Genesis | Knowable Word

The Impact of the Old Testament on Colossians

December 6, 2023 By Peter Krol

The writers of the New Testament were saturated in the text and worldview of the Old Testament. So instead of trying to figure things out for ourselves, we’re usually better served by picking up on not only the quotations but also the allusions to the Old Testament.

For example, in this article, G.K. Beale explains three OT allusions in the book of Colossians that are easy to miss.

Col 1:6, 10 – alluding to Gen 1:28
Col 1:9 – alluding to Ex 31:3, 35:31-32
Col 3:16 – alluding to the superscripts of Psalms 67 and 76

Beale doesn’t merely observe these allusions. He also explains how they illuminate Paul’s argument in Colossians.

Check it out!

Why Summaries are Not the Same as Main Points

August 4, 2023 By Peter Krol

I want you to understand that you can get the main point of a Bible passage you’re studying. That’s why, in addition to providing some techniques, I’ve given you a number of examples from different text types in the Bible.

Before we move into application, there’s one last thing you should know about main points: They are not the same as summaries.

one black chess piece separated from red pawn chess pieces — Photo by Markus Spiske on Pexels.com

Definitions

An accurate summary may be the climax of observation, but a main point is the climax of interpretation. A summary states what the passage says; a main point states what the passage means. A summary describes what happens; a main point captures the text’s essential argument.

A summary of Prov 31:10-31 might be “a description of a virtuous woman,” but the main point is to show what sort of woman is worthy of praise.

A summary of Luke 18:1-30 might be “parables and conversations about prayer, righteousness, and the kingdom of God,” but the main point is that the kingdom of God comes when people humble themselves, receive it as children, and leave some things to gain everything.

A summary of Ephesians 4 might be “unity in the body of Christ, and the new life,” but the main point is that diversity shouldn’t divide the church; but when it does, stop thinking about it the way Gentiles do

Uses

Why does this distinction matter?

Sometimes folks who study the Bible mistake the main point for a summary. They put in the work of analyzing a text and they can outline its contents. But it’s dangerous to then take those contents and attempt to apply them, because they have little rational basis for applying them in one way and not another.

A summary is most helpful when you need to find something or remember where it’s located in the Scriptures. (“There’s a great parable about two men who prayed to God from a desire to be righteous before him. Let’s take a look at Luke 18 to see how that worked out for them.”) But a main point is crucial when it comes time to provoke change unto Christlikeness.

We’re on shaky ground if we apply only select details of a text to our lives. It’s shaky because it’s possible to go in nearly any direction with application. Using only the details enables us to steer the ship of our own lives on a heading most pleasing to us.

But the best way to express submission to the Scripture and the Holy Spirit who inspired them is to grasp the author’s main point. Then there’s nowhere to hide and we must give account to the one who exposes our every thought, word, and deed.

That’s right: A clear grasp of the author’s main point is the best way to ensure your application is clear, direct, and organically arising from the text and not from your own invention.

An Example

For example, Genesis 1 clearly teaches about the creation of the world. There’s your summary of the chapter: The creation of the world. But until we can explain—from the text!—why this chapter narrates the creation of the world in the way it does, we have not yet grappled with the author’s agenda. His message. His main point.

So if all we come away with is “the creation of the world,” then we can apply the text in all sorts of ways. We can expect folks to line up with a particular view of how the creation took place. We can promote it as something to be taught in schools. We can debate the findings or usefulness of scientific theories based on their relationship to the details of Genesis 1.

Please note: I am not saying that any of those applications are necessarily bad things to do. I would argue only that they are somewhat ancillary to the author’s main message. Therefore, we’re in danger of putting most of our attention on things other than the thing the Lord wanted us to get from this text. And the Lord Jesus tends not to look favorably on those who ignore the “weightier matters” of his word in favor of secondary matters, however true those secondary matters might be.

In my book Knowable Word, I argue that the main point of Genesis 1 is that God’s creative work sets a pattern for human dominion of the earth—a pattern of illuminating, shaping, and filling. Every detail in the text moves the reader in this direction. I would argue that God certainly did the creation the way he describes it in this chapter; this is neither theological poetry nor historical fiction. However, the mechanics of the act of creation are not the main thing; the main thing is the pattern set for humanity.

Once we recognize the author’s intent to establish a divine pattern for human dominion—for the way life on earth was designed to work best—we’re ready to develop robust application for any community, anywhere in the world. We’ll understand how this pattern becomes the template for evaluating what happens to humanity in the rest of Genesis, and the rest of the Bible. And we’ll take greater delight in the Lord Jesus who lived out the pattern on behalf of his people and now transforms them to follow him in it.

How to Find Answers to Your Questions

May 26, 2023 By Peter Krol

When we study the Bible, most of interpretation consists of asking and answering questions. The questions themselves arise from our curiosity over our observations. But the answers? Do you know where to find those?

The Most Important Place to Look for Answers

At this point, conventional wisdom lists a number of resources and reference works that ought to be in a Christian’s library. I’ll get to such a list soon, but don’t let it distract you from the better portion.

The most important place to seek answers to your questions is in the text itself. Some of you reading this find this conviction self-evident and obvious, and you have already made a habit of seeking answers in the text. But for many others, it will take more practice. Seeking answers in the text itself is a habit that must be formed, and sometimes bad habits are very slow to die.

For example, I recently listened to podcast discussing the creation account of Genesis 1. The teacher based most of his instruction on the proposition that Genesis 1 is in the form of poetry. His evidence for this assertion arose from the assessments of scholars, comparisons with other ancient texts, and his philosophical framework regarding eastern vs. western worldviews.

The problem was that he never supported his primary assertion with evidence from the text itself. Now I’m open to discussing the question of the genre of Genesis 1. And all of the external evidence certainly matters. But that which trumps all of the external evidence is internal evidence from the text itself.

Genesis 1 does not present clauses in parallel lines like other Hebrew poetry does.
Genesis 1 does not use similes, metaphors, or emotive language the way other poetry does.
The Hebrew syntax of Genesis 1 uses verb forms and verb sequences standard to the narratives of Scripture. The same sort of syntax employed in most of the rest of the book of Genesis, which is clearly (and commonly agreed to be) made up of narratives.

Such evidence from the text supports a conclusion that Genesis 1 presents itself as narrative (even historical narrative), just as the rest of the book does. Now this evidence in itself does not guarantee that the events of Genesis 1 must be in a strict chronological sequence, since biblical narratives often rearrange chronology in order to communicate a particular message. But the evidence does strongly suggest that we ought to read the chapter as narrative and not as poetry.

Answers Addressed in the Text

So when your noble curiosity generates questions regarding your observation of the text (questions such as, what genre or text type is this?), your best instinct to cultivate is an instinct that searches the text itself for the answers. Search and search and search.

Let your questions drive you deeper into observation. Let observation and interpretation swirl round and round like a cyclone, in ever tighter loops.

You may be surprised to find how many of your questions can be answered within the text, if you only learn how and where to look. When such examination of the text becomes habitual, you will improve dramatically at being able to defend your conclusions and persuade others.

Answers Assumed in the Text

One obstacle for us today is when the biblical author assumes the answers to your questions. He wasn’t writing to you or me. He had his own audience. So he wasn’t trying to anticipate your questions, but those of his own audience.

This means that there is quite a bit of background information that’s not stated explicitly but nonetheless affects interpretation. For example, the author of Genesis 1 presumes prior knowledge of which “God” is the one engaging in the work of creation. Is it Yahweh, Astarte, Baal, Zeus, or last season’s winner of American Idol? Learning from external reference works about the author and audience of Genesis would help to clarify the answer to this question somewhat quickly.

For another example, comparisons to other ancient creation stories will yield great benefit. What makes this God in this story different from the Gods of Gilgamesh’s epic, or Enuma Elish? Some of these contrasts would have been obvious to those living in ancient times, but we can miss them on account of centuries of distance.

How to Determine When an Answer is Assumed

In the name of “the answer is assumed,” we run the risk of justifying just about any conclusion we can find in a reference work. How do we determine whether the answer is truly assumed, or we are simply importing it where it doesn’t belong?

This process isn’t a perfect science, but the key issue is: Do you have good reason to believe the original audience would have made this assumption? The more reason you have to believe that, the stronger will be the answers you find in reference works.

So ask: Would the original audience already have the necessary background knowledge? Would they have truly been familiar with this parallel text, cultural artifact, body of knowledge, etc.?

If so, then it makes sense to look up your answer in a commentary, study guide, or Bible atlas. We have a wealth of tools available to us today to help us get into the mindset of the original readers. Let’s make good use of them.

When to Let it Go

But if you can’t find the answer addressed in the text, and you don’t have good reason to believe it was assumed, you probably need to make like Elsa and let it go.

Resist the urge to close the knowledge gap simply with systematic theology, denominational tradition, or prior experience. Theology and tradition are important, but they fit best not while interpreting (answering interpretive questions) but while correlating (after determining the author’s main point). We must understand the present passage on its own terms, in light of its original audience, first, before we attempt to connect it to teaching found elsewhere in the Bible.

One exception to the principle in the previous sentence lies with certain implicational questions. Because implicational questions bridge the gap from interpretation into application, they often work best after we’ve determined the main point. So it may make sense to make use of reference works to help draw out those implications and stimulate our own reflection concerning them.

So how do we find answers to our interpretive questions? By shoving our noses back into the text for deeper observation. When further observation suggests that the answer would have been assumed and self-evident to the original audience, we’re then justified in pursuing external resources to help us better understand the mindset or culture of that audience. However, if we don’t have good reason to believe the answer is either addressed or assumed in the text, we’re best off letting the question go until another passage takes it up. There’s no shame in setting aside a particular question for a brighter day.

Units of Thought in Discourse

January 27, 2023 By Peter Krol

One of the most important observations to make in a passage is the structure. And the way to observe structure is to first identify the parts of the passage (the units of thought) so that you can figure out how those parts relate to one another. In this post I’ll show you some of the ways to recognize the units of thought in a discourse.

What is a Discourse?

Discourse is one of the three text types in Scripture. A discourse is simply a passage where someone is speaking. It could be a speech or sermon. It could be a law code. It could be a letter. It could be a prose prophetic text. But when someone is speaking or teaching, a few particular tools will help us to discern the units of thought in that speech.

Photo by Volodymyr Hryshchenko on Unsplash

Logical Connectors

The first thing to look for is logical connectors. These are words or phrases that signal the movement from one idea to another. Such words include because, since, however, therefore, consequently, for this reason, finally, and many more.

It’s important to observe the use of such logical connectors, but it’s even more important to figure out how they are being used. For example, the word “but” could signal a very narrow and particular contrast between two words (e.g. the contrast between “bronze bases” and “silver hooks” in Ex 38:17). It could signal a larger contrast between clauses (e.g. the contrast between “the patriarchs sold him into Egypt” and “God was with him” in Acts 7:9). Or it could signal a larger contrast between sections or units of thought (e.g. the contrast between “you were” in Eph 2:1-3 and “but God” in Eph 2:4-6).

Noticing these larger, discourse-level transitions (not just word-level or clause-level transitions) helps us to follow the author’s larger argument by identifying his units of thought. For example, in Ephesians, after the blessing of God in Eph 1:3-14, the connector words “for this reason” (Eph 1:15) signal the next section. And there is no discourse-level connector word again until the “therefore” of Eph 2:11. This suggests that Eph 1:15-2:10 are a single unit of thought, explaining Paul’s prayer for the Ephesians to perceive their union with Christ. And the “therefore” section of Eph 2:11-22 explains the practical implications of such union of the entire community with Christ (and therefore with one another).

Transitional and Thesis Statements

In a modern-day sermon, you might hear the preacher say “My first point is…” or “Having seen [the first point], that leads us to consider the matter of [the second point].” These are the sorts of transitional words and phrases speakers use to let their audience know they are moving from one idea to the next. Some biblical discourses do the same thing.

For example, Hebrews 1:4 states a thesis that the Son of God is superior to angels because he has inherited a superior name. Heb 1:5-14 then explains the superiority of the Son, and Heb 2:5-18 demonstrates his superior name. Though there is some application in the middle (Heb 2:1-4), Heb 1:4-2:18 makes one complete unit of thought.

Another example: Eccl 11:7-8 states a thesis that because light is pleasant for the eyes, we ought to rejoice in what God gives and remember that dark days are coming. Eccl 11:9-10 then expands on the command to rejoice in God’s gift of life, and Eccl 12:1-7 expands on the command to remember the Creator before the dark days of old age threaten your joy.

One more example: In the second half of 1 Corinthians, Paul introduces each section with a transitional “concerning [the matters about which you wrote.” These transitional statements clearly inform us how to understand each section, so that we don’t get lost in the details. 1 Cor 7 deals with sexual relationships. 1 Cor 8-11 addresses the matter of food offered to idols. 1 Cor 12-14 covers the topic of spiritual things or spiritual people (the word “gifts” does not appear in the Greek of 1 Cor 12:1 but is added by translators).

Shifts in Content

When distinguishing units of thought in discourse, one final tool to keep in mind is straightforward shifts in content. We see such shifts clearly in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount where he uses very few direct transitions or connectors. After the blessings (Matt 5:3-12) he discusses salt and light (Matt 5:13-16) and the proper understanding of the Law and the Prophets, against Pharisaic oral tradition (Matt 5:17-48).

Then he does offer a thesis statement in Matt 6:1 to warn us of practicing righteousness before other people, and his shifts in content from giving (Matt 6:2-4) to prayer (Matt 6:5-15) to fasting (Matt 6:16-18) mark the subdivisions under that larger thesis.

Finally, he concludes the sermon with discussion of treasure (Matt 6:19-34), true and false judgments (Matt 7:1-20), and hearing and doing (Matt 7:21-27).

Embedded Discourse

One special type of discourse to watch for is embedded discourse, which is when a speech is placed within another kind of text, such as a narrative. When we’re dealing with embedded discourse, we must not only look for structural markers within the discourse itself. We must also pay close attention to the narrative markers that show the author’s larger purpose.

The Sermon on the Mount is embedded within Matthew’s larger narrative. So while the shifts in content help us to observe structural units of thought within the speech, we must also take note of the narrative frame in Matt 4:23-5:2 and Matt 7:28-29 to grasp not only Jesus’ point but also Matthew’s larger point in recounting the sermon.

Another example: In the Flood narrative, notice the narrative markers “And God said to Noah” (Gen 6:13) and “Then the LORD aid to Noah” (Gen 7:1). Prior to the Flood, God makes two speeches to Noah. We ought not squish them together, as though they were a single set of instructions. The narrator signals that God had two points to make or two sets of instructions for Noah.

Similarly, in Genesis 17, the narrative markers of Gen 17:1, 9, 15, and 22 mark three distinct speeches of God. God had something to say about himself (Gen 17:1-8). Something about Abram (Gen 17:9-14). Something about Sarai (Gen 17:15-21). And then he was done (Gen 27:22). Simply observe how the discourse has been embedded within the narrative, and you have immediately found the main units of thought and thereby the structure.

Conclusion

Discourse texts are some of the most beloved passages in all the Scripture. But we must be careful, for it is remarkably easy to get lost in the details. Employ these four tools—logical connectors, transitional and thesis statements, content shifts, and narrative markers for embedded discourse—to help you find the units of thought, and you’ll be well on your way to grasping the passage’s structure. This matters, because only once you’ve grasped the structure will you be able to draw credible and defensible conclusions about the passage’s main idea.

We Love to Give Gold Stars

October 24, 2022 By Ryan Higginbottom

People love stories, and the Gospels and histories are some of the Bible books we’re drawn to most. But interpreting these narrative books can be tricky.

Here’s one hurdle. We have an impulse to label every character. We want to know: Are they good or bad? Was this particular action praiseworthy or condemnable?

We pose these black-or-white questions because it’s much easier to have Biblical characters in stark categories when we turn to application. We should be like the good person, and we should not be like the bad person.

Most often, the Bible does not bow to our desires for quick labeling. Applying narrative texts requires the hard, slow work of wisdom.

Jacob vs Rahab

Let’s consider Jacob and Rahab. Jacob’s story reads like a winding path, so we feel a strong impulse to grade him in each scene.

Here is the beginning of Genesis 35.

God said to Jacob, “Arise, go up to Bethel and dwell there. Make an altar there to the God who appeared to you when you fled from your brother Esau.” So Jacob said to his household and to all who were with him, “Put away the foreign gods that are among you and purify yourselves and change your garments. Then let us arise and go up to Bethel, so that I may make there an altar to the God who answers me in the day of my distress and has been with me wherever I have gone.” So they gave to Jacob all the foreign gods that they had, and the rings that were in their ears. Jacob hid them under the terebinth tree that was near Shechem. (Genesis 35:1–4)

Those foreign gods are curious! Did Jacob hide them under a tree so he could retrieve them? Or did he do it so there would be a defined marker of repentance?

The text doesn’t answer these questions. We are far more concerned about handing out (or withholding) gold stars than the Biblical authors were.

Compare this small incident in Jacob’s life with the story of Rahab, which begins in Joshua 2. Rahab was a prostitute living in Jericho, yet she hid the Jewish spies when they arrived to scope out the city (Josh 2:1–5). She lied about the spies to the king’s men, and this allowed the spies to return safely to Israel (Josh 2:23).

When Israel came to Jericho and “devoted all in the city to destruction” (Josh 6:21), Rahab and her family were rescued, just as the messengers had promised (Josh 6:22–23). Rahab was welcomed as an ethnic outsider into Israel (Josh 6:25), and the author of Hebrews praises her for her faith (Heb 11:31).

My point is not to contrast Jacob with Rahab. Rather, notice how the text directs us to view these incidents. The Biblical authors commend Rahab’s actions, many of which seem to violate Mosaic law. On the other hand, the Biblical authors are silent about Jacob and the idols.

The Dangers and Effects of a Grading Mindset

This is a discussion about interpretation. There is no harm in asking scores of questions related to observations of a Biblical text. However, we must be careful to answer only the questions the Bible itself answers.

When we obsess about the ethics of every action of a character in a Bible passage, we are likely to miss the main point. We should investigate why the author wrote this passage in this way; if they were not concerned with parsing the moral grade of a character’s actions, we should not be either.

Our desire to grade each character’s actions often leads us to speculation. We assume that people in the Bible will think, feel, or act like us (or like someone we know), and our subsequent conclusions can lead us off course. We must be mindful of when we are making good and necessary deductions and when we are in the midst of conjecture.

This Too Points to Christ

We want our characters (or their actions) to be good or bad, but the Bible does not bend to this binary. We want to point to a hero, to someone whose actions are consistently and thoroughly good so that we can listen to and follow them.

In other words, we want Jesus. He is the only person in whom there is no sin (1 John 3:5, 1 Peter 2:22). His actions were perfect, and his good works atone not only for our bad works, but for our bad thoughts, desires, and natures.

Like us, Biblical characters have flaws, some of which are on bright display. But those flaws are not the point of the passage as often as we think. When we fixate on these questions, we drift away from what matters most.

Context Matters: God Tests Abraham

August 29, 2022 By Ryan Higginbottom

Perhaps you’ve heard about the way God tested Abraham, that when a long-awaited son was born, God told Abraham to raise his knife. Maybe you’ve been taught from the Scriptures how much Abraham trusted God in that episode and you’ve been inspired to do the same.

Is Abraham’s faith the central theme of this well-known story? Should we come away from it trying hard to be more like this Old Testament patriarch? Are there any aspects of this story that point ahead to the gospel of Jesus?

Context matters. It’s impossible to understand that testing of Abraham without understanding the preceeding chapters in Genesis. When we learn to read the Bible as a whole instead of as a hastily-gathered photo album of Sunday school tales, we’ll see that some of our favorite stories have a deeper meaning than we’ve always assumed.

Abraham’s Only Son

Some Christians say that, aside from the coming of Jesus, the birth of Isaac is the most anticipated event in Scripture. It’s hard to argue!

From the first time that God called Abram he spoke of all the descendants he would eventually have (Genesis 12:2). This certainly required faith instead of sight, because Sarai was barren at the time.

After 25 years, Sarah finally conceived and Isaac was finally born (Genesis 21:1–3). Isaac was the son of the promise, the child through whom God would keep his covenant vows.

Imagine Abraham’s shock, then, when God commands him to “offer [Isaac] … as a burnt offering” (Genesis 22:2). But Abraham rises early and sets off with Isaac.

A quick observation of this passage (Genesis 22:1–19) reveals that the word “son” shows up 13 different times. And three times Isaac is called Abraham’s “only son” (Genesis 22:2, 12, 16). This may strike readers as odd, because Isaac is not Abraham’s only son! Ishmael was Abraham’s first son by Hagar (Genesis 16:1–4). Doesn’t he count?

Well, actually, no. He doesn’t count any more. Not for this purpose.

After God brought Abraham into covenant, Abraham struggled to believe that Sarah would eventually get pregnant. He begged God that Ishmael might be brought in for the purposes of God’s promises (Genesis 17:18). But God insisted that Abraham’s covenant line would be established through Sarah (Genesis 17:19, 21).

As long as Ishmael was around, Abraham might be tempted to think he had a good fall-back option if something happened to Isaac. So, while Abraham loved Ishmael deeply and God promised to bless him, Ishmael was sent away after Isaac was born (Genesis 21:8–14). Now, in terms of those living with Abraham, Isaac was truly Abraham’s “only son.”

So at the beginning of Genesis 22, Isaac is the one and only son in Abraham’s house. He is the promised son. This heightens and focuses the test for Abraham. How exactly can Abraham have millions of descendents through Isaac if he dies?

God’s Provision

On the way to the mountain, Isaac wonders where the animal sacrifice is, but Abraham is confident that God will provide (Genesis 22:7–8). Abraham is sure of much more than this—he knows that Isaac will come back down the mountain with him. He says as much to the young men that came on the trip (Genesis 22:5), and the author of Hebrews tells us that Abraham knew God was able to raise Isaac from the dead (Hebrews 11:17–19).

As Abraham is about to put his son to death, God stops him and provides a ram in his place (Genesis 22:13). God’s intervention and provision are so central to this episode that Abraham calls the place “The Lord will provide” (Genesis 22:14)

Blessings Through the Obedient One

Many Christians have seen a picture of the gospel in Abraham and Isaac. A father was willing to put his cherished, only son to death. Some make the connection between Isaac and Christ because Jesus was also called “beloved” by his father (at both his baptism and transfiguration). Jesus is also referred to as the “only son” of God in the most quoted verse in all the Bible (John 3:16).

But we need to ask a question. Is this gospel connection a coincidence of language? Or does this passage make that case? We can gain a lot of clarity by reading to the end of the passage!

The angel of the Lord called to Abraham a second time and repeated (and enlarged!) the covenant promises because of Abraham’s obedience (Genesis 22:16). And note the specific promises that are highlighted: Abraham will be blessed, his offspring will be multiplied, they will possess the gates of their enemies, and in Abraham’s offspring shall all the nations of the earth be blessed (Genesis 22:17–18). And, in case we missed it the first time, we are reminded that this came about because of Abraham’s obedience (Genesis 22:18).

In other words, because of one man’s obedience to God, the nations of the earth will be blessed. Now there’s a gospel connection!

I’m not claiming that a passage must have just a single arrow that points ahead to Jesus and his gospel. But when we only look at the angle of a substitute or the death of an only son, we might miss the main thrust of the passage.

God puts this man through a terrible test. By God’s grace, he passes. God provides a substitute. And the man’s obedience means untold riches for the world. This story might be better than we ever thought!

Context matters.

For more examples of why context matters, click here.

Check the Context Before and After

August 5, 2022 By Peter Krol

As we’ve sought to demonstrate that literary context matters, we’ve focused primarily on specific verses or short segments of text that are commonly used without regard for the author’s argument to his original audience. But there is another way to make use of literary context in our Bible study, which is simply to pay attention to the texts immediately before and after the text under study. This practice aids interpretation by helping us identify not only what a passage says but also what it is doing to assist the author’s larger argument.

Here are some examples.

Help from the Preceding Text

2 Kings 2 tells the story of Elijah’s ascension into heaven and Elisha’s taking up the prophetic mantle from his mentor. A quick look at what comes immediately before reveals a king who died without a son (2 Kings 1:17-18). That setup (that King Ahaziah has no heir) introduces the chief concern that chapter 2 takes up: What will happen when Elijah goes? Will Israel be left without a prophetic voice?

The armor of God passage in Ephesians 6 begins with an overarching command that governs the rest of the passage: “Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might” (Eph 6:10). We ought to ask: How does one do that? What does it look like for someone to draw strength / be strengthened by the Lord and his strength? Perhaps help can be found immediately prior? In Paul’s command to masters, he suggests that the power to do good to their servants and cease with threatening comes from “knowing that he who is both their Master and your is in heaven, and that there is no partiality with him” (Eph 6:9). So a spiritual battle requires heavenly strength, which will come from trusting that Jesus is seated in heaven, far above all rule and authority (Eph 1:19-21), and giving good gifts to men (Eph 4:7-14).

Help from the Following Text

Genesis 38 tells a dark and tragic story about Judah, his sons, a daughter-in-law, and his eventual heir. Besides the dark content, it is especially strange for having been inserted right in the midst of a larger narrative that is supposed to be about Joseph. In fact, Gen 37:36 and Gen 39:1 repeat the same information in order to signal the fact that the main story line is being put on hold just to narrate Judah’s situation (which took place not all at once but over many years). Just keep reading into chapter 39 to see a number of clear contrasts between the half-brothers Judah and Joseph: experience of power, figurative use of garments, perspective toward God’s moral commands.

In Matthew 4:12-25, Jesus begins his public ministry, and Matthew describes it in a way that parallels Isaiah’s prophecy of a dawning light (Matt 4:15-16): beginning in Zebulun and Naphtali (Matt 4:12-17), passing by the way of the sea (Matt 4:18-22), and going beyond the Jordan (Matt 4:23-25). The next passage informs us that the light is here (speaking with the authority of God from the mountaintop – Matt 5:1-12) and is infecting the new people of God (Matt 5:13-16).

Help from both Before and After

Revelation 4 describes a magnificent scene of the vigorous worship offered in heaven to the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come. Immediately prior to this scene, Jesus comes knocking on the door and inviting those who persevere in bearing witness to him to join him on his throne, just as he joined his Father on his throne (Rev 3:20-21). That highlights the significance of Jesus’ own invitation to witness the scene of heavenly worship (Rev 4:1). In addition, the following scene (Rev 5) shows Jesus himself as the only one worthy to receive authority from the Father to execute judgment on the earth. He acquired such authority through his death and resurrection (Rev 5:6). Noticing the flow of thought helps us to preach the gospel very specifically from each text. In chapter 4, the gospel is not one of death and resurrection, particularly, but of Jesus opening the way to the Father. In chapter 5, this gospel is fleshed out by showing how Jesus opened that way and became qualified to receive all authority in heaven and on earth.

Matthew 8:23-9:8 contains three brief narratives of Jesus performing great miracles. The stories hang together as a unity to explain Jesus’ great authority, on both heaven (Matt 8:28-34) and earth (Matt 8:23-27), to forgive sins (Matt 9:1-8). So much, so good, but look at how much more the surrounding context adds. Immediately before, we have would-be followers of Jesus confronted with the great cost of following Jesus (Matt 8:18-22); the question of whether they are willing to pay that cost is left hanging and unanswered. And immediately after, we see not a “would-be” but an actual follower of Jesus responding immediately to the call (Matt 9:9-12). Perhaps the chain of three miracles is there to explain what makes the difference. To explain the chief reason why it is worth paying the cost to follow Jesus. Can sick sinners find authority like this anywhere else?

Conclusion

Whenever you study a passage, one simple discipline to develop is to look at what happens immediately before and after. As you do, consider how those surrounding texts help you to understand what your passage is doing in the larger argument. In just a few minutes of effort, you may get significant help toward interpreting the main point of your passage.

When the Same Sin Comes ’round Again

August 1, 2022 By Ryan Higginbottom

You’ll be forgiven if, when reading Genesis 20, you get a strong sense of déjà vu. If the two incidents didn’t happen in different locations, we might think a Hebrew scribe lost his place and picked up earlier in the same scroll.

In Genesis 20:2, when entering a new country, Abraham said that Sarah was his sister instead of his wife. Earlier, in Genesis 12:19, when entering a new country, Abram said that Sarai was his sister instead of his wife. Putting the name change aside, aren’t these two events essentially the same? What could the original author have intended for his readers by including these twin episodes?

Striking Similarities

Let’s polish off our observ a tion skills and note many of the similarities between Genesis 12:10–20 and Genesis 20:1–18. (I’ll refer to Abraham and Sarah in both passages.)

Both situations happened when Abraham was “sojourning” in a land to the “south” (Genesis 12:10; 20:1).
Both situations involved a king (Pharaoh, Abimelech) “taking” Sarah for his wife after being told she was Abraham’s sister (Genesis 12:15; 20:2).
Abraham gained great material blessing from both kings (Genesis 12:16; 20:14).
The king and his household suffered because of Abraham’s lies (Genesis 12:17; 20:18).
Both kings confronted Abraham about his deceit (Genesis 12:18–19; 20:9–10).
Abraham was afraid of dying in both places (Genesis 12:12–13; 20:11).

With proper time and space, we could list even more parallels between these passages, but this will do for now. There are a lot of similarities!

Noticeable Differences

Of course, these episodes are different, and it may be some of these differences that help us understand the author’s main point.

The passage in Genesis 20 is much longer, including more interaction between Abraham and the king. (In Genesis 12, Pharaoh speaks to Abram but no response is recorded.)
Abraham’s rationale about calling Sarah his sister comes at the beginning of the passage in Genesis 12 but near the end of the passage in Genesis 20. In fact, in Genesis 20:13, it sounds like Abraham had been insisting Sarah go along with this deception for quite a while.
God speaks with Abimelech at some length in Genesis 20:3–7, resulting in Abimelech rebuking Abraham. We don’t have evidence that God spoke to Pharaoh.
Sarah’s beauty was mentioned twice in Genesis 12 (Gen 12:11; 12:14) but not at all in Genesis 20. (Sarah was around 25 years older in Genesis 20.)
At the end of the passage, Pharaoh sent Abraham away, but Abimelech invited Abraham to live anywhere in the land he wanted (Genesis 12:20; 20:15).
We are not told the nature of the “great plagues” with which God afflicted Pharaoh and his house (Genesis 12:17). However, we know that God “closed all the wombs of the house of Abimelech” (Genesis 20:18).
Abraham prays for healing for Abimelech and his house (Genesis 20:17). We’re not told if or how the plagues ceased in Egypt.

Again, we could go on. Despite all the similarities between these passages, the differences are striking. The episode in Genesis 20 is more extended and more personal than the one in Genesis 12—Abraham is rebuked at greater length, his explanation is drawn out publicly, and his role as a prophet for Abimelech is turned on its head. Finally, Abraham is forced to pray for an end to barrenness in Abimelech’s house, which is the same exact thing he has likely been praying for his own house for 25 years!

Why is This Passage Here?

Both of these passages demonstrate Abraham’s failure to trust the Lord. God had promised a son for him through Sarah, which would be impossible if he were to die! Abraham put Sarah in great danger on multiple occasions because he thought God might need “help” (in the form of deception!) to keep him safe.

So why do we have Genesis 20 in our Bibles?

Abraham’s missteps were not limited to these two incidents. Though he is hailed as a man of faith (Hebrews 11:8–10; 17–19), he struggled to believe how God would provide an heir for him (Genesis 15:1–4). He went along with Sarai’s plan to give her servant Hagar to him as a wife (Genesis 16:1–6).

When we remind readers that context matters on this blog, we mean that the whole context of a passage is important. We often notice what comes before a passage, but what comes after is also important. Considering context means that we try to understand how a passage fits in with the larger story or argument of a book.

Genesis 20 shows us that Abraham failed in the same way repeatedly. Yet, despite these repeated failures, God still kept his promises. As the first audience for this book was likely the Israelites coming out of Egypt after the Exodus—Israelites who failed in the same way repeatedly and needed to trust God to keep his promises to take them safely into Canaan—this was a relevant lesson!

God was also preparing Abraham for an even greater test in Genesis 22. God dealt with Abraham gently and faithfully, never leaving this man to whom he made covenant promises. Knowing the Abraham of Genesis 12, Genesis 16, and Genesis 20, the unflinching confidence we see on display in Genesis 22:1–19 is surprising. But perhaps this confidence is built through steadfast love in response to failure, through faith the size of a mustard seed, and through seeing God keep his promises.

Does Genesis Have Two Creation Accounts?

July 27, 2022 By Peter Krol

How are Genesis 1 and Genesis 2 related? Benjamin Shaw states the issue as follows:

One often hears the idea that there are two creation accounts in Genesis 1–2, almost as if it were intuitively obvious. There are certainly differences between Genesis 1 and Genesis 2. But the question is whether we have here two separate accounts of creation that have been joined together by some much later editor, or whether we have one unified account with different emphases. The former view came from the skeptical scholarship that arose from the Enlightenment. The latter has, for millennia, been the view of the church.

He goes on to briefly defend the latter “traditional” view. What do you think? Does he make a persuasive case? Does he show it from the text?

Regardless of whether you think Genesis presents one creation account or two, can you do more than simply assert your position? Can you demonstrate from the text itself that your conclusion is how the original author intended the text to be read?

Check it out!

When a Name Goes Missing in the Bible

July 4, 2022 By Ryan Higginbottom

Observation is the first step in any good Bible study practice. And in most passages, there is a lot to observe!

Under the umbrella of observation, we naturally think about noticing what is present in the text. But sometimes, we also need to notice what is absent. The key to interpreting a section of Genesis 21 turns on just such an observation.

Ishmael is Sent Away

When Isaac was weaned, his parents threw a huge party to celebrate this milestone (Genesis 21:8). During the party, Ishmael laughed at Isaac, and this angered Sarah so much that she told Abraham to get rid of Ishmael and his mother, Hagar (Genesis 21:10). God agreed with Sarah, so Abraham sent them away (Genesis 21:12–14).

When their meager food and water ran out, Hagar prepared for her son’s death and cried out to the Lord (Genesis 21:15–16). God heard Ishmael’s cries and opened Hagar’s eyes to a nearby well (Genesis 21:17–19). God was with Ishmael as he grew up (Genesis 21:20).

This story is straightforward, right?

Something is Missing

As we continue to remind our readers, context matters. Why does this story immediately follow the glorious account of the long-awaited birth of Isaac (Genesis 21:1–7)? How does the story’s placement in the text aid our interpretation?

I didn’t understand this connection until I landed on an observation. In these fourteen verses (Genesis 21:8–21), something important is missing.

Ishmael’s name doesn’t appear at all.

In fact, Moses (the author) seems to go out of his way to avoid writing Ishmael’s name. Moses refers to “the boy” (6 times), “the child” (3 times), “the son of Hagar” (or a close variant, 4 times), and “his son” (once). This whole section of Scripture is centered on Ishmael, and Moses steadfastly refuses to include his name. Why is this the case?

Making Way for Isaac

From earlier in Genesis, we know that Abraham was a man who liked to protect himself and hedge his bets. He repeatedly tried to pass Sarah off as his sister (Genesis 12:10–20, 20:1–18). He fathered Ishmael with Sarah’s servant because he couldn’t see how God would otherwise keep his promise (Genesis 16:1–4).

Once Isaac was born, he was to become the focus of the story. Had Ishmael stayed around, there would not only (likely) be sustained conflict between him and Isaac, but it would have given Abraham a way to doubt and wonder. If anything were to happen to Isaac, I still have Ishmael right here.

Moses uses the names in the text to help us understand. The names for Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar all show up in this passage, so Moses is not opposed to names in general. But he won’t call Ishmael by his name. Moses wants his readers to see that Ishmael is moving off stage. Ishmael is no longer a main character. The covenant spotlight is now on Isaac.

Learning to Notice

Someone new to Bible study might be thinking, It’s hard enough to observe everything that’s there in the text, and now I’m supposed to notice all of the things that aren’t there?! Yes and no.

It would be impossible to notice everything missing from a passage of Scripture. That’s ambiguous and aimless. But we should notice anomalies—things that are unusual or out of place. Anything that sticks out as abnormal.

Moses used names, repeatedly, for all of the characters in this story except one. That should make us sit up and take notice. In observation we gather the fuel we need for the fire of interpretation, and observing odd insertions or omissions is no exception.

Note: After writing this article I remembered that Peter mentioned this observation in one of our foundational articles on observation. I heartily recommend that article, but I came to this thought independently this week as my church is working through Genesis in Sunday school.