Tag: Theology and Reflections

Life and Death: Genesis 1-11 Part III

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Death is the sound of distant thunder at a picnic. – W. H. Auden

Quick note: I’ve skipped a few sections in this series, but I felt compelled to write about this sooner rather than later. So like Starwars, some of these posts will be out of order. Thanks 🙂

There is nothing more sobering than the death of a loved one. When someone dies, it is the perfect time to deeply reflect on the value of life, purpose and destiny. Why does death exist? Why do we all have to die? After we die, then what? Important questions and the answer largely depends on what you believe about humanity, God and the Bible. It’s taken me a while to write this post because I’m constantly challenged on my perspective of death. Growing up, death was a reasonably foreign idea. I had a cat that died, but apart from that, I didn’t really have any relationship with it. It probably wasn’t until my dad died just a few years ago that the reality of death kicked in.

In the Bible, the first place we come across the idea of death is in Genesis 2:15-17. Here God has placed mankind in Eden to work and keep it. Then God tells them that they could eat from any tree in the Garden except the tree of knowledge of good evil; otherwise, they’ll die. What an odd story. Eat fruit from any tree except this one, or you’ll die? Is the fruit poisoned? Does God really like this one particular tree? Are they allergic to its fruit? What’s going on here? A careful reflection on the story might lead one to consider that there’s more going on here than meets the eye. First, there are two main trees in the Garden here (Gen 2:9). The tree of knowledge of good and evil and the tree of life. Don’t eat from one, but you can from the other. In the story, these trees were representative of important and more profound realities. Wisdom/knowledge and eternal life. Let’s focus on the tree of life for a moment.

In the ancient near eastern world, these kinds of trees are associated with youth and the reversal of age. In the Gilgamesh Epic, there is a plant called “old man becomes young” that grows at the bottom of the cosmic river. In the rest of the Bible, the tree of life is portrayed as offering life and new life (Prov 3:16-18; 15-4), and can also be found in Revelation (2:7; 22:1-2, 14-15, 18-19) where the tree of life and the river of life are associated. For me, this sheds a bit of light on the meaning of what’s going on here in Genesis. A new creation is happening in Revelation. Renewal of the earth and the removal of sin and corruption where creation is finally united to God in the complete sense of that phrase. In Genesis 2, something similar is happening, unity, flourishing and absence of sin.

Furthermore, the mention of rivers in Genesis 2 flowing out from the Garden coupled with the tree of life says to me that this is where all life and goodness comes from, this Garden, this sacred space. Except for one crucial difference. In Revelation, there is no tree of knowledge, there is no presence of sin.

Now for the tree of knowledge of good and evil. The name given to the tree is counter-intuitive. Knowledge is good, right? Isn’t gaining the ability to discern between good and evil something we should have? Obviously, something more is at play in the story. First, it’s important to note that the Hebrew word for evil here is different from the way we use it today. Western philosophy is loaded with a certain ethical definition that isn’t necessarily in the original Hebrew word. It’s probably better to understand the word evil as bad or not good for you. For example, the word can also be used of things God does (Jdg 9:56-57; 2 Sam 12:11; Isa 45:7). However, we know that God is good and that in Him there is no darkness at all (1 John 1:5), so the word doesn’t always have to have the same philosophical definition that we have for it. I suppose my point is; this tree represents knowledge to distinguish between what’s bad for us and what’s good for us in the world. We call this wisdom. Essentially, eating from the tree meant choosing to live by our own wisdom (this is the definition Genesis 3 gives for defining to be like a god), rather than living by Yahweh’s wisdom. Let’s just stop for a moment. It’s not like Adam and Eve didn’t know what the right thing to do was. They certainly believed that they were going to die if they ate the fruit from the tree. It wasn’t until the serpent tempted them that they decided to become gods themselves.

So now to death. God said, “of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die” (Gen 2:17). The thing is Adam and Eve don’t die when they ate the fruit, at least not in the conventional sense. Adam lived until he was 930 years old. He had a long full life, longer than ours. So then death needs to be understood as something more than simply not existing. First, the plain meaning of death here does incorporate physical death. Adam might live until 930 years old, but he does end up dying, and I believe that’s something that’s not apart of God’s good creation (Gen 3:19; Rom 5:12; 1 Cor 15:55). However, the kind of death emphasised here is a relational separation from God who is the source of all light and life (Gen 2:7; Job 33:4; Neh 9:6; John 1:3-4; 1 Tim 6:13). Like I argue in my post on Genesis 1, Moses’ audience and the later Exilic audience would have understood Genesis 2-3 as their current experience, being separated from the land, sacred space, and God’s presence as a result of human rebellion.

To conclude, death is two-fold.  It is separation from God’s presence and the ceasing of one’s physical existence. One inevitably leads to the other. Because Adam and Eve were exiled from the Garden (God’s presence), so was all of humanity in Adam. Because the inevitable consequence of rebellion and separation is physical death, all shall die. But there is good news. God makes all things (including death) work together for the good of those who love Him, according to His purposes (Rom 8:28). Though we all may die, those who turn to Christ will actually find their life (Matt 10:39, 16:25; Mark 8:35; John 11:25-26), and will take part in His resurrection (John 6:39; Rom 6; 1 Cor 6:14, 15:20-23; 1 Thess 4:16; Rev 21:1-5). We’re all exiles now (1 Peter 1:1-2), but one day, those who have bowed the knee to Christ and given Him their allegiance will be raised up on the last day and rule alongside Him in a New Heaven and a New Earth in perfect harmony with God, one another, and creation. So let’s choose to eat from the tree of life (God’s wisdom), rather than choosing to decide what’s good for us. The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom (Prov 9:10), and it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God indeed (Heb 10:31).

Genesis 1-11 Part II: In the Beginning

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In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. – Genesis 1:1-2

A long time ago before I became a Christian, I remember dating a girl who’s family were hardcore believers. I remember one day being at their house, bored, and picking up a Creation magazine. Two things stuck out to me. First, that the earth was around 6000-10,000 years old and second that they didn’t believe aliens existed. Immediately I knew they were crazy. However, it wasn’t long until I thought these things myself. When I became a Christian, I hit the ground running with the Scriptures. I soaked up everything it had to say and just believed what I thought it was telling me. For most of my Christian life, I believed that God created the earth around 6000 years ago, that there was a real talking snake in the Garden, and that ideas like evolution were a lie cleverly constructed to deceive the world into believing that God doesn’t exist. I was taught by many people (people who are still dear friends today) that unless you believed these things you weren’t taking Jesus, the Bible or the Faith seriously. So I joined their tribe. I often went street preaching, seeking to debunk evolution and turn people to Jesus. For me, atheism and evolution went hand in hand, and if you could disprove one, the other would fall. Sure, I had heard about Christians out there who believed in evolution (they’re known as theistic evolutionists). However, they were considered liberal, twisting the Scriptures, compromising and it probably wasn’t long until they walked away from the Faith altogether. Since then, a lot has changed. Bible college set me on a trajectory of seriously studying the Scriptures in its original context and genre. I remember quite clearly that the first theological position that shifted was my eschatology. I went from being a Premillenail Dispensationalist to a Convenential Amillinealist. The next thing that started to change was my approach to the Scripture itself. I went from reading Bible verses in isolation from one another to seeing huge thematic threads that reverberated throughout the entire Biblical narrative (I came to know this as biblical theology).

I began to understand the importance of context, genre, audience, authorship and to look for the authors intent (much of which I discuss here). Huge biblical themes like temple and sacred space, priesthood, union with God and much more, lit up the Bible as it began to sing to me a sweet alluring song that I haven’t been able to get out of my head to this day (not that I’ve tried). Eventually, I came across Tim Mackie and the Bible Project. They kept pointing out how important the story of Genesis 1-11 was for the entire biblical narrative, and wow was I amazed. Coupled with what I was learning at college, these guys turned the Bible from Netflix into 4k VR surround sound where, at times, it was almost like I could touch God Himself through the very pages I was reading. Now, as a result of all this, over the last three years or so I’ve shifted in my view of Genesis 1. Let’s explore.

Genesis 1 has been the subject of much speculation and debate for thousands of years. Each generation or era has a different take on what’s happening in the text, and I actually don’t think that’s a horrible thing. I believe God intends for us to reflect on whatever it is we’re reading in the Bible into our own context and live out the implications as God’s people. However, this shouldn’t be at the expense of the original intended meaning of the text. As far as I can tell, I see three main theological themes being explored in the first chapter. 1. God and who He is. 2. The ordering or construction of sacred space. 3. The establishing of humanity and their vocation in relation to God, sacred space, and the created order.

When we turn to the first page in the Bible, the very first thing the author wants us to notice is that there is a god and that this god created the heavens and the earth. Who is this god? This is where context is so important. If Moses wrote Genesis (I discuss authorship in a previous post), then his cognitive environment would have shaped his understanding of who this god was. For Moses and the Israelites in the Exodus events, the same God who brought them out of Egpyt was the same God who was the Creator in Genesis 1. This can be further supported by the use of the title “LORD God” in Genesis 2:4 (and onwards) where the author seems to be making an emphatic claim that this is indeed Yahweh Himself. The God of Israel is the God of the entire cosmos.

Just this line of thought alone has some profound implication for its readers. The most obvious is that God doesn’t merely create the universe, order it, and leave it to its own devices (deism). Instead, if this god is Yahweh Himself, we see that He is always at work throughout human history. God is both transcendent and immanent. He is distinct from His creation but is at work in it and often through it to bring about the redemption of a fallen world. The New Testament later picks this up by throwing Jesus into the mix (see: John 1 and Col 1:15-17).

Furthermore, in a polytheistic world, the idea that one God created the cosmos would have been a little edgy. In the ancient near eastern world (ANE), there were many other creation narratives, each depicting a council of gods creating the cosmos, usually chaotically, through violence and battle. Instead, God here simply speaks, and there is light, stars, animals etc. Very chill. To me, this says something about God’s character. Rather than having chaos reign, God is all about order, peace, shalom. In fact, this can be further supported by the use of the word create. This leads me to my next point. Order out of chaos and sacred space.

Here is where I blend a few ideas together. First, we read that the earth was formless and void. The Hebrew wording here can be translated as wild and waste, desolate and chaotic. Picture, if you can, a tumultuous watery wasteland that continuously churns and destroys. This was the state of the world before day one. Immediately the readers would have picked up on what was happening here. In the surrounding ANE world, there were plenty of creation narratives where chaotic and wild waters were to be overcome by the gods. It’s where the great leviathan dwelt, chaotic and dark sea creatures at odds with the plans of the gods (see the EnĂ»ma Eliš as an example). To the ANE world, dark, chaotic waters and leviathan were something to be feared, yet in the text, God simply brings order out of this chaos by speaking, unlike the ANE gods that wared over it. Furthermore, the leviathan was made to be a good creature, not an evil one in Genesis 1:20-23 (c.f. Ps 104:26). Similarities? Yes. Absolutely. It goes without saying that we’re going to find similarities between people groups in the same cognitive environment.

The differences, however, are important. Instead of God having to fight or war for lordship over the chaos and darkness, He is lord from the very beginning. The chaos creatures are actually His, and so are the waters. They’re subdued and ready to be moulded in the hands of the Creator. From here, God takes the wild watery wastes and uses them to form His sacred space – temple.

John Walton in his book “The Lost World of Genesis 1” argues that the Hebrew word for “created” in Genesis 1:1 shouldn’t be understood as ex nihilo (creation out of nothing), rather it should be understood that God orders the cosmos into a cosmic temple (sacred space). I recommend you read his book and wrap your head around the full argument. From what I’ve learned from him and other resources I concur. The ANE world was more concerned with function and order then they were about the material origins we’d usually read into the text. One analogy Walton uses is the difference between a house and a home. The way we usually read the text is like building a house. We place down the foundations, the walls, roof etc. Where the ANE was more interested in a home with furniture, food etc. A home is where one thrives, lives and flourishes, the other is more about material origins. This is likely what’s happening in the text. The author is more interested in function and home in the sacred space God is about to order, rather than the material origins of the universe. In this blog, I explore the theme of temple and how it relates to the biblical story. In the next post, we’ll explore more about the theme of temple and how it relates to what’s happening here.

So to wrap up this part of the series:

  1. The god in Genesis 1 is Yahweh. He is the sole creator, sustainer and Lord of life.
  2. The earth was in a wild, dark and chaotic space then God starts to order it.
  3. God is arranging a sacred space or temple.

Major on the Majors & Minor on the Minors

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Five hundred years ago, the hammer fell, and the nail-pierced the door at Wittenburg, which gave birth to the Protestant movement which, over time, grew into the theologically diverse Church that we have today. Some say this is a bad thing, that Protestants never agree on anything, everyone in a sense is their own Pope, their ultimate authority. People argue that the Protestant movement is so fractured that it works against the unity that Scripture promotes (John 17:23; 1 Cor 1:10; Eph 4:11-13; Col 3:13-14). Indeed I say, the Bible encourages unity and even commands it. But you know the old saying; sometimes you have to crack a few eggs to make the perfect omelette. That omelette is still cooking (we’re always reforming). 

However, I believe as one friend told me a long time ago that the diversity in the Protestant movement is apart of God’s will to deliberately hold the entire Church accountable to interpreting His Word correctly. Rather than relying on just one or a few people to interpret Scripture accurately for us (this is the priesthood of believers). This was a huge part of the Reformation. The Word was placed into the hands of all of God’s people, not just a few “qualified” men. Praise God for that. We can’t, though, turn a blind eye to apparent differences in our movement. One can walk down a street and note a Presbyterian church next to a Uniting, next to a Baptist, next to a Lutheran, next to an Anglican, all within thirty seconds of one another. With the wealth of information (mostly thanks to the internet) and the progression of theological scholarship, even just one local church can have a diverse theological membership or leadership within its congregation. So, how do we then “major on the majors, and minor on the minors” so the speak? How do we minister with the vast range of theological differences even within our local churches?

Short answer – it depends. Read on.

1. Confessions or statements of faith:

Throughout church history, many confessions, creeds, and statements have been written and nutted out by men greater than most of us that usually major on the majors. These majors include the nature of God, the hypostatic union, the nature of humanity, inerrancy and inspiration concerning Scripture, the atonement, sacraments, and in one way or another the Gospel (repentance, faith, Jesus’ life, death and resurrection etc.). Reading through some of these confessions and even potentially adopting one for your church (or even for just yourself) will go a long way in avoiding potential pitfalls in the future.

2. Humility and grace:

We must remember, especially those of us who are theologically trained, to maintain a position of humility and grace to those we disagree with on the minors. Minor doctrines are positions we might take that we believe to be evident in the Scriptures but don’t necessarily affect one’s standing with God. These minors issues might include eschatology, Calvinism/Arminianism/ Molinism, the age of the earth or universe (evolution and science etc.), continuationism/cessationism, again the sacraments (depending on one’s view, you can categorise some of these in different tiers), complementarianism/egalitarianism. We must always be ready to be wrong on minor issues while still believing we’re right on what we believe (otherwise, why believe it?).

3. Ecclesiology, prayer, and coffee:

Almost every Protestant denomination majors on the majors. You should be able to walk into a Presbyterian church, a Baptist church, a Lutheran church, and hear the same Gospel being preached to their members. However, secondary issues can affect how we minister together practically. For example, pedo vs credo baptism understandably affects the way one does church, and it has some bearing on how the Gospel is displayed, but the differences aren’t salvific. Something like this I would categorise as a secondary issue – significant enough that it affects our ecclesiology, but not so important that I wouldn’t consider the person I disagree with a heretic. A third-tier issue is something like eschatology or the age of the earth, these don’t necessarily have a bearing on your ecclesiology but are important enough to how one largely interprets the Bible and in turn the Christian life. These things can affect how we do church (depending on how militant the person is about their position), but they don’t have to. Third-tier issues can inevitably tie into second and even major tiered issues, so it’s understandable why, in some cases, people may not be able to minister together. However, if leaders and members can somehow embrace the differences, it would make for a theologically, robust church.

This kind of unity is fostered by taking the command to love one another seriously (John 13:34-35), to maintain a humble yet open disposition displayed first from the leadership and then by the members. Lots of prayers, as I’ve heard it said, you can’t hate someone you pray for often, and lots of conversations over good quality coffee with an open Bible. Finally, I’d say encourage mature theological discussion and training. Whether it’s from a seminary, college or your church, people can only grow if you’re willing to teach. If we can encourage this kind of unity and maturity in our theological development, it will hopefully flow out into our churches. It’s hard but not impossible, and I think the rewards are worth it. At the end of the day if the differences end up being too great, at least walk away in love trying to keep the unity of the faith.

The Image of God: Genesis 1-11 Part V

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Then God said, “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. And let them have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.”

So God created man in his own image,

in the image of God he created him;

male and female he created them. – Genesis 1:26-27

The Imago Dei or the image of God has been discussed at length for a long, long time. Throughout history, some have assumed that the image of God refers to intelligence and the ability to discern between moral choices. Others have thought it’s more about the soul or spirit of a human. I believe that the image is something functional (something we do) and ontological (something we have). Let’s explore.

One of the most distinguishing characteristics of Yahweh is that He wants to be known, and He wants to know His creation as well. This is somewhat bizarre because most gods in the ancient world weren’t really concerned with the affairs of humanity unless thought they could get something out of them. Yahweh, on the other hand, is entirely driven by love, order, shalom and holiness. So what does this mean for the Imago Dei?

In the ancient world, kings were known to be the earthly representatives of their god. In Egypt, for example, the pharaoh was thought to be the incarnation and representation of whatever major or popular god that was in at the time. Furthermore, these representative kings were to rule over their nation as though the god itself was ruling, thus displaying all of the god’s attributes and character. Other examples in the ancient world also show how the representatives of the gods also played a mediatory role; a sort of middle man between the god and the nation. In Genesis 1-2, there is a similar message. Humanity (both male and female) are created and endowed with something of the Creator God. They intrinsically possess the divine (ontology) as they were made to image or display their Creator to the rest of creation (function). According to the passage, humanity was to image Yahweh by “having dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over the livestock and over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth” (Genesis 1:26) and to work and keep the Garden of Eden (Genesis 2:15). What does this mean for us then?

In Genesis 3, classically entitled as the Fall, humanity meets a weird talking serpent (sin incarnate), they’re tempted, they take from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. They are then exiled from the Garden because they failed in their vocation to be keepers of Eden and to rule over creation. Instead of ruling over the serpent (sin), they are ruled by it. Instead of protecting Eden (Yahweh’s dwelling space), they let chaos and sin come in and take over. So when someone does terrible at their job, they’re fired. So were Adam and Eve.

Genesis 1-3 is unique. There are several ways one could interpret and understand the story. One way I think we should understand Genesis 1-3 is that it’s the story of all of humanity. God has tasked all of us (Christian or not) with a divinely appointed job to lovingly rule over creation, to work it and to keep it so that God can live among us. From before even the very beginning, God’s intention for His creation and humanity especially was that He would dwell and live in loving harmony with them. This is where the Imago Dei kicks in. Every single one of us has been created to reflect and show God’s very being by doing the above tasks. Reflecting or imaging is inescapable for us, it’s a part of our nature. Now, however, we image and reflect the other gods (idols) we worship, namely death and chaos. Reflect on this quote by one of my favourite scholars G. K. Beale:

“People will always reflect something, whether it be God’s character or some feature of the world. If people are committed to God, they will become like him; if they are committed to something other than God, they will become like that thing, always spiritually inanimate and empty like the lifeless and vain aspect of creation to which they have committed themselves.”

Now consider this passage from Psalm 115:4-8:

Their idols are silver and gold,

the work of human hands.

They have mouths, but do not speak;

eyes, but do not see.

They have ears, but do not hear;

noses, but do not smell.

They have hands, but do not feel;

feet, but do not walk;

and they do not make a sound in their throat.

Those who make them become like them;

so do all who trust in them.

If there’s one thing humanity loves more then themselves its flat out drama (chaos). We’re confusing little things. One the one hand we protest and petition for peace on earth, we desire to see the end of famine and disease, we boil and rage at corruption in government, and we weep and wail over death and genocide. Yet we send people into war (sometimes a necessary evil). We spend $50 on a shirt made in Taiwanese sweatshops. We hate sexual abuse and fight against rape culture, yet we watch porn and get excited over shows like Game of Thrones that perpetuate that culture. We “know” what’s wrong and what’s right, yet we’re in a constant struggle to live consistently. You could say that we “suppress the truth in our unrighteousness” (Rom 1:18). All the technology and scientific advancements in the world won’t give us what we need, a new heart, with new desires, and the ability to live consistently (Ezekiel 36:26). Once, that’s solved, then we can once again image and reflect God who is life and love rather than the gods of death and chaos. How do we obtain new hearts?

Great question. Ezekiel 36:26 (cf: Eze 11:19-20; 18:31; Ps 51:10; Jn 3:3; 2 Cor 3:3), is something God wants to do to everyone in Christ to restore the Imago Dei and have them return (to greater heights) to their intended role in the cosmos. Jesus lived, died and rose from the dead as a perfect human being, as our representative (Rom 5:12-14), so that by grace, through faith (Eph 2:8-9) we can be united to this new and perfect human (1 Cor 15:22) by the Holy Spirit (Jhn 3:5-6). When we’re united, we’re then washed clean and made pure (1 Cor 6:11) – we’re made genuinely human in the Messiah Jesus. Now we’re able to truly love, rule, reflect and keep as God created us to be.

The Lonely Theologian

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Believe me, when I say this – It would be so easy to draw a “crowd.” I know what the right things to say are, the right doctrines and thoughts. I could be thoroughly orthodox in every way and no one would bat an eye and every blog I wrote would get likes, “amens” and maybe a few shares. I could completely immerse myself in a theological tribe and get pats on the back and a thumbs up from my kin all the while completely selling out on what is I really believe. If you want the easiest path to being liked by others in the Christian Faith let me tell you what to believe (on top of the obvious stuff about Jesus, the Trinity, Scripture and salvation which are non-negotiable):

  1. That the universe is roughly 6000-10000 years old. Christians love this one because Jesus said in order to receive eternal life you must firmly hold to the idea that the universe is young and then be born again… obviously.
  2. The Bible is to be read at face value and read literally. I mean because every single one of us reads the Scriptures in its original languages and has a thorough understanding of its original context. Wow! Amazing!
  3. That all we need to do is read just “read Bible.” We just need a “simple faith.” Amen, I mean who needs over 2000 years of theological thought, translation and reflection to at all help how we understand God’s Holy Word right?
  4. That the Bible is about me and you. The authors of the Bible wrote Scripture fully anticipating a white Western 21st Century Christian to be reading about food safety laws in Leviticus thousands of years later. How considerate.
  5. That our tribe has it all figured out. This one just speaks for itself.

Satire? Yes. I hope you get the point.

Trust me, being a theologian (though I’m not sure if I’d really consider myself as one) is lonely and tough work. You read and pray, and think and pray, and discuss and pray, and read some more. We’re in “ivory towers” not just because we choose to be there ourselves, but because sometimes we’re exiled to the ivory towers by the community of Christians we usually hang around. Usually, what ends up happening one way or another is that what you once thought you knew ends up changing or at least being convincingly challenged. This is extremely isolating because at least in my experience, you start believing and working through things that no one else likes and you become alienated even from people you were closest too. I make note of this issue in a blog I recently wrote but I’ll reiterate it here. Being a good theologian, even a good Christian is embracing “the wrong.” We should love it, look for it and welcome it like a dear friend. There is nothing more humbling and even exciting than realising something we’ve held to our entire lives wasn’t quite right and that there is an entirely new world of waiting for us to take hold of.

I guess my indictment is this. Let’s kill our theological golden calves before we “kill” one another. There are truths worth dying for –  but there aren’t any worth killing for.