Category Archives: Scripture

Obedience, Prayer, and the Knowledge of God

Scripture

I came across this quote the other day in an essay on Moses:

And now we recognize for the first time just how deeply shaped Moses has become by the new story into which he has been inducted, and by his convictions about the character of the God who is authoring it. For at this crucial moment in his life his trust in God issues, not in obedience to God’s expressed will, but in argumentative prayer, in which he ‘reminds’ God of who he is and what he has been intent on doing in the world …

Thus we discover that Moses, like Abraham, before him…is able to penetrate to the heart of God and of the story that God is telling, even beyond some of God’s own words. Or perhaps he is actually exceedingly attentive to the true implication of God’s words, recognizing that ‘leave me alone’ (Exodus 32:10) in fact ‘leaves the door open for intercession.’ One way or another, Moses has learned well with whom he is dealing, and what is this person’s fundamental posture toward the world (Iain Provan “Moses: Man of God” in Houston & Zimmermann (eds), Sources of the Christian Self: A Cultural History of Christian Identity, 33).

I was struck by several things. First, the fact that our identity grows, develops and deepens over time in accordance with the story or stories of which we are part. Moses’ ongoing journey with God led him ever deeper into relationship with God and thereby deepening experiential knowledge of the divine character and purpose. Second, Provan makes much of Moses at prayer: thrust into seemingly impossible situations, he had come to depend upon God and to trust God, so much so that he became an intercessor, praying even for his enemies. Now, in this episode of the golden calf he again prays, standing against God’s expressed will (‘leave me alone!’) on behalf of the people who had betrayed and forsaken God. In this case he does not obey, but prays, calling upon something deeper that he knows about God’s character and purpose.

Finally, Provan’s contention that Moses and Abraham were able to penetrate to the heart of God ‘even beyond some of God’s own words’ is as insightful as it is provocative. I suspect that it would be easy to misuse this idea, claiming some deeper knowledge of God and his ways and thereby coopting God to our own agenda. Moses, in fact, rejected any personal advantage, the possibility that God would begin again with him, and appealed to the purpose of God revealed already in his covenantal dealings with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Moses set this word of God into the broader context of his overarching covenant promise, purpose, and word. Moses disobeyed this word of God in order to pray for the realisation of a deeper, richer divine purpose. Maybe, as Provan suggests, God was inviting Moses still deeper into the divine life and counsel. But make no mistake: in this instance, Moses withstood God even to the point of saying, “But now, if you will, forgive their sin—and if not, please blot me out from Your book which You have written!” (Exodus 32:32). Moses too was amongst this people in need of God’s mercy and forgiveness. How could God start again with him if he were willing to blot them out? He, too, was a sinner. Moses withstood God because he knew that God’s mercy was more fundamental than his wrath. He stood in the breach between God and God’s people, as one with God’s people, and equally in need of mercy. And he knew that God’s words must be set within the context of God himself, his enduring covenantal purpose, character, and act. “So the Lord changed his mind about the harm which He had said He would do to His people” (Exodus 32:14).

 

Scripture on Sunday – Mark 14:1-11

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This is surely one of the most poignant stories in Mark’s gospel, even more so given its setting. In this passage we see again something common in Mark’s gospel: one story inserted into another. Mark uses this ‘sandwich’ technique to highlight a common theme between the two stories, or alternatively, a contrast between them. In this instance, the beautiful story of a generous act of devotion (vv.3-9) contrasts with an overarching narrative of vicious conspiracy, hate, and betrayal (vv. 1-2, 10-11).

You can read the passage here.

We are in the final days of Jesus’ life. His religious opponents want to kill him, stealthily, for they are afraid of the people (cf. 11:32). The people considered that John Baptist was a prophet; they seem to have a similar or even higher regard for Jesus, especially as we consider their response to his entry into Jerusalem (11:1-10). The chief priests and scribes are pursuing their own agenda, one not shared by the people. That they were determined to act in secret should have been a warning to them that their intent was not ‘above board.’

Jesus was at the home of Simon (the leper!), reclining at table in the company of others. Mark does not say who these others are, though Matthew states quite plainly that it was the disciples (Matt. 26:8; cf. Luke 7:36ff). Perhaps Mark wanted to avoid this since he has already noted that the disciples have ‘left everything’ to follow Jesus (10:28).

(I prefer not to harmonise the accounts in the four gospels since they seem to have a different context and content, especially in Luke and John. This may reflect variance in the oral tradition or the gospel authors’ editorial purposes. Although an interesting question, it is one to explore some other time!)

During the meal an unnamed woman approached and poured expensive perfume over his head. We are given no motive for this act in Mark, no context. What has she done and why has she done it? What led to this? What was she seeking to express or communicate? What was she saying—for herself? What was she saying—to Jesus? Why here, why now? How did she have access to so great a treasure? Was it a spur of the moment act, or something well-considered? Will she, did she, later regret it? How would she explain it?

We don’t know. The woman never says a word. Others around the table, however, have plenty to say. They are indignant and critical:

“Why has this perfume been wasted? For this perfume might have been sold for over three hundred denarii, and the money given to the poor.” And they were scolding her (vv. 4-5).

We now see the extent of the woman’s act: 300 denarii was a year’s salary for the common labourer. This is an extraordinary, an outrageous, act; such a fortune, simply poured out! How much good this money might have done! How noble it would have been to give the money to the poor! How practical, how necessary! What a waste simply to pour it out!

And how virtuous the critics appear, quite prepared to do something with someone else’s money! It is too easy to sit in the critic’s chair, comfortable and uncommitted, non-participatory and non-productive. It is too easy to sit in the critic’s chair and to launch barbs at those who are active, who are committed, who are doing something. Such indignation and criticism provide a false sense that one is ‘doing’ something. It betrays a sense of superiority, of finer judgement, of better knowledge.

The critics perhaps feel secure, knowing that they are criticising someone socially inferior, a nameless woman, a ‘nobody.’ But Jesus defends the woman saying,

Let her alone. … For you always have the poor with you, and whenever you wish you can do good to them; but you do not always have me (vv. 6-7).

Is this a veiled rebuke from Jesus to the critics: “If this is so important to you, don’t just talk about it, nor criticise this woman: go do it!” Whenever you wish you can do good for the poor!

The story of the woman’s act stands in contrast to that of Judas, the chief priests and scribes, and the ‘others.’ Judas values Jesus as having some worth: he could be betrayed for some money. The chief priests and scribes ascribe ‘negative value’ to Jesus: he is a worthless person, a threat to be eliminated. The ‘others’ consider the woman’s act a ‘waste’ though Jesus says that she has done him a good deed (v. 6). She has, in a public act that appears to spring from gratitude and devotion, given him an outrageous gift, perhaps all she possessed (cf. 12:44)—and he has with gratitude received it and honoured her.

Nothing given to and for Jesus is ever wasted.

On Reading and Memorising Scripture

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In the third chapter of Psalms as Torah, Gordon Wenham argues that the Psalms should be understood as an anthology intended for memorisation. (I note that his point could and should probably be extended to all Scripture.) Drawing on the work of Paul J. Griffiths, Wenham distinguishes a ‘consumerist’ (modern) approach to reading from ‘religious reading.’ In the age of the printed book and of the internet, modern writings whether blogs or learned tomes are ephemeral, read, perhaps noted, and then discarded. They have no particular authority and different readers ascribe different value to them.

Religious reading, on the other hand, is different for the texts are treated with reverence as an ‘infinite resource,’ as a treasure house of wisdom, etc. As such, the words are read and re-read over and over and in time, tend to be committed to memory. “And as a reader memorizes a text, he becomes textualized; that is, he embodies the work that he has committed to memory”:

‘A memorized work (like a lover, a friend, a spouse, a child) has entered into the fabric of its possessor’s intellectual and emotional life in a way that makes deep claims upon that life, claims that can only be ignored with effort and deliberation.’ … A memorized text has a peculiarly character-forming effect on the memorizer. The text becomes part of his character; he lives in it and lives it out (Wenham, Psalms as Torah, 53, citing Paul J. Griffiths, Religious Reading, 46-47).

“Let the Word of Christ dwell in you richly,” said the apostle (Colossians 3:16). “Your word have I hidden in my heart” said the Psalmist (119:11).So, too, the Sage of Proverbs reminds us to “Give attention to my words; incline your ear to my sayings. Do not let them depart from your sight; keep them in the midst of your heart. For they are life to those who find them and health to all their body” (4:20-22). For “when you walk about, they will guide you; When you sleep, they will watch over you; and when you awake, they will talk to you. For the commandment is a lamp and the teaching is light; and reproofs for discipline are the way of life” (6:22-23).

Reading, praying, singing, and memorising the words of Scripture are character-forming, life-directing, and transformative. This is a good reminder for me at the start of 2023.

Happy New Year 😊

Scripture on Sunday – James 3:2

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James 3:2
For we all stumble in many ways. If anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able to bridle the whole body as well. (NASB)

The opening sentence of this verse continues the first-person plural of verse 1b, and may be read as though James continues his instruction concerning teachers. Verse one, however, is not addressing teachers directly but the congregation generally—‘my brothers and sisters’—about those who might consider becoming teachers. The congregation knows that ‘we’—teachers—will be subject to greater scrutiny in the judgement, and thus, not many (πολλοὶ) of them should become teachers. In this verse the ‘we’ returns to its general sense: “For we all stumble in many ways” (polla gar ptaiomen hapantes; πολλὰ γὰρ πταίομεν ἅπαντες)—James again, is addressing all his ‘brothers and sisters.’

This statement is a truism: each one of us continues to stumble in many ways (NASB) or, ‘over and over again’ (JB)—the polla can signify either meaning, and there is little between them. Although the way in which we stumble may differ from one person to the next—we do not all stumble in exactly the same way—each does stumble, and likely does so ‘over and over again.’ To ‘stumble’ seems to indicate relatively minor transgressions, what McKnight (274) refers to as ‘peccadillos.’ But even a minor transgression may become a more serious issue for the teacher whose more visible public role may mean that the stumble has greater or broader impact.

Now James will focus on a particular issue: while all may stumble in different ways, it is virtually inevitable that all will stumble with respect to their speech. This is, of course, particularly the case for teachers whose role involves a good deal of public speaking. Nevertheless, while “if anyone” (ei tis; εἴ τις) could certainly refer to teachers, it could equally refer to anyone at all. James is making a general statement that he will discuss further in what follows. “If anyone does not stumble in what he says” (en logō ou ptaiei; ἐν λόγῳ οὐ πταίει), literally, ‘in word’ (en logō) “he is a perfect man” (houtos teleios anēr; οὗτος τέλειος ἀνὴρ). Typically, James refers not to an abstract ‘sinless perfection,’ some indefinable or intangible ideal, but to a fully developed maturity of character. We have seen in 1:4 that to be teleios refers to mature character shaped by endurance in the face of trial and suffering. It is described as being complete or entire, lacking nothing. 1:25 suggests that such ‘perfection’ is the fruit of a life shaped by the ‘perfect (teleion) law of liberty,’ as one gazes into and practises the Word and is a doer of the work. Here, the ability to control one’s tongue so as not to stumble in word, is indicative of such maturity. Those able to bring the tongue into submission are also, according to James, “able to bridle the whole body as well” (dunatos chalinagōgēsai kai holon to sōma; δυνατὸς χαλιναγωγῆσαι καὶ ὅλον τὸ σῶμα). So difficult is it to control one’s tongue, that mastery here suggests a degree of self-control that is able to master one’s other passions and appetites as well.

This verse is a forceful reminder (Davids, 138) of 1:26 where, if one fails to ‘bridle’ (chalinagōgeō) one’s tongue, their religion is worthless. For James, a controlled tongue is central to genuine spirituality and indicative of maturity.

It is worth noting that James’ concern for the proper use of the tongue continues a prominent strand of reflection in Israel’s wisdom tradition and in the teaching of Jesus. It is worth noting also that while Scot McKnight’s argument that ‘body’ in 3:2 refers to the messianic community supports his contention that James is referring to and addressing teachers throughout this section, this seems an unlikely interpretation of the verse (276). James does not develop the ‘body’ metaphor for the church as Paul does in his writings, and makes no reference to this idea anywhere in his letter. And while it is true that James’ overall purpose is harmony in the congregation, he will arrive there by a different route.

Scripture on Sunday – James 3:1

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James 3:1
Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness.

With this verse James begins a new topic—or does he? It is possible to read the verse in connection with what has already been said, as though James is warning the church, and especially his interlocutor of 2:18ff., of the dangers of being a false teacher. But it seems more likely the beginning of a new section, as signalled by the words, “my brothers and sisters” (adelphoi mou; ἀδελφοί μου—cf. 1:2, 16, 19; 2:1, 5, 14), and perhaps one in which he is addressing those who would be or are presently, teachers in the congregation. But this, too, is somewhat problematic, since in verse two James begins a long argument for control of the tongue, with reference to teachers disappearing altogether. In the latter half of the chapter he deepens the discussion by considering the character of true wisdom and suggesting that only those who display the characteristics of the ‘wisdom from above’ may be considered truly wise. Again, there is no explicit reference to those who teach. The first verse, then, appears to be a fragment, the apparent commencement of a new section in the letter yet isolated from what follows. We have at least three options concerning how to interpret the verse:

  • As a single-verse admonition, disconnected both from what precedes and what follows it.
  • As the commencement of a new theme in which verses 2-12 are particularly directed toward would-be and actual teachers.
  • As connected more particularly to Vv. 13-18 which also addresses the leadership of the community, so that vv. 2-12 are viewed as a (not unrelated) digression, but with a more general intent than applying only to teachers.

It seems best to adopt the third option. James addresses the whole community, even in verse one, and not merely teachers alone, though what he says across both major sections of the chapter and especially the second, is relevant also to those who seek this ministry.

“Not many of you” (Mē polloi; Μὴ πολλοὶ), says James, “should become teachers” (didaskaloi ginesthe; διδάσκαλοι γίνεσθε). Of the whole community, only few should ‘become’ teachers. The idea of becoming a teacher in the early Christian communities could well be desirable: in a world with few opportunities for advancement, especially for those of the lower classes, the role of teacher promised increased status and reward (Davids, 136).

Was this a role to which anyone could aspire and so take to oneself? Or was one called to the role by God, with this call being recognised by the community, with the result that one was appointed to the task? The answer is probably both–and. On the one hand, Jesus, Paul, and presumably the other apostles recruited followers to learn the ways of the Christian life and ministry, and who were thereby equipped and appointed for service in the churches. On the other hand, in 1 Timothy 3:1 Paul makes a ‘trustworthy statement’ saying that anyone aspiring to the office of an overseer desires a fine work. It is possible, then, and even legitimate, for a person to seek such roles within the Christian community. It is noteworthy, though, that Paul qualifies this aspiration by noting first that it is the work more than the office itself, which is sought, and second, by listing the characteristics suitable for those who would serve in this way. Perhaps James intends something similar in this chapter; that is, by detailing the character, ethos, and practices of mature spirituality he provides a criterion for the community by which they might recognise those suitable for the role of teacher, and also a standard for the would-be teachers themselves.

The New Testament makes clear that while many people sought to be teachers not all were suitable. Some were accused of being ‘false’ teachers intent on leading others astray, others of having poor motivations, still others of having inadequate knowledge. As we shall see, James 3 suggests that there were those in his communities who were seeking this role within the churches for reasons other than the wellbeing of the people of God.

According to James, those who teach can expect a stricter judgement: “for you know (eidotes; εἰδότες) that we . . . will be judged with greater strictness” (hoti meizon krima lēmpsometha; ὅτι μεῖζον κρίμα λημψόμεθα). This reminder should serve to give pause to those intent on seeking a teaching ministry. Moo (119-120) suggests that the teacher will be subject to a closer scrutiny of both their doctrine and their life, for those who presume to teach are thereby claiming greater knowledge of Christian truth. The teacher has responsibility both for the content of their teaching and for their life which is to illuminate and exemplify what is taught. The content of the teaching is presumably, the word of truth (1:18), the perfect law of liberty (1:25), and the contours of ‘pure and undefiled religion’ (1:27). James does not reference either the gospel per se, or the ‘word of Christ,’ though his own reliance on Jesus’ teaching would suggest this. In broader canonical sense, however, one would have to speak of faithfulness to the apostolic witness, to the gospel, to the message of the New Testament. Not only must the teaching be sound with respect to knowledge and doctrine, but the teacher is to embody the message; their life is to display a congruence between word and work.

Jesus, too, in Mark 12:38-40, warned of a stricter judgement for those who abuse their positions of trust. Those who use their position as a vehicle to honour and personal advancement, or who use it exploit the vulnerable will “receive greater condemnation” (lēmpsontai perissoteron krima; λήμψονται περισσότερον κρίμα; cf. Luke 12:47-48).

Devotional Use of the Psalms

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Even I, by no means an Old Testament scholar, am familiar with the common suggestion that the first two psalms serve as an introduction to the whole book. I recall one reading from my undergraduate days in which the author mentioned this, and noted that the first psalm especially, but also the second, commended ‘theological reflection’ as the purpose of the psalms. This perspective was supplemented by other perspectives which suggested this purpose as prayer and praise, extended further by other views which located the meaning of the psalms in the liturgical structures of ancient Israel’s worship.

In his essay, “Towards a Canonical Reading of the Psalms,” Gordon Wenham argues similarly to the first of my undergraduate readings (See Wenham in, Bartholomew, Hahn, Parry, Seitz, and Wolters (eds), Canon and Biblical Interpretation Scripture & Hermeneutics series, Volume 7 (Paternoster), 333-351). Wenham does not suggest that a canonical reading is the only way in which to read and interpret the Psalms, but that it is fruitful and warranted to read them also in this way. His primary argument is that available evidence suggests a deliberate arrangement of the Psalter in which individual psalms are carefully situated within the whole, and sets the whole within a wisdom framework that also incorporates a prominent royal theme that raises questions concerning the Davidic dynasty and hope for a ‘New David’ in Israel’s future.

A canonical reading of individual psalms will read them with several contextual horizons in view:

  1. The whole Psalter, and especially the particular psalm’s near neighbours.
  2. The Jewish canon (i.e., the Hebrew Bible), and,
  3. The Christian canon of Old and New Testaments.

I found several of Wenham’s points very helpful for my own use of the psalms, and especially this citation from Gerald Wilson’s The Editing of the Hebrew Psalter which, to my mind, reclaims the Psalms from the sphere of the professional scholar for use by every member of the people of God.

The effect of the editorial fixation of the first psalm as an introduction to the whole Psalter is subtly to alter how the reader views and appropriates the psalms collected there. The emphasis is now on meditation rather than cultic performance; private, individual use over public, communal participation. In a strange transformation, Israel’s words of response to her God have now become the Word of God to Israel (336). 

Again, this is not a case of either private devotional use or public participation in communal worship. Although it may well be the case that the psalms had their origin in Israel’s liturgical life, this is not their meaning. The editors’ selection of Psalm 1 at the head of the Psalter has effected this ‘strange transformation.’ The opening psalm authorises a devotional approach, the reception of these words as God’s Word to his people which they may also use in their theological reflection, their prayer and worship, their lament and celebration, devotionally and privately as well as devotionally and corporately.

Scripture on Sunday – Ezekiel 23

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It has been quite some years since I last read Ezekiel, and at that time I found myself asking, “Will this book ever end?” One of the benefits of intentionally reading through the whole Bible is that you will read even those bits you may have avoided! This time around, I find Ezekiel captivating, absorbing. The book has not changed; I must have!

This morning I read chapter 23, the story of Oholah and Oholibah, two infamous sisters representing Samaria and Jerusalem, respectively. The prophecy is of brutal judgement on Jerusalem, similar to what occurred in Samaria. The allegory portrays the two kingdoms as wanton, prostituting themselves for favours and pleasure, but ultimately despised, mis-treated, and even killed by their lovers. Yahweh handed the Northern Kingdom of Israel over to the Assyrians. He will abandon Judah and Jerusalem to the Babylonians.

The language and imagery of the prophecy is sexually explicit, violent, and female. The two cities are portrayed as licentious women whose adulteries signify their alliances with foreign powers, and their participation in the nations’ idolatries. They lust after the ‘big swinging dicks’ of Assyria and Egypt—I read the chapter in the Jerusalem Bible where the translation of verses 19-20 is particularly vivid:

She began whoring worse than ever, remembering her girlhood, when she had played the whore in the land of Egypt, when she had been infatuated by profligates big-membered as donkeys, ejaculating as violently as stallions.

But the behaviour of these sisters is intended to disgust:

They have been adulteresses, their hands are dripping with blood, they have committed adultery with their idols. As for the children they had borne me, they have made them pass through the fire to be consumed. And here is something else they have done to me: they have defiled my sanctuary and have profaned my sabbaths. The same day as sacrificing their children to the idols, they have been to my sanctuary and profaned it. Yes, this is what they have done in my own house (vv. 37-39).

Thus, Yahweh calls for the sisters to be judged, violently shamed, and destroyed. They will be stoned, and hacked with the sword. They will be robbed, stripped, and left naked, their noses and ears cut off, their children slaughtered, their houses set on fire.

What are we to make of this language and imagery, of this kind of passage in the Holy Bible? I have not read any commentaries or studies on Ezekiel, nor any feminist interpretation or criticism of the passage. In light of the ongoing problem of violence against women in Australian society, I imagine that some will find this text distressing or offensive. Others will be at a loss; some, perhaps, will move on quickly to less disturbing, more amenable readings. How do we make sense of a passage like this?

Although I am a novice with respect to Ezekiel, I can offer some reflections. First, we must remember that the passage is an allegory and is speaking not of women per se, but of nations—the two kingdoms of Israel and Judah, and their capital cities, Samaria and Jerusalem. The imagery is metaphorical, and the (truly terrible) judgement is directed toward the nations not toward women in particular, although, the horror will fall on the female as well as the male members of these communities.

Second, the use of sexual language to portray covenantal faithfulness and faithlessness is not uncommon in the prophets (see, for example, Jeremiah 2-5; 31; Hosea 1-3; Ezekiel 16; cf. Song of Solomon). The covenantal relation between God and Israel is understood in terms of a marriage, with fidelity and betrayal understood spiritually rather than literally. Israel’s ‘adultery’ is its idolatry, its giving itself to another lord other than Yahweh. Ezekiel has laboured this point continually in his earlier chapters.

Nevertheless, that such explicit language and imagery is used in this passage suggests that rampant sexual immorality was also an issue in Judah, accompanying the practice of idolatry and the fruits of prosperity. Further, that Ezekiel intends to indict the women of Judah for their immorality is suggested in verse 48: “I mean to purge the land of debauchery; all the women will thus be warned, and ape your debauchery no more,” though I acknowledge that this reference to other ‘women’ could also be a reference to nations.

But why would Ezekiel target women with this criticism? Shouldn’t he more appropriately aim this criticism at men? Actually he does, in chapter 22:

Where there are people who eat on the mountains [= idolatry] and couple promiscuously [note the link between idolatry and sexual promiscuity]; where men uncover their father’s nakedness; where they force women in their unclean condition; where one man engages in filthy practices with his neighbour’s wife, another defiles himself with his daughter-in-law, another violates his sister, his own father’s daughter… (vv. 9-11).

The men, too, are condemned for their sexual activity, using language that suggests that they have abused their power, at times violating and forcing themselves on women. It is a truism that it ‘takes two to tango,’ but in some of these cases it was not the tango but rape. Nevertheless, sometimes and perhaps often, women were equal or willing participants in the activity, and Ezekiel has condemned both men and women for their immoral conduct, though admittedly, his language in the twenty-third chapter is more lurid.

This leads to a third observation: the prurient language used in this chapter might lead some to picture this predominantly as a female sin. This, of course, is nonsense and misrepresents the nature of the issue (it takes two…). Nevertheless, Christian history—and not merely Christian history—has repeatedly left the impression that female sexuality is dangerous, that women are wanton, wickedly seductive, and thus in need of corralling, suppression, and harsh treatment if they are caught acting ‘inappropriately’—however a particular culture will define that. This is problematic and has often led to the suppression of women per se, and not merely the ‘inappropriate’ activity concerned. Further, this perspective can used to legitimise the use of violence against women in the interests of deterrence, of redeeming the group from shame, of preserving or restoring one’s affronted honour, and so forth.

Here we arrive at the nub of the problem I raised earlier: the imagery used portrays God using retributive violence against the sisters which seems to legitimise such violence against women. And here, I can only note that (i) he is speaking of nations, not of women; (ii) that this is a prophecy of divine judgement which is a divine prerogative—and here we must consider the divine abhorrence of the kinds of sins clearly delineated in Ezekiel; (iii) that the text is clearly allegorical and imaginative, not meant to be taken with a wooden literalness; and (iv) that other texts, especially Malachi 2:17, declare God’s hatred with respect to male-on-female violence. I might also note that in Ezekiel’s culture, it is the male who acts publicly, who wields power. By identifying the nation as a degenerate woman, the prophet is mocking and shaming the men. These observations only serve to place this problem in a larger setting, and do not fully mitigate the issue. Unfortunately, those bent on abusing their power will likely seek any justification they can for their actions, and fail to heed any interpretation that challenges their assumption.

Finally, as we think of the implications of this passage for contemporary application, the analogy is properly applied to the church rather than a modern nation-state, for it is the church who are God’s covenanted people. The church, therefore, is warned against throwing herself at the world, seeking its favours and pleasures, selling its soul and body for its approval. God’s terrible judgement was directed against his people—something we dare not forget.

 Photo Credit:
 Elena Maximova in Carmen (Royal Opera House), October 2015
 Photo by Catherine Ashmore; Posted by Opera Montajes

Scripture on Sunday – James 3:18

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James 3:18
And the seed whose fruit is righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace (NASB).

And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace (NRSV).

There are several connections between this verse and the one that precedes it, most notably the references to peace and to fruit. The wisdom from above is ‘full of mercy and good fruits,’ while this verse speaks of the ‘fruit (harvest) of righteousness.’ More prominent is the reference to peace (eirēnē; εἰρήνῃ) which echoes—and amplifies—the second of wisdom’s characteristics. James commenced his reflections on wisdom with the question posed in verse thirteen, Who is wise and understanding among you? He concludes with a short aphorism that answers the question: those who make peace. This prominent characteristic stands in contrast to the disorder and evil that arises because of selfish ambition and jealousy (v. 16).

The ‘harvest of righteousness’ (karpos de tēs dikaiosunēs; kαρπὸς δὲ τῆς δικαιοσύνης) is an image used in both the Old and the New Testaments to speak of the blessings that attend the life of the righteous. It may be James has Isaiah 32:15-20 in mind. When ‘the Spirit is poured upon us from high,

The effect of righteousness will be peace, and the result of righteousness, quietness and trust forever. My people will abide in peaceful habitation, in secure dwellings, and in quiet resting places’ (vv. 17-18).

While James does not mention the Spirit in this section, many commentators suggest that his references to the wisdom from above function in a manner similar to the work of the Spirit. The text in Isaiah brings together references to the Spirit ‘from above,’ fruitfulness, righteousness, peace, and sowing (cf. Isaiah 48:17-18; Proverbs 11:30; Amos 6:12). In Philippians 1 Paul prays that the church’s love might so abound with knowledge and discernment, that they would approve what is excellent, and so be ‘filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ to the glory and praise of God’ (vv. 9-11). Both the Isaianic and the Philippians texts refer to a corporate blessing upon the community of God’s people in which they are both secure and fruitful.

Yet James’ text also differs from that in Isaiah. Whereas Isaiah speaks of peace as the fruit of righteousness, James speaks of the fruits of righteousness as ‘sown in peace’ (en eirēnē speiretai; ἐν εἰρήνῃ σπείρεται). Here the work of peace, itself a fruit of wisdom, is prior to the harvest of righteousness, and a condition for its growth. Further, this harvest is sown by or for those who make peace (tois poiousin eirēnēn; τοῖς ποιοῦσιν εἰρήνην). Almost all English Bible versions translate the preposition by, while many or perhaps even most commentators prefer to translate it for (Vlachos, 126). The former alternative, a rare construction in the Greek New Testament, lays the emphasis on the agency of the those doing the work of making peace. The latter alternative, more common in Greek, emphasises the blessings gained or to be enjoyed by those who make peace. To me, the context seems to favour the first, more difficult alternative. In contrast to the kind of ambitious leadership that fosters division, jealousy, and disorder, those who make peace create the environmental conditions in which righteousness can flourish. Or to state the matter differently: the fruits of righteousness cannot be nurtured except by those who serve in a righteous manner, that is, peaceably, and in accordance with the wisdom which is from above.

It will be noted that James’ words here echo Jesus’ seventh beatitude: Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called sons of God (Matthew 5: 9). Evidently, they shall be called children of God because their work of peacemaking makes them like God. They are doing the work of God, bearing the likeness and character of God, and exhibiting and carrying forth the priorities of God. The activity of making peace makes them like the Son of God who in and through ‘the blood of his cross’ was reconciling all things to God and ‘making peace’ (Colossians 1:20). The kingdom of God is a kingdom of peace (Romans 14:17). Therefore, all Christians are to ‘pursue what makes for peace’ (Romans 14:19), and indeed, ‘as much as it depends on [them], live peaceably with all’ (Romans 12:18). All this pertains because God himself is not the author of confusion but of peace (1 Corinthians 14:33). Again, the coming of Christ intended ‘peace on earth among those with whom he is pleased’ (Luke 2:14),

because of the tender mercy of our God, whereby the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace (Luke 1:78-79 ESV).

In a world filled with jostling, discord, violence, and war, God desires communities of peace, reconciliation, wholeness, and welfare. The task of the wise and spiritual leader, therefore, includes this task of nurturing communities of peace by working peacefully and unselfishly, seeking concord, practising humility and all the virtues enumerated in verse seventeen.

Scripture on Sunday – James 3:17

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James 3:17
But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy.

In this verse James sets the ‘wisdom from above’ (hē de anōthen sophia; ἡ δὲ ἄνωθεν σοφία) in stark contrast with that wisdom which is ‘earthly, unspiritual, and demonic’ (v.15). The ‘from above’ echoes 1:17, and shows that this wisdom is one of the good gifts given by the father of lights. In fact, the verse picks up many themes already mentioned in the letter, showing that the whole of James’ letter is a sample of that ‘wisdom which is from above.’ If true religion is ‘pure’ (1:27) and gentle (3:13), so also is wisdom. Just as mercy ‘triumphs over judgement,’ so this wisdom will be merciful in its judgements. It is unwavering (1:6-8) or impartial and without hypocrisy (chapter 2).

I noted in my comments on verse 13 what wisdom is: “the God-given ability of the transformed heart to discern and to practice God’s will” (Bauckham, James: Wisdom of James, Disciple of Jesus the Sage, 152). In this verse James will describe what wisdom does, or perhaps better, the effects true wisdom produces in the life of the one who embraces it (Moo, 135).

James speaks of wisdom not in terms of speculative insight into the mysteries of the world or the divine, nor pragmatic wisdom for success in life, but in terms of virtue. The virtues listed include some which are relational in nature (peaceable, gentle, and reasonable) and others which refer to the character or works of the agent (pure, merciful, unwavering, without hypocrisy, and full of good works). Together they provide a perspective into what characterises a wise and virtuous life.

The first and primary characteristic of wisdom is its purity (prōton men hagnē estin; πρῶτον μὲν ἁγνή ἐστιν), a term which for Moo connotes moral blamelessness (135), and for Davids, the unmixed motives of the single-hearted person who serves only God (154). Moo interprets the word in accordance with its use in the New Testament generally, where it refers to the inner purity and moral excellence appropriate for God and for his people. It is noteworthy that the Stoics also referred to the wise as the agnoi (BDAG, 11-12). Nevertheless, in view of the immediate context in which James challenges those who only appear spiritual but who in fact serve with impure motives, and in view of the reference to the ‘double-minded’ in 4:8, it seems better to follow Davids here, though without dismissing Moo’s insight that purity is also a key concern for James (cf. 1:27). That James refers to purity first and subsequently develops his list with a then (epeita; ἔπειτα῎), not only suggests that purity is the first in a series, but also the head waters from which the rest of the virtues flow (see Vlachos, 125).

The next three virtues listed by James (peaceable, gentle, willing to yield) all begin with an e sound, while the final two terms (without partiality and without hypocrisy) all begin with an a sound. James is presenting an alliterative and rhythmic list probably with the intent of rendering it memorable.

The first, ‘peaceable’ (eirēnikē; εἰρηνική) simply means peace-loving and is set in contrast to the disorder and contention spoken of in verse 16 (see NIDNTT, 2:780). It is a characteristic ‘conducive to harmonious and salutary relationship’ (Danker, Bibleworks). ‘Gentle’ translates epieikēs (ἐπιεικής) which BDAG gives a range of possible meanings: yielding, gentle, kind, courteous, tolerant (292; also Vlachos, 125 who suggests that in essence it denotes noncombativeness). The final term is eupeithēs (εὐπειθής), translated in the NRSV as ‘willing to yield’ or as ‘open to reason’ in the ESV, perhaps indicating a readiness to listen or to engage in dialogue, though see BDAG (324) where it is rendered obedient or compliant. Wisdom is peaceable because it is gentle and open to reason (Moo, 136). James certainly is not referring to contexts where false teaching is in play, or to a person without convictions, but the character of the wise and understanding person of verse 13 whose life displays this ‘meekness of wisdom.’

The second set of virtues mercy and good fruits (eleous kai karpōn agathōn; ἐλέους καὶ καρπῶν ἀγαθῶν) are coupled together with the word mestē (μεστὴ), ‘full of.’ If the uncontrolled tongue is ‘full of’ deadly poison (v. 8), wisdom is ‘full of’ mercy and good fruits. James has already spoken of mercy as that practical love which shows itself in action, in ‘works’ (2:8-13, 14-26). He uses the word fruit here in place of works perhaps to indicate the organic effect of wisdom, though the use of erga (works) in verse 13 clearly shows that the two terms are functionally equivalent.

A final couplet completes the list: ‘without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy’ (adiakritos, anupokritos; ἀδιάκριτος, ἀνυπόκριτος). These terms also clearly refer to the material dealt with in the second chapter: those who would be genuinely spiritual leaders cannot fall into the failures and sins addressed there. Adiakritos, however, might also be translated ‘unwavering,’ and so refer to the unstable person of 1:6-8. Both terms refuse any form of duplicity in one’s own character and in one’s relations with others.

The overall impact of James’ list is that the wisdom which is from above is characterised by relational virtues and practices that build community, foster relationships, make space for others with forbearance and gentleness, and is open to listen, reason, and dialogue. This wisdom seeks to benefit others at the expense of self, and as such is the equivalent of the love that Paul describes in 1 Corinthians 13. Many commentators note that what James attributes to wisdom in this passage functions as the Spirit does in Paul’s writing (e.g. Davids, 154; Moo, 135). Earthly, natural, and demonic wisdom tears at the fabric of community, abusing relations and chooses rather to serve self. In contrast, the wisdom which is from above is an active wisdom, responding to the needs of others in mercy and generous service, without partiality, prejudice, or discrimination, and without pretence or insincerity. This is a wisdom that conforms the wise and understanding person to the life and priorities of the one God, and of the kingdom which is above. The wise person is meek and peaceable, good and generous, exhibiting the gracious character of the God from whom this wisdom comes, all the while exhibiting also the holiness and purity that befits his children.

Scripture on Sunday – James 3:16

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James 3:16
For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will also be disorder and wickedness of every kind.

In this highly compressed saying James reiterates and summarises the point he has made in verses 14-15 where he warned his listeners that jealousy and envy, selfish ambition and rivalry are a form of wisdom ‘from below’—‘earthly, natural, and demonic.’ The Greek text has no verbs and so heightens the emphasis on place: ‘for where (hopou gar; ὅπου γαρ) jealousy and selfish ambition, there (ekei; ἐκει) disorder and every evil thing’ (Vlachos, 124). There is a sense of inevitability in the admonition, a warning of an unbroken link between cause and effect. Wherever this kind of ‘wisdom’ is operative there will also be these effects which are destructive to the life of the community, and a contradiction of its essential nature.

The first of the effects is disorder (akatastasia; ἀκαταστασία), also translated in some versions as ‘confusion’ (NKJV) or ‘disharmony’ (NJB). The term is used in an adjectival form (akatastatos; ἀκατάστατoσ) in 1:8 and 3:8 to describe the instability of the double-minded man, and the restlessness of the untamed tongue. In 1 Corinthians 14:33 Paul uses it to argue that God is not the author of confusion (akatastasias; ἀκαταστασίας) but of peace, and in his gospel Luke uses it with reference to ‘tumults’ (Luke 21:9). Instead of a community life that is peaceable and well-ordered, there may be instead a fracturing of harmony with outbreaks of disturbances and dissension.

A second result of jealousy and selfish-ambition is ‘every evil thing’ (pan phaulon pragma; πᾶν φαῦλον πρᾶγμα), or perhaps, every evil practice (ESV, NIV). All manner of evil accompanies the outbreak of disorder in the community.

So, too, envy is particularly deadly. James, in these verses, may be influenced by Wisdom 2:24: ‘It was the devil’s envy that brought death into the world, as those who are his partners will discover’ (NJB). So, too, Matthew notes that ‘Pilate knew it was out of jealousy’ that the chief priests and elders of the people had handed Jesus over (Matthew 27:18). The final command of the Decalogue acts to counter the problem of envy. If Paul finds in the love of money the root of all evil, James sees it more fundamentally as the fruit of envy. The two concepts are not far removed from each other, and while James’ emphasis appears to be on would-be teachers and leaders in the community, their motivation is often the acquisition of status and the financial rewards that accompany such elevation.