers to the “tent” rather than the “temple” and why the cult language is taken from Exodus and Leviticus rather than what is on-going 2) If the epistle is written to Diaspora Jews, one wonders how much the temptation to pilgrimage to Jerusalem might have been (190).  3) She asks whether we are thinking rightly about the relationship between Christianity and Judaism because we do not exactly know when the crucial parting of ways took place. In other words the pre 70 date is anachronistic because it treats faith in Jesus as incompatible with Jewish beliefs.

I am not opposed to looking at a post AD 70 date for the book, but some of Hooker’s reasons for this reading can be explained. The last reason, the fact that we do not know when the parting of ways took place between Judaism and Christianity, is the strongest. But the language of σκηνή rather than ἱερόν can be explained by simply pointing out that the author is cutting their system off at the root. The author moves to the establishment of the cult rather than its development. Therefore he goes all the way back to Exodus and Leviticus to show that even at the inauguration of the cult, it was meant to point towards something better.

Daniel Treier and Ken Schenck also point to the speech-act theory as a good way to think about the words of God in Hebrews. “They are performative words that do at the same time they say” (323). This seems to fit well with Hebrews who assumes his speech is itself a form of action and part of God’s word to his people. I think this could be developed further in light of the warnings. The warnings are God’s words to his church both in the early stages of Christianity and to us. These words will not come back void, as the prophet Isaiah says. Either they will effectively warn or damn because the hearers rejected the warnings. A couple of the authors also posit to a pre-critical understanding of Hebrews use of Scripture. Schenck and Trier affirm the author’s use of allegory. Schenck sees it when the author compares the structure of the earthly tabernacle with the two ages of salvation history (332). Treier sees it in 7:1-3 where a city’s name is tied to peace (347). Allegory is a pejorative term to many modern scholars, but these authors are right to look at the use of Scripture more expansively than strict historical correspondence. Schenck and Treier also affirm that the author was also not making the original context of the quotes exclusively determinative (333, 342). This is a good word to those who may overly read an OT context in a NT quote and thereby mute the context and voice of the NT re-appropriation.

Carl Mosser has some wonderful insights in his essay, but over-argues his case. His focus is on Rahab, but he helpfully points out that in chapter 11 the author connects the characters to either what is said previously or subsequently. Thus in order to understand what is happening in Heb 11 we need to pay to attention to the intertextual connections. He gives the example of Abel whose sacrifice was more acceptable to God and the readers are later told to offer sacrifices that will please God (13:15-16). Noah in reverent fear constructed the ark, and later the author tells them to listen to the one warning them about impending judgment (12:25). Abraham is commended for obeying God when he was called to leave his home, and later they are told that here they have no lasting city (13:14).

Mosser points all these out in order to argue that Rahab forms the rhetorical climax and high point of Hebrews 11. He gives rhetorical arguments such as the pattern before Rahab would naturally point to Joshua being next, but “the great captain of the conquest has been deliberately passed over. A Canaanite prostitute stands in his place” (394). In addition right after Rahab, the “by faith” pattern ends with a question: “And what more shall I say?” This device draws attention to the preceding text and makes it stand out. The author then goes into a rapid survey of figures and Mosser describes this structure as climbing up the mountain to Rahab, and then quickly running down (394). Mosser rejects the usual interpretative significance of Rahab and argues that she is a model of “going outside the camp” because of the same language used in Joshua 6:23-24. Rahab is placed outside the camp and her city is burned with its inhabitants. Her city was not a lasting city and the parallels with Joshua 6 and Heb 13:13-14 are deliberate. Mosser concludes “Rahab’s example was important because she did precisely what readers are told to do: she went outside her camp, knowing her city would not endure” (397). Mosser does prove the importance of Rahab, and his analysis of her going outside the camp is convincing. What is not so convincing is that she is the rhetorical climax and high point of Hebrews 11.

Conclusion

The book provides a concise snapshot of the theological and exegetical contributions the book of Hebrews raises. One wishes the integration of systematics and biblical exegesis would have been implemented more rigorously in each chapter, and wonders why a few essays were included at all. But the conversation has begun, and maybe because these essays are included in one volume, the dialogue will continue in the commentaries and more recent works on Hebrews. At the very least, it combines two fields that are sometimes unhelpfully and unnecessarily separated.

In Themelios Doug Moo has a good book review of J.R. Daniel Kirk’s book Jesus Have I Loved, But Paul? A Narrative Approach to the Problem of Pauline Christianity.

Moo writes:

However, Kirk’s attempt to rescue Paul from a certain imbalance creates an imbalance of its own. Arguing for a “narrative dynamic” in Paul is popular these days, and no doubt justified to the extent that a grand narrative underlies Paul’s thinking about the significance of Christ. But Paul does not write narratives; he composes arguments that take up the stuff of this narrative. Kirk gives too little attention to specific statements (yes, even “propositions”) in which Paul claims to provide definitive interpretation of this narrative and to specific commands and prohibitions by which Paul seeks to frame the way believers are to live out this narrative.

Dane Ortlund has a good review of Jonathan Pennington’s book Reading the Gospels Wisely. I think he highlights the major strengths (I am glad he pulled out a footnote I also highlighted in my reading) and also kindly raised some questions.

The review is a model of how we should conduct book reviews.

Ortlund concludes the review by saying,

Reading the Gospels Wisely will be most useful to pastors and students. Pastors will grow in understanding how to read the Gospels in a theological-canonical-narratival way that complements (not replaces) the grammatical-historical exegesis with which many will have been trained. Students will be helped especially by the clarity, accessibility, and distillation of so much of the specialized work that has been done on the Gospels over the past few generations.

I closed this book more grateful for and excited about Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. I will read them, Lord willing, with greater understanding, yet also freshly re-sensitized to the great purpose for which the four Gospels exist: transformation into the image of Christ. And surely this is the final measure of whether one is reading the Gospels wisely.

World has chosen Rodney Stark’s The Triumph of Christianity: How the Jesus Movement Became the World’s Largest Religion as their book of the year. I have read some of Stark’s previous books, and they all have been a combination of good research, interesting perspectives, and superb writing. Olasky writes:

One reason is that Stark, unusual among academic historians, writes well: He was a reporter for the Oakland Tribune and the Denver Post before gaining a Ph.D. (He then taught at the University of Washington for 32 years before heading to Baylor in 2004.) A second reason for honoring Stark is his lifetime of achievement: In 28 books—one from 15 years ago, The Rise of Christianity, prefigures his new work—Stark has employed both statistics and historical testimony to shoot down stereotypes.

I encourage you to pick up this book (it was also on Mohler’s table at T4G).

Jan G. van der Watt has a good review of Blomberg’s A Handbook of New Testament Exegesis.

He finds some of the book helpful, but overall too simplistic. Surely part of the reason for this is because the aim of the book is to be for both specialists and non-specialists (probably more with non-specialists in mind).

Van der Watt says:

Although the book is well-written with clear examples of what is expected, there are some basic problems regarding the presuppositions of the book that should be considered. The authors claim to follow the logic of the exegetical process. Is the logic of the process and the actual application of the process the same? Is it, for instance, possible to make a translation of a text before you have dealt with the grammar or syntax (grammar is discussed in chapter 6, syntax in chapter 8, while translation should apparently logically be done at the beginning—chapter 2)? It also seems more logical to me (since the authors speak of a logical process) to first try to see what the text itself says (grammar and word meaning is needed for this) before one moves to considering all types of scenarios about the social-scientific background.

It is often stated in books on methodology that exegesis is to some extent an “art,” implying, inter alia, that the exegete should be able to enrich the interpretation by integrating and interrelating the information gained from the process as a whole (nearly like a painter integrates colors in a painting). I guess that the authors would not disagree with me on the point that exegesis is not simply going through a checklist sequentially. I know that in Professor Blomberg’s work this is not the case. It is a pity, however, that this point is not enlightened in the book to a larger extent.

A last and perhaps the most critical point is the treatment of hermeneutics in the book. The issue of the theory and problems of understanding is treated in the last chapter (10) under the heading “Application.” Obviously, application of the biblical material to current- day situations is a major hermeneutical issue involving a vast array of problems as well as possibilities. Some of these problems are discussed in this chapter, as was shown above. But the basic question is crucial: Why is it necessary to go through all these often-complicated steps or spend all this time on exegesis? Why should we look at the social or historical background or try to establish the ancient literary form? Why can we not simply trust the Spirit or ask the leadership of the church to tell us what the Bible says, as some Christian groups seem to do? Is the Bible, some could ask, not the Word of God that communicates directly to us today as the unfailing Word of God? Further, what about postmodern insights that all interpretation is relative and the meaning of the text is restricted to what it means to me? Do I really need hours and hours behind a desk with heaps of books to try to determine what the texts means? Moreover, is determining the meaning of a text even possible? These and many other hermeneutical questions influence the way we treat the biblical text, some even before we pick up and read the Bible. What the Bible is for the reader and what one wants to know and how one should approach the Bible are all theoretical (hermeneutical) questions that must be answered before a decision can be made on the methodology to be followed in interpreting the text. Methodology is based on hermeneutics as practice is based in theory. I missed a solid consideration of these theoretical issues in the book.

I just finished my second post-apocalyptic book of the month, Genesis by New Zealand author Bernard Beckett. I plan to make it a dystopian Spring by reading Cormac McCarthy’s The Road next.

The plot revolves around Anaximander, and her examination to get into the Academy, the Republic’s equivalent to a more prestigious Yale and Harvard. Through this examination we learn of the Republic’s History, the Last Great War, and most importantly the controversial figure Adam, who is the specialization of Anax’s research. As the examination proceeds Anax learns things she would have never imagined.

The names in the book are meant to be evocative, Plato, Adam, Eve, Pericles, Anaximander, and even Art. But underneath the story, the dismal future, the artificial intelligence, is the basic question, “What does it mean to be human?”

This ethical dilemma is highlighted primarily through conversations between Adam, and a highly intelligent robot Art, who is so far advanced that he can reason, and even act like a human. Adam believes there is a great divide between them, but cannot seem to win the argument with Art. In a final frustrated monologue Adam says:

I am not a machine. For what can a machine know of the smell of wet grass in the morning, or the sound of a crying baby? I am the feeling of the warm sun against my skin; I am the sensation of a cool wave breaking over me. I am the places I have never seen, yet imagine when my eyes are closed. I am the taste of another’s breath, the color of her hair. You mock me for the shortness of my lifespan, but it is this very fear of dying that breathes life into me. I am the thinker who thinks of thoughts. I am curiosity, I am reason, I am love, and I am hatred. I am indifference. I am the son of a father, who in turn was a father’s son. I am the reason my mother laughed and the reason my mother cried. I am wonder and I am wondrous. Yes, the world may push your buttons as it passes through your circuitry. But the world does not pass through me. It lingers. I am in it and it is is me. I am the means by which the universe has come to know itself. I am the thing no machine can ever make. I am meaning.

However Art always has an answer, and in the end the author makes clear that if this is all just a evolutionary process, there is no difference.

If you enjoy a strong plot with shrewd ethical and philosophical questions, then this is your book.