I’ve made a page listing all the “Context Matters” posts I’ve written so far. You can find it here, or navigate to it from the menu anytime (OIA Method > Examples > Context Matters). I will keep this updated as I add new posts to the series.
Context Matters: Valley of Dry Bones
Perhaps you’ve heard of Ezekiel’s vision in the valley of dry bones, where the Spirit of the Lord sets Ezekiel down and commands him to prophesy over the bones, and to the breath, so they might live. After a rattling sound, bone comes together with bone, flesh appears, and the dead come back to life, an exceedingly great army. You may have heard this story read from Ezek 37:1-10, with its accompanying interpretation: You are the dead ones, brought out of your sin and misery because of God’s Spirit giving you faith in Jesus Christ. Seems clear, right? Perhaps not so much.
Context matters. If we learn to read the Bible for what it is—and not as a collection of independently assembled inspirational stories—we’ll discover that some of our most familiar passages don’t actually mean what we’ve always assumed.
Caitlin Tobias (2014), Creative Commons
Remember What You’re Reading
We’re helped here by the historical context. The prophet Ezekiel was living in Babylon with the early Jewish exiles (Ezek 1:1). These people had been carried off before the nation of Judah’s final fall to Nebuchadnezzar. Ezekiel spoke of God’s glory departing the temple in Jerusalem (Ezek 10:1-22) and going to reside in exile with God’s people (Ezek 1:1-28).
Ezekiel prophesied to a broken people, who were devastated by the Babylonian conquest and captivity. They were too crushed even to admit that their own idolatry had caused this turn of events. Therefore they persistently resisted Ezekiel’s message (Ezek 3:7-11).
And to these defeated, exiled people, Ezekiel promises a coming day (Ezek 36:22-32). A day when God will vindicate the holiness of his name (Ezek 36:22-23). A day when he will sprinkle them with water to cleanse them from the filth of their idolatry (Ezek 36:25). A day when he will give them new hearts of flesh to replace their dead hearts of stone (Ezek 36:26). A day when he will put his own Spirit within them and enable them to obey him (Ezek 36:27).
Ezekiel leaves no doubt about when this day will come. It is the day when “I will take you from the nations…and bring you into your own land” (Ezek 36:24). The day when they “shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers” (Ezek 36:28).
The exiled people, dead in their idolatry, will be raised to new life when God restores them back to their land.
Read a Little Further
We’re also helped by the immediate literary context. It’s all too easy for us to read only Ezek 37:1-10, because it feels like it could have been written to us. But the next few verses remind us that, though this may have been written for us (1 Cor 10:11), it was not written to us:
Then he said to me, “Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel. Behold, they say, ‘Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are indeed cut off.’ Therefore prophesy, and say to them, Thus says the Lord God: Behold, I will open your graves and raise you from your graves, O my people. And I will bring you into the land of Israel. And you shall know that I am the Lord, when I open your graves, and raise you from your graves, O my people. And I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you in your own land. Then you shall know that I am the Lord; I have spoken, and I will do it, declares the Lord.” (Ezek 37:11-14)
The Lord himself makes the interpretation clear to Ezekiel. There is no reason for us to be unclear on this ourselves. The dead bones coming back to life are a picture of the exiled people being brought back into the land of Israel, placed in their own land. A people without hope are resurrected to new hope.
Reflect on the New Covenant
Some might ask: “But doesn’t all that simply find greater fulfillment in the new covenant, when those dead in sin believe on Christ and are raised to new life?” And I would say: “Yes! Of course!”
But look at what we miss if we ignore the context of Ezekiel and jump right to today.
- The restoration after the exile was no minor blip on the timeline of God’s redemptive purposes. It warrants further theological reflection as the resurrection of God’s people.
- This means that the death and the resurrection of God’s people have significant corporate implications. These things are not only for individual believers, but also for the entire body of God’s people.
- This explains why the disciples were so baffled when Jesus took this key Old Testament idea of death and resurrection, and applied it to himself, an individual (Mark 9:9-10).
- We, too should expect some corporate implications today from our “death and resurrection” as those who are “in Christ.” For example, Ephesians 2:1-10 summarizes the theology of the Christian’s death and resurrection in Christ. But Ephesians 2:11-22 goes on to unfold the corporate implications of this theology in the community life of the church. Paul had far more in mind than the salvation of individuals.
Even if our intentions are good, let’s not miss what God has communicated about himself and his rescue of us.
Context matters.
For more “context matters” posts, such as the widow’s mite, the faith hall of fame, chief of sinners, and quick to listen, slow to speak—click here.
Reflecting on the Shortest Psalm
Gentle Reformation has a stimulating post with “Ten Short Truths About the Shortest Psalm.” The post gives much of the historical and biblical context for this psalm to help us understand it better. Though Psalm 117 has only 2 verses, much of the Bible’s teaching is contained within.
Context Matters: Moses’ Shining Face
Perhaps you’ve heard of how Moses covered his shining face with a veil so people couldn’t see the blazing glory emanating from it. And perhaps you’ve also heard of the veil that now lies over people’s hearts that prevents them from being able to see Jesus in the Old Testament Scripture. These well-intentioned lessons might feel personal and impactful, but they have little to do with what the text of Scripture says.
Context matters. If we learn to read the Bible for what it is—and not as a collection of independently assembled inspirational stories—we’ll discover that some of our most familiar passages don’t actually mean what we’ve always assumed.
Yu-cheng Hsiao (2009), Creative Commons
Exodus 34
To set us straight with Exodus 34, we don’t need the context; we just need to observe more carefully:
As he came down from the mountain, Moses did not know that the skin of his face shone because he had been talking with God. Aaron and all the people of Israel saw Moses, and behold, the skin of his face shone, and they were afraid to come near him. But Moses called to them, and Aaron and all the leaders of the congregation returned to him, and Moses talked with them. Afterward all the people of Israel came near, and he commanded them all that the Lord had spoken with him in Mount Sinai. And when Moses had finished speaking with them, he put a veil over his face.
Whenever Moses went in before the Lord to speak with him, he would remove the veil, until he came out. And when he came out and told the people of Israel what he was commanded, the people of Israel would see the face of Moses, that the skin of Moses’ face was shining. And Moses would put the veil over his face again, until he went in to speak with him. (Ex 34:29-35)
Perhaps my experience is atypical, but I have often heard people talk about how Moses used the veil to protect people from seeing the glory radiating from his face. But this is not what Exodus says. It says that he allowed them to see the glory when he spoke the words of Yahweh to them. And then he put the veil over his face until the next time he got a recharge from speaking with the Lord within the tent.
2 Corinthians 3
But some will argue that 2 Cor 3 says that Moses used the veil to hide the glory. And that that’s where we get the idea that the veil is a metaphor for people who can’t see Jesus in the Old Testament. A few verses seem to imply these things:
Now if the ministry of death, carved in letters on stone, came with such glory that the Israelites could not gaze at Moses’ face because of its glory… (2 Cor 3:7)
But their minds were hardened. For to this day, when they read the old covenant, that same veil remains unlifted, because only through Christ is it taken away. Yes, to this day whenever Moses is read a veil lies over their hearts. But when one turns to the Lord, the veil is removed. (2 Cor 3:14-16)
Here is where we need help from the context.
First, notice the next clause in verse 7: “the Israelites could not gaze at Moses’ face because of its glory, which was being brought to an end.” Now this could mean that they could not gaze at the glory, and the glory was coming to an end—two separate thoughts. But look at where he goes next.
Second, notice the nature of the old/new contrasts. Old = condemnation; new = righteousness (2 Cor 3:9). Old = glory that became no glory; new = surpassing glory (2 Cor 3:10). Old = glory of what was being brought to an end; new = glory for what is permanent (2 Cor 3:11). These contrasts are getting at the superior glory of the new covenant. But that glory is superior primarily because it has no end. It is permanent. It will not fade.
Third, notice Paul’s clarification of what the Israelites saw. His point is not that they saw only a veil and not the glorious face of Moses. His point is that they “might not gaze at the outcome of what was being brought to an end” (2 Cor 3:13). In other words, Moses’ veil was never about hiding the glory from the people. It was all about hiding the fact that the glory was fading.
And by contrast, what we have in the new covenant is something permanent. Something unsurpassed. Something that will never fade, but will instead transform its subjects “from one degree of glory to another” (2 Cor 3:18).
The Argument
I covered this in my Bible study of Exodus 34:29-35, but the train of thought is worth repeating here.
Paul uses this episode from Exodus to make a profound point about the glory of the New Covenant in Christ (2 Cor 3:1-4:18). If we assume that Moses’ veil was covering the glory itself (when it was actually concealing the fact that the glory was fading), we miss Paul’s point. Paul’s argument:
- The people he ministers to are themselves the proof of Paul’s recommendation from Christ (2 Cor 3:1-3).
- His sufficiency as a minister of the new covenant comes from Christ who makes him sufficient (2 Cor 3:4-6).
- While Moses’ ministry had a blazing, terrifying glory, it was always a fading glory (“the Israelites could not gaze at Moses’ face because of its glory, which was being brought to an end” – 2 Cor 3:7-11).
- Therefore, Paul is not like Moses, who tried to conceal the fact that his glory was fading (“Moses…put a veil over his face so that the Israelites might not gaze at the outcome of what was being brought to an end” – 2 Cor 3:12-13).
- Even today, the Jews fail to see the temporary, fading nature of the Old Covenant when it’s read to them (2 Cor 3:14-15).
- But when they turn to Christ, they finally see the Old Covenant for the fading and temporary thing it is. They behold the Lord’s face and become perpetually and increasingly glorious (2 Cor 3:16-18).
- This is why the people, whose reflection of Christ’s glory never fades but always brightens, are themselves the proof of Paul’s qualification for ministering this superior covenant (2 Cor 3:1-3, 4:1-15).
- This gives Paul tremendous courage to persevere when ministry is hard (2 Cor 4:16-18).
Conclusion
The veil conceals the fact that the glory of the old covenant is, and always has been, fading. Only by gazing on the unfading—no, the ever-increasing—glory of Jesus Christ through his Spirit, can the veil be lifted and people finally see the old covenant for what it is (fading).
Context matters.
For more examples of why context matters, click here.
The Problem With Bible Reading Plans
Writing for the blog of Southern Seminary, Joseph C. Harrod describes one common approach to Bible reading plans: reading one chapter at a time from different parts of the Bible. One famous reading plan does one chapter a day from Genesis, one from Ezra, one from Matthew, and one from Acts—then moving on from there each day through the Bible.
I have followed such a reading plan from a lectionary, for many years. I use this in addition to my annual read-through, as well as ongoing voluminous reading of whatever book I’m studying at the time (currently Isaiah). One benefit of the “various chapters” reading plan is that it keeps the whole of Scripture in the forefront.
But I’ve also seen a drawback to such reading plans: They train you to think only in chapter-long chunks, where you can easily miss the context of whole books. And Harrod identifies another drawback I hadn’t thought of: Such plans train you to think it takes a very long time to read through books. So, for example, Genesis takes almost 2 months (50 days) to get through, when, in fact, if you read only Genesis, you could finish it in 3.5 hours.
Harrod shows how even the longest books of the Bible can be read in about the same amount of time we’d take to watch an epic film or a sporting event. It’s worth devouring these books in one or two sittings. Harrod has some helpful insights in this first article on the problem with most Bible reading plans, and in a second article, he shows how you can read half the Bible in 30 minutes!
Context Matters: Chief of Sinners
Perhaps you’ve heard Christian leaders refer to themselves as the “chief of sinners.” Perhaps you’ve even said this about yourself. You might know the phrase comes from 1 Tim 1:15 KJV. Modern translations typically use “foremost” (1 Tim 1:15 ESV, 1 Tim 1:15 NASB) or “worst” (1 Tim 1:15 NIV, 1 Tim 1:15 CSB) instead of “chief.” I have no concern with the exact translation, but I often wonder if those using the phrase have taken heed of its context.
Context matters. If we learn to read the Bible for what it is—and not as a collection of independently assembled proverbial sayings—we’ll discover that some of our most familiar passages say something slightly different from what we’ve always assumed.
The Right Track
When people self-apply the label “chief of sinners,” they are not doing gross violence to this verse. Paul introduces the statement with, “The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance” (1 Tim 1:15). This suggests that the phrase was a common saying that people had spoken or heard, and it suggests that Paul was endorsing the truth of it.
Now it’s possible that the “trustworthy saying” was just the first part (“Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners”), and that Paul appended his own comment (“of whom I am the foremost”) to it. Or the entire statement could be the “trustworthy saying.” We’re not sure, because ancient Greek manuscripts didn’t have quotation marks to signal which part Paul was quoting, and which part was his own reflection.
But we can still confidently say that when Christians use the “chief of sinners/foremost sinner” language, they are honoring Paul’s wishes that this statement is “deserving of full acceptance.” This could be an appropriate view for children of God to take of themselves, as they become increasingly aware of the depth of their indwelling sin, and as long as it’s not merely false humility.
The Argument
But let’s also notice that Paul is making a rhetorical point.
There is a problem in Ephesus with false teachers, teaching “different doctrine” (1 Tim 1:3), speculating on mysteries in the Torah (1 Tim 1:4), and failing to understand the assertions they make so confidently about the law (1 Tim 1:7). They have missed the point of the law: love issuing from a pure heart, a good conscience, and a sincere faith (1 Tim 1:5).
The law, you see, is a very good thing when you use it lawfully. It’s not for the good guys but the bad guys. It addresses whatever is contrary to sound doctrine, and it does so in perfect harmony with the gospel of the glory of the blessed God (1 Tim 1:8-11).
Case in point: Paul’s own testimony. He can think of no example more severe. He thought he was a good guy in God’s world, but in truth he was a blasphemer, persecutor, and insolent opponent (1 Tim 1:12-13a). The law judged him as such, but the grace of our Lord overflowed for him in Christ Jesus (1 Tim 1:13b-14).
Therefore, the saying is trustworthy…Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I [Paul] am the foremost.
But Paul received mercy for one primary reason: so Jesus Christ could display his perfect patience in the chief of sinners. Why would he do this? To make Paul an example to those who were to believe in Jesus for eternal life (1 Tim 1:16). This King of the ages, the only God, deserves all honor and glory forever and ever (1 Tim 1:17).
The Point
Paul never says his readers should think of themselves as the foremost sinners. He clearly says that he himself is the foremost of sinners (“in me, as the foremost, Jesus Christ might display his perfect patience as an example” – 1 Tim 1:16).
The point is that, in context, Paul is saying he occupies a unique place in redemptive history. He’s not using “chief of sinners” language to model self-effacing humility. He’s using it because he is truly hard-pressed to find any worse sinner than he was. Of course it’s a terrible thing to be a tyrannical oppressor and attacker of innocent people. But it’s even more terrible to do so in God’s name, believing yourself to be doing out of obedience to him.
And if King Jesus can rescue a guy like that, applying the law to his sin, and demonstrating perfect patience through the faith and love—he can rescue anybody. Even you. Even me.
By this charge, Timothy, and Christian leaders today, may wage the good warfare (1 Tim 1:18).
Context matters.
Rethinking Our Proof Texts
Mike Leake has some important thoughts about how and when to reconsider the way we use our proof texts. As a young believer, Leake often used Phil 1:6 (“he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion”) to support the doctrine of eternal security. While he hasn’t rejected that doctrine, he has reconsidered his use of Phil 1:6 to support it.
Why? Simply because the context of Philippians 1 strongly suggests this verse is not speaking to that topic.
And why ought we to be willing to do this: to back down from using some of our favorite verses to support our favorite teaching?
First, it matters because truth matters. We cannot be loose with the truth. If we teach a right doctrine but do it the wrong way with the wrong text we are training ourselves and our people that truth is fluid and that the end justifies the means. That will not only have an impact on the way we do theology, it’ll even have an impact on the way we live our lives.
Second, it builds trust. If people know I believe a certain doctrine but see that I’m willing to concede a particular point for the sake of the truth, then it ought to build trust for the places where I’m not willing to concede a point.
The point I’ve been making for weeks now, that context matters, is not about looking superior to other people, being argumentative, or splitting hairs. This is about hearing God’s voice and not confusing it with our own. This is a matter not only of what the Scriptures say, but also of how we know what the Scriptures say.
Leake’s post gives a great example of how to think (and re-think) through these things with a particular text. Check it out!
Why Context Matters
At Stand to Reason, Alan Shlemon explains why it matters so much to consider the context of a Bible verse. After giving an example, where a Christian uses Matthew 18:20 to encourage their small group that Jesus is with them, Shlemon draws the following conclusion:
This might seem benign, but it’s dangerous. In this case, the Christian has concluded that the verse tells him Jesus is with them. You might think, What’s the harm in believing that? In this case, the belief is not incorrect—Jesus is with them—but that verse doesn’t support that belief. The believer has ignored the Holy Spirit’s inspired context and then created his own context, thus changing the meaning of Jesus’ teaching. Now Matthew 18:20 isn’t about church discipline but rather about believing Jesus is with you. That’s not Bible reading. That’s not allowing the Holy Spirit to transform you. That’s not listening to God but listening to yourself and baptizing your faulty interpretation with the authority of God’s Word. If a Christian wants a verse that supports the fact that Jesus is present with him, he can always turn to Matthew 28:20.
So we can arrive at true teaching in the wrong way. But that’s not far from using the same methods of Bible reading to reach entirely false teaching. Let’s not ignore the wishes of Holy Spirit, who inspired these sacred writings.
Shlemon is right. Context matters. Let’s continue retraining ourselves and our people to read the Bible for what it is: not a collection of memory verses, but a collection of books.
Context Matters: Rejoice in the Lord, Don’t be Anxious, the Peace of God, Whatever is True
Perhaps you’ve been told to rejoice in the Lord. And again I will say, rejoice! And maybe you know you shouldn’t be anxious about anything, but should let your requests be made known to God. And you know that the peace of God, which surpasses understanding, will guard your heart and mind in Christ Jesus. And finally, you know that you should think about whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, and about any excellence or anything worthy of praise.
I’m willing to wager you’ve heard each of these statements, and that each of them is meaningful to you on its own. But could there be anything more to these inspirational statements than that they just happen to exist side-by-side near the end of Paul’s letter to the Philippians?
Context matters. If we learn to read the Bible for what it is—and not as a collection of independently assembled proverbial sayings—we’ll discover that some of our most familiar passages don’t actually mean what we’ve always assumed.
Some Vulnerable Honesty
I’m about to propose a way of reading Philippians 4 that I have never heard anywhere else. I’ve never heard a sermon like this. I’ve never seen it in a commentary. I have yet to experience people outside my circles who put these ideas into practice in quite this way.
So perhaps I’m truly on to something, and we all need to remove our blinders on this passage. Or perhaps I’m being foolhardy.
While I believe OIA Bible study is the best method we can use to read the Scriptures, I also firmly believe that outrageously innovative Bible interpretation is not something to aim for. If nobody’s ever seen what I see, I should proceed with great caution. That doesn’t mean I’m wrong (any more than my innovation proves I’m right). But it means I need to tread softly and ensure I’m firmly grounded in studious observation and interpretation of the text, and not in my preconceived notions.
If I fail to do that, please feel free to call it out. And if you can point me to anyone else who has explained Phil 4 in this way, I would be delighted to hear of it.
That Said…
Paul nears the end of his letter to the Philippians. He’s worked through the glorious truths of when and how to build unity, and when not to build unity. He’s painted a compelling picture of the humility and exaltation of Christ, and of how our Christ compels us to follow him in humiliation so we can share in his exaltation.
But at the end, Paul hits on some highly practical matters.
First, there is an explosive conflict between two prominent women in the church (Phil 4:2). It’s so big that Paul’s gotten wind of it and he recruits a friend, his “true companion” to help resolve it (Phil 4:3).
Then we get a set of seemingly random but beautifully memorable memory verses (Phil 4:4-9).
Then Paul moves on to his closing thanksgiving for their financial support of his ministry (Phil 4:10-20).
Finally, he concludes his letter in his usual way (Phil 4:21-23).
So what are we to make of the instructions in Phil 4:4-9?
The Usual Approach
Normally, people read these verses as a series of scattershot principles to keep in mind about the Christian life. And this could be the case. Paul does this very thing in other epistles (Rom 16:16-20, 1 Cor 16:1-18, etc.). And other letter writers appear to do a similar thing (Hebrews 13, portions of James).
Also, one foundation of this approach is the assumption that “peace” in Phil 4:7 and Phil 4:9 is a psychological state. The “peace of God” which guards your heart and mind is something similar to contentment or security in one’s faith. This certainly fits with where Paul goes in Phil 4:10-20. And the word “peace” demonstrably has this meaning in other letters of Paul’s (Rom 14:17, Rom 15:13, possibly 1 Cor 1:3, 2 Cor 1:2, Gal 6:16, etc.).
And frankly, each verse in Phil 4:4-9 stands very well on its own. Each one makes perfect sense as a discrete instruction, listed in a series of reminders.
But What If…?
But what if that conflict between Euodia and Syntyche was so explosive that nobody knew what to do about it? I’m sure Paul was not the first person to try to help them. Neither of them are accused of selfish self-interest in preaching the gospel (Phil 1:15). Neither of them is named an evildoer, a mutilator of the flesh (Phil 3:2), an enemy of the cross of Christ (Phil 3:18), or one who ought to be looked out for, avoided, or destroyed by God.
No, they are “fellow workers.” Their names are in the book of life. They have labored side by side with Paul in the ministry of the gospel. They’ve been a part of the team. Perhaps they’ve even been leaders of teams themselves. They just have so completely misunderstood and miscommunicated with one another that they can no longer agree in the Lord (Phil 4:2-3).
Perhaps you’ve seen conflict this explosive. So strong and confusing that nobody knows what to do. There is no clear right side or wrong side, and yet the church is still being ripped apart. Both sides have a true perspective, but the perspectives just keep missing each other. And everybody suffers as a result.
Martin Pettitt (2008), Creative Commons
Now imagine that you are Paul’s “true companion,” whom he asks to help resolve this thing. How would you feel about that? Perhaps you’d be glad he didn’t name you so you could slink under the pew and pretend to be home sick that day! What would you do?
- You could start by rejoicing in the Lord (Phil 4:4). Conflict always presents an opportunity to grow more like Christ. It will be better at the end than it was before the conflict broke out.
- Again, you need to be reminded a second time, so you can remind everyone else: Rejoice in the Lord (Phil 4:4).
- Then perhaps you could encourage each disputant to let the other side see how reasonable they can be. They should each show a willingness to listen and consider. They should both be open to understanding the other before trying to make themselves understood. They should be able to clearly distinguish the facts of the matter from their interpretations of those facts (Phil 4:5). “You hate me” is not a reasonable thing to tell someone. But, “When you said XYZ, I felt like you hated me. Is that what you meant?” is a perfectly reasonable thing to say.
- All should be reminded often that the Lord is at hand (Phil 4:5). There is no excuse for caricaturing the other perspective or resorting to personal attacks. God sees, he is present, and he is aware. And he will not allow you to go undefended forever.
- Explosive conflict tends to make us anxious. We don’t know what to do about it. But we can always pray. And when we pray, we are free as God’s children to ask him for deep resolution. We must make these requests with a spirit of thankfulness for the opportunities provided by the conflict (Phil 4:6).
- And wonder of wonders: From a worldly point of view, we should have no reason ever to expect that warring factions could agree and come back together. But God’s peace—perhaps not a psychological state of well-being, but simply the absence of infighting—surpasses all such understanding. But that doesn’t matter, because we have every reason to believe God’s peace can and will guard hearts and minds so we can speak and act in measured, kind, and sacrificial ways (Phil 4:7).
- And finally: Everyone who’s ever been in a conflict knows how the conflict shades your attitude toward your opponent. When I have concluded that someone is my enemy, they can no longer do anything right. Everything they do gets interpreted as hostile, selfish, ungodly, insincere, or aggressive. We must not do this. Instead, we are obligated to go out of our way to find something—anything!—about them that is good and praiseworthy. We must think about these things, and not about our hurt or offended feelings (Phil 4:8). It’s amazing how much this simple practice can do to lower the temperature in a heated conflict.
We can have hope that these things will work because Paul has modeled these very principles all throughout the letter (Phil 4:9). Just go back to his description of his opponents in chapter 1. How kind and gracious he is, refusing to attack or label them as hostiles! He is willing to focus on their godly motives, even while they’re causing him tremendous pain through their rivalry. At least “Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice” (Phil 1:18). Such is the attitude of one who has been brought under the reign of the God of peace (Phil 4:9).
Perhaps these verses are independently composed proverbial sayings. Perhaps.
But should it surprise us that we have such a hard time resolving conflicts between Christians if, perhaps, we have failed to recognize when the Lord provides for us a manual for peace?
Context matters.
For further explanation of this contextual flow of thought in Phil 4:2-9, see this post I wrote for the Gospel Coalition.
Context Matters: Quick to Listen, Slow to Speak
Perhaps you’ve heard it’s a good idea to listen more and speak less. And that, while anger is not always sinful, we ought always be slow to it. Certainly, such virtues are to be commended. But have we really understood James’s intentions when he speaks of these things?
Context matters. If we learn to read the Bible for what it is—and not as a collection of independently assembled proverbial sayings—we’ll discover that some of our most familiar passages don’t actually mean what we’ve always assumed.
The Verse
You may have already figured out which verse I have in mind:
Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger. (James 1:19)
The verse seems clear enough, right? It’s a perfect memory verse for the angry person or jabbering child. But have you considered what it is James wants you to hear more quickly? And what does he want you to be slower to speak about? And what does he expect you’ll be angry about?
Melissa Wiese (2007), Creative Commons
The Problem
James’s writing style differs from other New Testament authors, especially those who wrote letters. Where other authors make liberal use of logical connectors (for, therefore, because, so that, etc.), James relies more on his content to move his argument forward.
Commentators often compare James’s letter with Old Testament wisdom literature, because James draws on similar techniques (poetic metaphor, pithy wording, practical application) in his writing. But we must not forget that wisdom literature—be it Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Job, or James—always tries to make us think. The message is not always in your face or vibrantly presented. The message is something you’re supposed to ponder.
So the “problem” with James is that he doesn’t spell out how he gets from one idea to the next. He expects us to think about it and notice his careful verbal connections. His thought is less like a train and more like a gently flowing river; sometimes we need to paddle a bit, but we can always drift along behind James’s lead raft. He’ll drop clues into the water for us pick up so we don’t lose him at the next fork.
The Argument
James begins his letter with his main idea: “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds” (James 1:2). James wants to help us. He doesn’t want us to be surprised when trials come. We ought not be discouraged or depressed. We need eyes to see what God is doing in those trials. This perspective is one of “all joy.”
As we work through James’s argument from here, we should observe how each new paragraph (and sometimes each sentence) takes a key word or idea from the previous paragraph to expand on.
- Trials make us steadfast (James 1:3), and the effect of this steadfastness is to make us perfect and complete, lacking in nothing (James 1:4).
- One thing we lack is wisdom, but we can ask for it (James 1:5).
- When we ask (James 1:6), we can expect to receive something—wisdom, and joy in trials—from the Lord (James 1:7-8).
- But when we think of receiving something from the Lord, we typically think of material wealth. We must remember that both poverty (James 1:9) and riches (James 1:10-11) are trials in themselves. We must view them rightly to count them all joy.
- The greatest wealth is not found in riches (or poverty) but in the blessing that God promises to those who remain steadfast (James 1:12).
- Another trial is related to how we understand our trials! When undergoing trial, we tend to doubt God’s promises and charge him with doing wrong by us (James 1:13).
- But God never does wrong by us; any wrong comes from the evil desire that sprouts within (James 1:14-15).
- In other words, what we say about our trials really matters. Let us never say God is responsible for the evil that comes from within us.
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- For example: While it may be appropriate for someone to say that God is the cause of their season of singleness (he put me here in what feels like a trial), it is never appropriate to say that God is the cause of their lust problem (if he hadn’t put me in this season, I wouldn’t have this temptation).
- We must not be deceived, failing to see God as our unchanging Father who gives us good and perfect gifts (James 1:16-17).
- One of those good and perfect gifts is to make us good and perfect through steadfastness in trial (back up to James 1:4). This could also be described as a new birth, which he grants us through his word of truth (James 1:18).
Back to the Verse
So when we finally reach James 1:19, having walked through the chapter to that point, we see a few things:
- We must be “quick to hear” the word of truth (James 1:18) that declares who God is (James 1:17), who we are (James 1:14-15), and what God is doing in us through trials (James 1:3-4).
- We must be “slow to speak” words of criticism about the God (James 1:13) who brings us trials (James 1:2) to make us steadfast (James 1:12), perfect and complete (James 1:4).
- We must be “slow to anger” toward the Father of lights (James 1:17), who gives generously (James 1:5), promises assuredly (James 1:12), and transforms us personally (James 1:18).
The Argument Moves On
Your anger toward God will never produce the righteousness in you God desires (James 1:20). Put away your stubborn and rebelliously self-centered interpretations of your trials—which are filthy and rampantly wicked—and receive the word of God which speaks to your trials (James 1:21). And don’t just listen, but actually do it; let God’s word change your perspective and make you truly steadfast in trial (James 1:22-25). When you’re ready to bridle your tongue, and speak of your trials (even your religion) the same way God does in his word (James 1:26), you’ll be transformed to move out beyond yourself to serve the weakest among you (James 1:27).
Conclusion
So while James 1:19 remains a marvelous memory verse, it might be helpful to know James especially has in mind our listening to God, our speaking about God, and our anger toward God. We must deal with this before we’ll be equipped to love our neighbor (James 1:27, and on into chapter 2).
Context matters.
Many thanks to my colleagues Dave Royes and Mark Fodale for showing me the way, just this week, through James’s river of thought here in chapter 1.
