A Difference That Makes a Difference Part II

From a seminar at Bethel Seminary on Uses of the OT in the N

In Revelation, John reiterates many of the promises that God gives in the Old Testament. For example, just as God promises to “create a new heaven and a new earth” in Isaiah, John sees the “new Jerusalem” coming down from heaven and hears Jesus proclaim, “Behold, I make all things new” (Rev 21:5). Yet, as with the OT prophecies, Revelation describes something that is yet to come—something that will occur in the future. So, if we already have the yet-future promises given to us in the Old Testament, why do we need the promises in Revelation? Is Revelation telling us something that the Old Testament isn’t already telling us?  

Yes, indeed, the appointment of God’s son as “the heir of all things,” who is the very “radiance of” his glory “and the exact imprint of his nature” (Heb 1:2-3). Notwithstanding the promise of a New Heaven and New Earth” in both Is 65:17-25 and Rev 21, Graeme Goldsworthy is on to something in his observation that in light of “the two-stage exile to Assyria and Babylon,” the promises of God issued in Isaiah did not come to fruition in Jewish history (outside of Jesus, that is) but only remain future oriented.  Goldsworthy, noting that “while Israel clung to the promises that God’s glory would again return,” ‘nowhere in second temple literature [except, of course, for the New Testament] is it asserted that this has happened [the return to God’s glory to Israel, as depicted in Isaiah 65]; therefore, it still remains in the future. The exile is not really over” (Goldsworthy, Christ-Centered Biblical Theology, 130.  The embedded Wright citation is from The New Testament and the People of God, 269).

As noted in the question, the promises of New Heaven and New Earth in both Isaiah and Revelation are yet to be realized, so is there a difference in the promises of Isaiah and Revelation that makes a difference? While the answer may be obvious based on the citation from Hebrews, which could be gleaned as well from the prologue to John’s gospel, can we say something more precise about any difference that actually makes a difference?

Let’s address the seriousness of the question—the futurity of God’s kingdom as eschatological promise—as Eden restored and transformed.  Interpreting Revelation from the perspective of Boyarin, it’s plausible to see the last book of the NT as an early Christian midrash writ large on Isaiah’s most far reaching proclamations, in which God’s servant will “be a light for the nations that my salvation may reach to the ends of the world” (Is 49:6).  While there are technical and highly precise definitions of what qualifies as a legitimate midrash, Boyrain’s more general (and generous) interpretation, cited below, allows it to be instructive here.

“Although a whole library could (and has been) written on midrash, for the present purposes, it will be sufficient to define it as a mode of biblical reading that brings disparate passages and verses together in the elaboration of new narratives.”

Further:

“The rabbis who produced the midrashic way of reading considered the Bible one enormous signifying system, any part of which could be taken as commenting on or supplementing any other part” (The Jewish Gospels, 76).

Thus, a Jewish scholar might say something along the following: The second temple followers of The Way created a messianic figure through a two-step already/not yet eschatological promise through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, who, in his earthly ministry was at most an ambiguous figure who some viewed as a prophet, some as a messiah and others as a charlatan. While there is much in the life and the heroic death of Jesus of Nazareth to admire—and yes, even to emulate—nonetheless, since there are so many of the prophetic promises that he did not fulfill—we can only wait for the true messiah.  In creating a two-stage fulfillment promise, followers of The Way created a safety hedge in which the full reality of their messiah would only be fulfilled when the new heavens and new earth finally descends.  We have a different understanding of the role of the messiah.

 An in-depth response is beyond the bounds of what can be addressed in this format, yet a few things can be said.  While Boyaron makes an excellent case in illustrating how some of the most cherished Christian beliefs, even the Incarnation, have their roots in the broader second temple literature, history, and theological traditions, it is in the composite depiction of Jesus the Christ throughout the NT that speaks of his authenticity at least for the millions that have been so persuaded over the centuries.   Boyrain brings much astute scholarship in making the case that, in one sense, there was nothing new in such second temple notions of the merger of messianic conquering Davidic king (son of God) and Isaianic Suffering Servant, as well as an incarnated son of man, as depicted in Daniel.  N. T. Wright has argued similarly. The novum of tremendous proportions, however, is their merging in the singular figure of Jesus Christ, when combined with the life, teaching, healing, and miracles of Jesus as depicted in the gospels and the entirety of the insights on the relationship between the Risen One and the life of his disciples in the various church communities as highlighted in the letters. 

What stands out for me is the authenticity of the depicted character, as summarized in the early NT liturgy (Phil 2:5-11).  If in this character, the exact imprint of God’s nature is enfleshed, we do have a high priest who embraces us more intimately than we or our closest companions could possibly do.  More could be said.  In the final analysis, it is a matter of faith and calling.  

“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit he cannot enter the kingdom of God…. Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.  The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit” Viewed (John 3:5, 7-8 .  

Stated otherwise, the authenticity of the already resonates with the profound depths in what is anticipated in the not yet.  For "faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen (Heb 11:1). 

Viewed in a more contemporary voice, 

“There is no continuous movement from an objective inquiry into the life of Jesus to a knowledge of him as the Christ who is our Lord.  Only a decision of the self, a leap of faith, a metanoia or revolution of the mind [and, of course, a calling, itself, from the Spirit] can lead from observation to participation and from observed to lived history.   And this is true of all other events in sacred history (H. R. Niebuhr, 1941, The Meaning of Revelation, 83).  

A Difference that Makes a Difference Between the Role of the Holy Spirit in the OT & NT

  From a seminar at Bethel Seminary titled, Use of the OT in the NT Part I

Lecture Five, various assigned and unassigned biblical passages, and certain sections in this week’s secondary reading highlight the centrality of the Spirit of God as an underlying source of communication to God’s people in both testaments.  In short, the Holy Spirit, like the New Covenant was not a New Testament innovation—nor is a great deal else according to the various authors we are encountering in this course.  The breaking in of the Spirit of God as a  foundational event in both testaments testifies to its centrality, namely, the descent of the Holy Spiirt in Acts 2:2-3 at Pentecost as the disciples awaited their marching orders from the risen Christ, and at the instruction of the great Lawgiver after issuing the Ten Commandments from Mount Sinai, where “the Lord spoke…out of the midst of the fire [where] you heard the sound of the words, but saw no form, you only heard a voice” (Deut 12:11-12).  Through resonating language and imagery, both events heralded a theophany of God of major proportions, in which God emphatically spoke to God’s people (https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/the-ultimate-theophany/).

 The articulation of the breaking in of the Holy Spirit at the inauguration of the early church is depicted in Peter’s first sermon as the fulfillment of Joel’s prophecy that God will pour down his Spirit on his people—a vision in both texts is characterized by dreams, prophecy, and visions.  The common key event is the “pouring down of God’s Spirit on all flesh” with wonders in the heavens above and signs in the earth beneath” (NKJV).  Whatever minor variations, Peter (Luke) made in appropriating Joel’s last days prophecy may be significant for certain exegetical purposes, the main point here is the pouring down of God’s Spirit as reflected in Acts 2: 17-21 and Joel 2:28-32.  While there may be no qualitative difference in the theophonous power of the most holy God that inhabited both Joel and Luke (Peter), a significant difference resides in the focal point of each text; namely, in Acts, “the miracles, wonders, and signs… God did through him (added emphasis) whom God raised up, having loosened the pains of death, because it was not possible that he should be held by it” Acts 2:22-24).

 As noted in the Lecture and elsewhere, the emphasis on the Spirit of God was more than a passing phenomenon in the OT, rooted in Israel’s deepest discourse, particularly passages in Deuteronomy, Isaiah, and Psalm 119, to say nothing of the profound pathos of Hosea 11.  The emphasis on the holiness of God is a central OT theme—one that underlies and presupposes the power of the Spirit of God.  One approach to this question is to explore the deepest themes of each testament in which God spoke to his people. This emphasis reinforces the argument of Boyarin that Christianity, however unique on its own terms, is one important variant within the religious culture of Second Temple Judaism, in which, if we are able to move back a bit from the pervasive Judaism/Christianity polarity, we would grasp profound commonalities that have the capacity to enrich both faith traditions.  The Spirit of the Lord speaking to God’s people is one such commonality.

In accepting all of this, I still want to speak of a distinction of no minor consequence, as highlighted in the Acts 2:22-24 citation, namely, the linkage of the Holy Spirit to Jesus Christ, the Son of Man, the Son of God, the Lord of human history.  On this, Romans 8:9-11 is a favorite passage of mine, in which the Spirit of God and Spirit of Christ are mutually highlighted. Verse 11 merits particular mention: “But if the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, He who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through His Spirit who dwells in you.”  Clearly, it is God, the father, who does the raising, but is it Christ, the Son who dwells with us and gives life to our mortal bodies. 

 In his discussion of Daniel 7, Enoch, and Fourth Ezra, Boyarin did a nice job in demonstrating various late second temple manifestations of an incarnational understanding of God in two persons, in which the vision of Jesus in Acts and throughout the NT is one such manifestation. Fair enough as far as it goes, in which one could evaluate this common second temple discourse from a purely historical, third person perspective, but what, in itself, would that have to do with any first-person significance, with which one needs to come to grips for any personal encounter with the still living Christ. 

 While other texts could be drawn, consider the stunning passages in John 14-17 and the interlacing of the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit, in which “the helper” mediates God’s presence to believers through his Son. Key verses include 14:6, 9-11, 15:1-10, 26, 16: 23-24 and the entirety of Ch 17, in which the faithful are intimately invited into divine communion with Father and Son. 

 “And the glory which You gave Me I have given them, that they may be one just as We are one:  I in them, and You in Me; that they may be made perfect in one, and that the world may know that You have sent Me, and have loved them as You have loved Me” (John 17:22-23).

 Throughout all of these passages, the Holy Spirit is a central presence, sometimes spoken of, sometimes not in the intermingling discourse of the three persons of the Trinity, in which we get to participate.  This is clearly a novum of major proportions.  However much the roots of this Trinitarian discourse are grounded in an overarching second temple historical, textual, and religious common idiom, the differences are significant enough—including the differences in the particular manifestation of the Holy Spirit that through the living Christ a difference that has made a difference in the lives of millions over the millennia, has come into the world.

 

Extra Biblical Jewish Tradition

 From a seminar at Bethel Seminary on Use of the Old Testament in the New Testament

In light of Matthew’s knowledge of extra-biblical Jewish tradition (as reflected in post-NT texts such as the Targum and the Mishnah), how familiar do you think New Testament readers should be with Jewish (i.e., non-Christian) literature? That is, beyond the Old Testament, do you think New Testament readers should be spending time reading Jewish literature? Why or why not?

Context is the critical factor in responding to this important question, namely, what are one’s motivations in reading the NT and how does such knowledge factor in.

I can imagine for more than a few faith-seeking/faith embracing adults whose primary motivation is spiritual edification, drawing broad connections between NT and OT passages facilitated by well written study Bible may be sufficient.  With a singular focus on attaining an ever deeper walk with the Lord, there may not be need for more, though within the context of a church-based educational plan, for courses or workshops providing background knowledge of the life of Jesus, additional information might be well received.  At the least, this would include knowledge about the diverse groups that are mentioned in the NT—Pharisees and Scribes, as well as some knowledge of the Essenes and the Dead Sea Schools.  Given that most of the OT references in the NT are drawn from the Septuagint, some knowledge of that, including sample comparative passages with the Hebrew text might be of value.  Such a comparative reading may offer some valuable insights into the NT that would not be accessible without the comparison.

For other adults seeking a deeper walk with the Lord, biblical and related-historical knowledge could play a more pivotal role in sustaining a high-level faith formation.  Thus, someone with a more cerebral orientation might want to know why the OT portions of their Protestant Bibles are not based on the English translation of the Septuagint rather than the Masoretic text.  This could open up questions about the Council of Jenna (96 AD) and the shaping of the Christian canon, including differences between Protestant and Catholic and Orthodox resolutions.  More broadly, our cerebral-focused faith walker might appreciate a deeper understanding of the Second Temple Judaic period, a curiosity that could be opened up through reading N. T. Wright’s masterful The New Testament and the People of God or Jesus and the Victory of God.  Wright’s texts provide commentary on the wide ranging Jewish literature discussed in Beale and Boyarin.

To kick this up a notch, for those teaching in Christian adult contexts or for those preaching the Word, a reasonable working knowledge of the extra-Biblical Jewish texts, could be additionally helpful, all things being equal, which they seldom are.  Much of this information could be learned contextually, as teachers and preachers consult various sources in preparing specific teaching topics or sermon series.  Even still, in Christ-Centered Biblical Theology, Goldsworthy offers an important insight, namely:

“We have recognized the value of intertestamental texts for understanding the history and culture of the Jews and thus as background to the New Testament.  However, in the canonical perspective, irrespective of the value of the literary works of the period, the prophetic value of these texts is nil” (p. 65).

That’s strong, and may be overstated, but not too much, if one accepts the Bible, in its current canonical form, as the primary source of the revealed Word of God, then the canon, itself should remain the primary source of focus, even while accepting the value of the extra-biblical Jewish sources, as not only providing historical and textual “background” knowledge, but also for additional illumination on the OT and NT texts that might not be otherwise available.

 In his interpretation of the extra-biblical literature, Boyarin has cogently argued in his reading of Daniel 7 on the relationship between the Ancient of Days (God) and the Son of Man, an incarnational interpretation of God enjoyed respectable currency in the Second Temple literature outside of the OT and NT.  On this he notes, the primary contribution of Christianity was its recognition that Jesus, the Messiah was portrayed as God in human flesh.  That there were anticipations of a Messiah, an incarnational theology, and an apocalyptic longing for the coming of the Lord throughout the extra-biblical literature was a given. That’s a valuable insight that can evoke a spirit of understanding, humility, awe, and capacity to enter into respectful interfaith discussions with interested members of the Jewish faith.  Arguably, it is not absolutely necessary for an in-depth appreciation of the Christian faith on its own terms, though it can be helpful.

With these last points folded in among those with specialized interests, the extra-biblical knowledge may have additional value.  With those possessing a more theological orientation, one might want a reasonable working knowledge of this literature to better contextual the Bible and the historical background of both Judaism and Christianity, in which Wright’s texts provide a good deal of that background information.  The theologically oriented faith walker might concentrate more on biblical theology, as exemplified by Goldsworthy, than thick exegesis itself, which seems to be more of the focus of this course. 

That leaves those seeking specialized biblical knowledge for which the literature highlighted in this course opens up invaluable insight.  For those with that interest, the studies introduced here provide useful background for in-depth biblical interpretation.  As exemplified in Beale, even for this group, work would need to extend beyond exegesis, enter into critical dialogue with biblical, historical, and systematic theology, and into the life of the church community.  The extra-biblical Jewish literature could factor into all of these dialogues, but finding pathways into them related to such purposes would be a most critical challenge that would take a variety of forms.

Context matter.

 

The Johannine Community

 From a course I am auditing on Bethel Seminary on the Letters of John

Reflections on the Johannine Community

The Letters of John represent an important component of the literature that comprised what scholarly tradition refers to as the Johannine community, which includes the Gospel of John and perhaps Revelation.  By-passing the latter text, Burge refers to this as a “Johannine school or community or circle” (1) rooted in various locations around Ephesus. Despite differences in focus, the Gospel and the Letters share a common dualistic world view—that of either being inside the beloved community, rooted in the spirit and Incarnation of Christ, and bathed in God’s love, or that of being outside the community, consigned to darkness, whether that be the blindness of the Synagogue (the narrative body of the Gospel of John) or that of the so called, proto-Gnostic, “secessionists” (1, 2 Letters of John) who, in radicalizing the spiritual and material realm, refused to identify the Christ with Jesus in the flesh.  In this, as far as can be drawn from the extant evidence, the opponents of 1 John rejected both the Incarnation and the atonement—the “blood,” in the terminology of 1 John. As reflected in the Gospel, the “darkness, persecution, and turmoil” (Burge Location 386, Kindle) portrayed in the text stemmed from an external source, extremely sharp conflict with the synagogue, as particularly heightened in John 8:31-58.

 By contrast, especially in 1 John, “the once unified congregation,” (Ibid.) (assuming that was the actual state of affairs) began to tear apart from within) over “the proper acknowledgement of [the person] of Jesus” on the relationship to his earthly existence in the flesh (1 John 4:2) and “in his relationship to God as Father and in his mission” (Lieu 9). This was in regard to the Incarnation and atonement, as reflected in the theological high points of the Gospel, and to the significance of his teachings,  as well as the signs, as reflected throughout much of narrative body of the Gospel.

 In terms of working out some of the relationships between the Gospel and the Letters, the focus of their respective antagonistic diatribes may offer gist for some intriguing speculation, though it needs to be acknowledged that the relative silence of the sources remains an ongoing interpretive problem.  The literature points to a Greek and Jewish ethnic mix within the Johannine community, though that leaves open why the Gospel emphasized the Synagogue Jews while 1 and 2 John referenced the proto-Gnostics. Was that a matter of historical time (about a 10-15-year difference between the earlier Gospel and the later Letters?).  Was this a matter of divergence of location of the specific communities within the various Johannine circles?  

 Perhaps in some circles, the relationship between the claims of the Christ camp and the Pharisees were uppermost, most evidently an external foe, though I wonder if there was a muted internal threat—a Jewish analogue to the proto-Gnostics—in the Gospel reflected in the character of Nicodemus as perhaps an interior Jewish-Christian voice that played some significant role throughout the Gospel. Thus, could the writer of 1 and 2 John have had a particular localized focus where the proto-Gnostic challenge to the faith of the saints, at least to the writer and his immediate circle (the “I” and the “we” of 1 John) became the salient matter? I raise the relationship between the Gospel and the Letters because the primary antagonist of each points to the potential audiences each is seeking to address, even as the difference between the two leaves open many intriguing questions.

 The challenge becomes an increasingly intertextual one if one accepts the suggestion by Burge and Lieu that there may be a redactional relationship between the two bodies of texts. On this view, various stories of Jesus were circulating among the Johannine community, many of which ultimately comprised the narrative core of the Gospel.  Eventually the Prologue (1:1-14) and Farewell Discourses (14-17) were added, both of which included a stronger emphasis on the incarnation (Jesus in the flesh). These additions gave the Gospel of John the canonical legitimacy to argue against any appropriation of this Gospel by the various schools of Gnostic thought that were circulating around the first several centuries before the formal adaption of the Incarnation and the Trinity at the various church counsels of the 4^th and 5^th centuries. On this interpretation, these texts were added to the Gospel in response to the tensions experienced by those within the immediate circle of the writer of 1 and 2 John. Thus, the shift in the antagonistic foe from an external enemy reflected in the Gospel’s portrayal of “the Jews” to that of an internal enemy reflected in the secessionist, proto-Gnostics required, as reflected within 1 John, an emphasis on the Incarnation and atonement, were redacted into the later editing of the Gospel of John.

 Sources:

Burge, Gary, M. John, Letters of. In Martin, Davids. Dictionary of the Later New Testament & Its Developments: A Compendium of Contemporary Biblical Scholarship. Dictionary of the Later New Testament & Its Developments. Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 2010.

Burge, Gary M. The New Application Commentary: Letters of John. Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1998. Kindle

Lieu, Judith, I, II, and III John: A Commentary. Westminster: John Knox Press, 2008.