Biblical Studies

What I enjoy about the final section of the Pentateuch is that the summation of what has been taught to Israel through this giving of the Law and in the manifestation of the presence of the Lord by way of signs and wonders is to garner a response from God’s people. Quite obviously, this place of response is not without significant influence and persuasion from YHWH. The response is to choose to take on the covenant with YHWH or no (Deut 30:19). I think this is one of the most significant themes concluding the Torah.

I did a little investigating into the Hebrew word for “choose,” bahar, because my theology is such that our very salvation and any ability to choose God, comes directly from God. Aquinas articulated this as operative and cooperative graces. God initiates and we may choose to cooperate with him. So my question when reading the text was how far to take this “choice” thing. Does God lead us to the fountain and leave us to drink on our own or does he push our face into the water while yelling, “drink it!” I think he does the latter for me. It’s a hair splitting question and much ink has been spilled on it. When do God’s work end and the human being’s work begin? Or is it encapsulated in an inseparable mix of activities so that it causes tension for our finite minds?

In looking into bahar, I found some solace. It’s not that all my questions are answered, but I think I’ve been able to move forward. The word and its derivations carry the idea of divine choice (BDB). This sort of a decision “always involves a careful, well thought-out choice” (TWOT). The same word was used when lot “chose” his route when he and Abram separated ways, for example. And in looking at this section of Deuteronomy closely, it appears to be a recap of events. So then this recap is written to remind Israel of all that YHWH has done: his works, his commands, and his admonitions. And with this information Israel is to decide to take one path or another. Either they may continue with YHWH and invoke his covenant or they may follow other idols. The decision is not so much aimed at Israel as a whole, but a question directed to each man, woman, and child.

What’s more is that God gives plenty of evidence that, come what may, he will remain faithful; even if his people make failures on their part. John Owens speaks to this in his short Deuteronomy text. He says that this sort of motif of being scattered, dispersed, and returned (like as in the Exile) asks a noticeable question: what have you learned, Israel (94)? Has God and will God ever abandon you? This word is not given to Israel only, but is also sent to future generations and foreigners that have been welcomed into Israel’s company (Deut 29:13-14)! What an encouraging reminder and what divinely inspired persuasion from our God! He has not simply said, Israel will you serve me? Make up your mind! No, he says this by way of a track record of promise and provision. I love when Owens says that “the people must take courage, for the Lord goes forth with them and is ever present to them, even when the Lord is seemingly hidden or absent” (92). These reminders serve to show us God’s presence and faithfulness without discounting our role in accepting our appropriate responsibilities for such a relationship.

As we walk out our walk in life, we sometimes do not understand the things we go through. Israel certainly did not. That is something common to all of us. But God reminds us that he “has not given you a heart to understand, or eyes to see, or ears to hear until this day” (Deut 29:3). He leads us through our wildernesses without tooting and blowing his horn until we pass through that desert and find ourselves face to face with the reality of his protection and provision. Then he sort of removes the veil and allows us, as he allowed Israel, to see how he was there the whole time. Now we have enough information to make an informed decision. Not only does this inspire maturity in faith and trust in God, but it also confirms his presence among his people: no matter how we feel about it. And that presence, oh fellow saints of God, is one he has wrapped around us and simply asks, do you want to continue with me?

One thing that Apostle Paul wrote that sticks out in thinking about this is reflected in Philippians 4:12-13. Paul says that he has learned he can do all things through Christ. But what has been difficult for translations to truly capture is that the words Paul uses carry the idea that through all of his lived circumstances, in want, in need, in surplus, in prison, in receiving beatings, etc., they have “instructed” (“Literally, “initiated” in a secret teaching, which is a mystery unknown to the world” – JFB) him to conclude that through Christ he gains power to face anything life dishes out. What is unknown to those outside the faith is the length God has gone to for his people and the clear reality of his presence in doing so – even if we do not recognize that presence in the moment.

What an excellent conclusion for those who will dare to love the Lord God by obeying his voice (Deut 28:1).

I’ve been working on a paper about the presence of God and the tabernacle. In working on a thesis at St. John’s University, one tends to develop an appreciation for the asthetics of tradition and how they inspire devotion. If God made such beauty in his creation such as precious stones and what can be wrought with the skill of his human creation, then God is honored and gorified when we appreciate such beautify and are thankful in reflecting back on its source. Anyway, in my research I read a helpful articulation in Brueggeman’s, Theology of the Old Testament, p. 428:

There is no doubt, moreover, that the liturgical experience in the temple has a powerful aesthetic dimension, for the God of Israel is known to be present in an environment of physical, visible loveliness. Thus Israel is summoned to worship Yahweh in a holy place of unspeakable splendor (Pss 29:2*, 96:9*; 1 Chr 16:29*; 2 Chr 20:21*). The old, familiar translation of the recurring phrase in these texts is “the beauty of holiness.” The NRSV prefers to render “holy splendor,” thus accenting awe, which precludes any ease or artistic coziness. What interests us in this recurring formula, rendered either way, is that the visibly powerful sense of presence in the shrine has a mark of holiness to it, which variously reflects symmetry, proportion, order, extravagance, awe, and overwhelmingness. This is a sense of the “surplus” of Yahweh, situated at the center of Israel’s life, which is experienced as visual and which from its central and dominant position resituates and recharacterizes everything in Israel’s mundane world in relation to this center of occupying holiness.

During my graduate education at Northwestern College, Dr. Muska said something very important that advanced me theologically. I had formerly thought that salvation could be lost if one gave up, threw in the towel, or otherwise betrayed his or her faith. What Muska said was: 

We can’t lose our salvation.  

This didn’t fit into my theological schema. How can we be expected to live holy, but never worry about salvific matters? 

I remembered reading discussions that defended this idea through the articulation that if we fall away from the faith, then we really weren’t true believers in the first place. However, I know that there have been times in my life when I’ve been sure of things and later decided against them. Both perspectives were legitimate feelings and desires. I wouldn’t say that I didn’t really mean it at the time. I did. 

So how can I make sense of this? 

Ultimately, I was putting too many biscuits on the same warm, Thanksgiving plate of theology. This meal requires at least two plates. 

I owe a debt of gratitude to what Dr. Hewitson, also from Northwestern College, has added. From Old Testament to New Testament, the commands of God have always been both to Trust and Obey. (I will be posting a review of Hewitson’s work in the near future)

We have two things going for us: Christ is perfection and faith pleases God. So then those who have trust in the promises of God attain the perfect righteousness of God that is available through the obedience of Christ. 

In the matter of salvation, Dr. Muska is absolutely correct. Salvation cannot be lost. As we believe on Christ there is no failure on our part that can cause the foundation of our faith to fall out from beneath us. 

In the matter of abandoning our faith, we can. But this requires purposeful acts. It does not happen because we missed some step in our sanctifying path. It requires our rejecting the faith. 

Dr. Bill Mounce posted an article that helps makes some sense out of how this can be so. In his recent post on Romans 9:10, Mounce says that “Christians are people who confess Christ.” It is when we “cease to confess and if we cease to believe” that we start affecting the new covenant we have made with our God in coming to him through Christ. This is different than losing salvation. This is abandonment and betrayal of the covenant. 

I think this is further supported by what Hosea 6:7 reveals. Transgressing or breaking the covenant requires an act of faithlessness (depending on Translation, see i.e. ESV vs. KJV). The Hebrew is bagad, and covers the semantic range of acting covertly or deceitfully to being unfaithful. For the limited purpose of this blog post, any of these words are sufficient to show that our salvation is never dependent on how well we follow, but how wholly we follow. 

This is how theologically we can affirm both that salvation cannot be lost and that God still requirement faithfulness from his people. To love God is to do acts of love upon him, even though as human beings we still fail so often. 

So then we shan’t lose heart. God is faithful. (Hey, I just read the King James Version – it’s contagious!) And he will not lose any of his sheep.

Today begins the first day of the Regional SBL meetings. I’ve been preparing this morning and am looking forward to the fellowship and the sessions. I will be posting things of interests (well, at least what I think is of interest) that should be a blessing to you.