Essays in Understanding the Bible (3): The Big Picture

In this series of essays, Helen Parry explores some basic principles for understanding the Bible. The essays are posted monthly on the LICC website, normally on the third Monday of the month. Since interpretation is not a dry academic exercise but is essential to a proper use of Scripture, each essay is followed by questions for reflection (and discussion with others, where applicable), and suggestions for action.

In February 2008, Dr Rowan Williams, the Archbishop of Canterbury, gave a lecture to lawyers at the Royal Courts of Justice in London. His title was Civil and Religious Law in England: a Religious Perspective. Towards the end of a carefully developed discussion about the place of law in a pluralist society, he said that ‘a scheme in which individuals retain the liberty to choose the jurisdiction under which they will seek to resolve certain carefully specified matters’ seems ‘unavoidable’. This was picked up by the media, and presented as a recommendation that certain aspects of Sharia law be authorised for the Muslim population in Britain.

Newspapers have a habit of taking out of context a single phrase or sentence from a politician’s speech. From this they may paint highly misleading pictures that do not represent the speaker’s intention or opinion. Sometimes this may be done deliberately, in order to discredit the politician or the party. Sometimes it is irresponsible rather than malicious – the newspapers love sensational headlines. In either case, though, it hinders the pursuit of clarity and truth.

Archbishop Rowan’s comments needed to be read in the context of his complete argument. It would then have been seen as an observation, not as a recommendation. And the full lecture made it clear that only a very limited application of Sharia in Britain could ever be permitted, subject to stringent safeguards. In all cases, moreover, it would be subordinate to the laws of the land.

Much the same applies to our understanding of the Bible. Every verse, every book, is part of a larger unit – the Bible as a whole. The context in which a book was written, and the purpose for which it was written, have a large influence on how it should be interpreted. And one part of it may be amplified, clarified or modified by another.

Many different principles come into play here – but perhaps the most fundamental is that the Bible is a progressive revelation. Just as we see the people of God develop from a small nomadic tribal group in the 3rd millennium BC into the worldwide church portrayed in the book of Revelation, so God’s purposes, and human understanding of his character, unfold through the pages of Scripture.

The watershed, of course, is the incarnation, life, death and resurrection of Jesus – the one to whom the whole Old Testament looked forward, and around whom the whole New Testament revolves. The first two verses of the letter to the Hebrews make this very clear: ‘In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son.’

Martin Luther referred to the Old Testament as ‘the cradle of Christ’. Even more memorable, perhaps, is the saying of Augustine, commonly translated like this:

‘The New is in the Old concealed;
The Old is in the New revealed.’

God’s great story begins with the dramatic account of creation. However we interpret the first chapters of Genesis, the Bible is clear that God created the world, and that he did so for a purpose. In the lavish display of his creative power, he made intelligent beings, capable of living in relationship with him. The great tragedy told by the Bible is that human beings broke that relationship, by setting their wills in opposition to God’s will. The consequences of that disobedience work their way out throughout the pages of Scripture.

But alongside the universal and pervasive effects of sin we perceive the working out of God's plan for restoring the severed relationship. Choosing one man, Abraham, God promises him descendants who will become a special nation, who will acquire their own land and become a blessing to the rest of humankind.

Within a few generations, however, Abraham’s descendants find themselves in enslavement and captivity in Egypt. The Great Escape, known as the Exodus (literally a ‘going out’), after the inauguration of the symbolic meal of the Passover, takes the people out of Egypt, across the Red Sea, through the desert, to Mount Sinai where God gives them the Law, and eventually to Canaan – the ‘promised land’. The images of captivity, Passover, Exodus, the desert, Sinai and the land recur throughout the Bible as symbols of God’s redeeming activity.

The incarnation, ministry and redemptive work of Jesus, however, bring a new understanding to these old themes. Things that in the Old Testament apply explicitly to the people of Israel take on different forms in the New Testament when applied to the church. There is now no geographical location, no reference to specific periods of time.

The theme of the Exodus, for example, starts with a specific event, at a particular place and time. As the Old Testament develops, the theme is used in many ways. The event is constantly recalled, generally for two main purposes: to reaffirm the Israelites’ confidence that they are the chosen people of God, as at Solomon’s dedication of the Temple in 1 Kings 8:16 and 53; and to warn them not to take his favour for granted, as in many passages in the prophecy of Jeremiah (such as 7:22-26; 11:7-8).

This image becomes particularly potent when the people are in captivity in Babylon, and the prophets use Exodus imagery, as in Jeremiah 31:16-17: ‘“They will return from the land of the enemy. So there is hope for your future”, declares the Lord. “Your children will return to their own land.”’

In the New Testament the image is constantly used, explicitly as in 1 Corinthians 5:7: ‘Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed’, and in the direct comparisons between Moses and Christ in Hebrews 3-4; or implicitly as in the 40 days of Jesus’ temptations in the wilderness (Matthew 4:1-11). It is clear, however, that Jesus and the New Testament writers saw the continuing significance of the event not in terms of political or physical deliverance but in terms of the spiritual deliverance and new life that Jesus won for his people.

Some Latin-American theologians of the mid-20th century, seeing their people trapped in poverty and impotence, looked back to the Exodus as their inspiration for a Theology of Liberation. One of the problems with using the Exodus to inspire a liberation struggle, however, is the fact that the heart of the Exodus account is God’s initiative and sovereign overruling of events, rather than a revolt by the enslaved Israelites (for which there is no biblical evidence). This is not to say that the Exodus account has no relevance to oppressed people today – indeed it is relevant in many respects – but that it cannot legitimately be used to justify an armed struggle.

By contrast, however, the Old Testament emphasis on the land does not appear to carry over into New Testament times. To the Israelites the land was a powerful symbol of stability and security – the promise and subsequent possession of the land is one of the main narrative themes of the Old Testament. To the early church, however, which so rapidly spread beyond the land and people of Israel into neighbouring countries and among different nationalities, land had little significance. In the Old Testament, the notion of kingship was inextricably bound up with the land. Jesus’ teaching, however, focused on the kingdom of God, and had nothing to do with territory or temporal power. The kingdom, rather, was the sphere in which God’s authority was acknowledged.

So what are we to make of all the Old Testament promises about the land? First of all, there is no clear warrant in the New Testament for the belief that part of God’s redemptive purposes is that the Jewish people should reoccupy the promised land. Old Testament promises have to be filtered through the gospel, through the redefinition and enlargement of the people of God, no longer exclusively as the people of Israel but as all who acknowledge the lordship of Christ – that is, to the church, in every country in the world. See, for example, the reinterpretation of Psalm 95 in Hebrews 3-4.

So are these promises of any application to the church? Do we have any right to claim them? Let’s look for a moment at 2 Chronicles 7:14: ‘If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land.’ It may be tempting to claim this promise of the healing of the land for our own countries in the 21st century. But the contemporary nation-state is not in any way comparable to the promised land. On the other hand, there are universal principles embedded in this promise – the principles that God always hears the prayers of his people who are called by his name, and that he will pour out his blessing on the church in response to their repentance and humble seeking after him.

The writer of the letter to the Hebrews presents Christians as pilgrims, travelling to another country. Referring to the Old Testament people of faith, he writes: ‘If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country – a heavenly one’ (11:15-16). So the Old Testament imagery of exodus and land has life in it yet. Christians are travelling, throughout their lives, through desert places, looking forward to the rest and security of our ultimate destination, in the new Jerusalem on the new earth.

For personal reflection:

Remembering the Exodus, meditate on this great hymn:

Guide me O thou great Jehovah,
Pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but thou art mighty;
Hold me with thy powerful hand:
Bread of heaven,
Feed me till I want no more.

Open now the crystal fountain,
Whence the healing stream doth flow;
Let the fiery, cloudy pillar
Lead me all my journey through:
Strong deliverer,
Be thou still my strength and shield.

When I tread the verge of Jordan,
Bit my anxious fears subside:
Death of death, and hell’s destruction,
Land me safe on Canaan’s side:
Songs of praises
I will ever give to thee.

Although there are no references to Christ and his work in this hymn, reflect on how the Israelites’ journey through the wilderness symbolises the pilgrimage of the Christian life.

For group discussion:

Read Galatians 3:6-14 and 4:26-29. In these chapters Paul is addressing believers who were insisting that Gentile converts, as well as putting their faith in Christ, should also obey the Old Testament law. Discuss Paul’s argument.

1. How did Jesus nullify ‘the curse of the law’?
2. Who are the beneficiaries?
3. Consider how this liberating truth should affect our everyday living.
4. Thank God in prayer.

For action:

In your own church fellowship look out for those whose race, colour, class and gender are different from yours. Seek to make friendships based on our oneness in Christ, and seek to broaden the membership of your home group and social circle.

Helen Parry

Archive...

Comments

Leave a comment