How to Study Genesis

Suppose I were to ask you to describe Genesis to me. In that case, you might describe it as about the origins of the earth, the creation, sin, and subsequent fall of Adam and Eve, Noah and the Ark, and Abraham. Have you ever asked what purpose the book was supposed to serve? It wasn’t to decide whether creation or science was accurate—a false dichotomy, if you will—or tell us how old the earth is. Sadly, the way the church has taught the Old Testament has been to wrap it up in the childhood stories we learn in Sunday school. We don’t know the entire story, but only the stories within the story. 

The book’s Hebrew name is the first word of the book, bere’šit, and means, “In the beginning.” The term “Genesis” came from the Greek translation of the book, which dates to the third–second centuries BCE. The same date as the oldest manuscript we have of Genesis from the Dead Sea Scrolls. The purpose of Genesis was to detail the foundational story of Israel. This was, therefore, a national epic, and nothing less. The first eleven chapters are a synopsis of the world and answer various questions: “How did the world get here?” “Where did evil come from?” “Wouldn’t we have all spoken one language?” The story moves from this toward Israel’s history, beginning in chapter twelve with Abraham’s story. From there, through his son and grandson, the latter would be the head of the nation and from whom every Israelite is a descendant. 

Since many people aren’t Israelites, they might read it differently than we do. Jews read it differently from Christians, and academics read it unlike Christians in a pew might. Depending on why you’re reading this book and in what context you generally operate will determine how you read Genesis. I was hoping you could take off your context and go with me into the mind of an ancient Israelite. To do that, I’ll have to explain to you how you can do that. Don’t worry. You’ll be Jewish in no time! 

Sections

I’ve already mentioned two significant sections of the book: the first eleven chapters are usually referred to as primeval history. In contrast, the remaining chapters tell Israel’s national record through their patriarchs. However, various sections are marked off by the Hebrew term in the book, toledoth. This word translates as either “generations,” “chronicles,” or “lineage.” Moses used this term as somewhat of a boundary marker for the different sections: 

Genesis 2:4b–4:26

Genesis 5:1–6:8

Genesis 6:9–9:29 (new creation in 8:1–9:29)

Genesis 10:1–11:9

Genesis 11:10–26

Genesis 11:27–25:11

Genesis 25:12–18

Genesis 25:19–35:29

Genesis 36:1–37:1

Genesis 37:1–50:26

We’ll study the book based on Moses’s sections for us. 

I am a massive fan of the Avengers movies. There are four of them by that title, with many more making up the entire franchise. However, what makes me appreciate them is that I’ve seen them all in their order. Genesis is but one book in a collection of five. To read Genesis isolated from the other four is to miss the entirety of what Moses did for Israel. Unlike modern scholars, as I read even from the mouth of Jesus in the gospels, Moses authored these books. However, I grant that they are written in the vernacular of monarchical Hebrew and redacted (edited). What does this mean? If you read the King James Bible, you know from its vernacular and history written in Elizabethan English the same as Shakespeare. However, if you’ve tried to read the original 1611 version, it’s rather hard to read. Editors have updated the vernacular while preserving the Elizabethan sway it held. The same is true of the Hebrew in which Genesis appears (cf. Josh 24:26). 

In addition to the actual Hebrew style used, some clues point us to a monarchical period: Genesis 12:6 and 13:7 mention how the Canaanites lived in the land at that time which suggests that whoever added that detail wrote when they were not in the land. The list of kings in Genesis 36 is placed within the context of “before any king reigned over the children of Israel” (Gen. 36:31). Whoever added this detail lived during Israel’s monarchical period, which began about 1000 BCE. Abraham lived another thousand years before then (2100 BCE or so). 

I don’t believe that the entire Pentateuch was in the sixth century BCE, but it was edited over centuries. Something that makes me think this, in addition to what I’ve already mentioned, is how Deuteronomy 34 records Moses’s death, which I’m confident he wouldn’t have written, and that no one to that day knew where he was buried (Deut. 34:7). Furthermore, there hadn’t been anyone like him up to that point (Deut. 34:10–12), but what point was that? This portion was likely added by someone who lived a long time after Moses, during the monarchical period of Israel’s history. Now that we have a setting, we’ll know how to read it: Israel’s national record before they were a kingdom. 

Since Moses is believed to have been the author of Genesis, we can safely say that he received the knowledge of the things written therein due to inspiration by the Holy Spirit. After all, we don’t learn about him until the next book of the Bible, so what we read about in Genesis wasn’t a result of an eye-witness account unless one considers God the eye-witness, who then passed it along to Moses.1


1 Daniel E. Fleming, “History in Genesis,” Westminster Theological Journal 65 (2003): 251–62.

The Genesis of How the Bible Was Created

We have in our possession a sacred book that is nonetheless a book. Scripture was written over 1,400 years by various authors. The Bible wasn’t put together until centuries after all the writings were collected, but some writings remained together as a corpus (e.g., Torah). How did this process occur? That’s what many wonder. How and who created the Bible is remarkable and something that isn’t required to know but is very enlightening. 

Allow me, first, to give you a timeline of pertinent events as it relates to writing altogether and the Bible.  

3200 BCE — Writing began in Sumer through pictographic means. You might look up Samuel Kramer’s work, History Begins in Sumer.  

3000 BCE — Egyptian hieroglyphs were developed. 

2100 BCE — Abraham lived around this time. 

1800 BCE — An alphabet is created in Egypt. 

1500 BCE — Moses lived around this time. 

1200 BCE — Ugaritic, a language from Ugarit—a northwestern area in Syria—is used, and Exodus 15 and Judges 5 have stylistic patterns that resemble it. These similarities lead linguists to conclude that these two chapters are the oldest in the Bible and date to 1100–1200 BCE. 

1000 BCE — The monarchical period of Israel’s history begins. 

1000–900 BCE — The earliest Hebrew inscription on  a potsherd is discovered (Khirbet Qeiyafa ostracon). 

516→ BCE — We have manuscripts dating to this time period, known as the Second Temple Period, with the oldest dating to the late 4th century BCE. 

250→ BCE — Dead Sea Scrolls 

This timeline provides us a rough idea and overview of what we know about written communication. This information is the result of linguists, philologists, archaeology, and other related areas of study.1  

Materials used in writing were stone (Exod. 34:1, 28; Deut. 27:2–3), clay (Ezek. 4:1), wood (Is. 30:8; Hab. 2:2), and leather (Jer. 36:23). Additionally, papyrus leaves were mostly that upon which the New Testament was written. These plants grew along the Nile River and had been used as far back as 3000 BCE, but became common among the Greeks and Romans for making a book (codex) or books (codices). The average roll was 30 feet long and 9–10 inches high. Scribes would write on one side mostly, and occasionally on both sides (cf. Rev. 5:1).2 Animal skins, referred to as either vellum or parchment, were another common material used in the making of a letter. 

Whenever you hear about the discovery of a manuscript or something that scholars date to thus-and-such a period, they base this off the material upon which it was written, the language, dialect and syntax, and even carbon dating. Because we know that certain materials were used by particular people during a specific time period, this allows archaeologists to pinpoint a general time frame which contributes to our overall knowledge of the history of a text. 

The Birth of the Bible

It’s difficult to fix a date as to when the Bible was written, or began to be written. Believing that Moses lived around 1500 BCE, the books attributed to his authorship would have been written sometime in the second half of the fifteenth century, with redactions throughout the centuries (cf. Num. 12:3; Deut. 34:5–6). However, the book of Job is believed to have been written in the second millinium BCE, or it at least is about that period if it was written later. To put it in perspective, Job is believed to have been a patriarch akin to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and in their time. 

When it comes to what’s extant, the tenth century BCE potsherd known as Khirbet Qeiyafa ostracon is the eldest. This find dates to the reign of King David and was found was on the north side of the valley of Elah (1 Sam. 17:1–3). Differing interpretations as to what it says exists,3 so to suggest it is Scripture may not be altogether true. This discovery also can’t be ruled out as unreflective of Scripture though.4 The Ketef Hinnom amulets, however, are among the oldest find that contain on them language akin to the priestly blessing of Numbers 6:24–26 and date to the seventh century BCE. Since many scholars believe that the Old Testament is primarily a product of Israel’s post-exilic period, these two finds cast that conclusion into doubt given the language they each demonstrate.

Behind these fragmentary pieces, the Dead Sea Scrolls are the oldest full-manuscript evidence of the Old Testament we have. They are a collection of over 900 manuscripts discovered around Qumran from 1947–56. Copies of every Old Testament book except for Nehemiah and Esther were found in 11 caves around the Dead Sea and the oldest dates to the third century BCE. Before this discovery, the Leningrad Codex was the oldest Old Testament manuscript, dating to 1008 CE. Scholars compared the two texts, being greater than a millennium apart, and found that little had changed. This attests to the accuracy of the Hebrew Bible transmission.The notion supported by the likes of Bart Ehrman that we can’t fully trust Scripture because of the lack of original copies is a bit of a farce when one considers the accuracy between these two texts.


1 I recommend a listening to The Bible for Normal People (episode 150).

2 Neil R. Lightfoot, How We Got the Bible, rev. ed. (Abilene: Abilene Christian University Press, 1986), 4.

3 Alan Millard, “The Ostracon from the Days of David Found at Khirbet Qeiyafa,” Tyndale Bulletin 62, no. 1 (Jan. 2011): 1–13.

4 Ralph K. Hawkins and Shane Buchanan, “The Khirbet Qeiyafa Inscription and 11th–10th Century BCE Israel,” Stone-Campbell Journal 14, no. 2 (Fall 2011): 219–34.

Paul’s Use of a Scribe

Years ago, while working on my Ph.D., I was on a university campus in Nashville, TN, for a journal conference where I had presented a paper. After my presentation, I attended other presentations until the evening break. As I walked behind two other graduate students talking, I heard one remark that he didn’t believe that Paul authored the “pastoral epistles” either. I perked up because I was clueless about what they meant and why. Perhaps I misunderstood them?

I began reading background material regarding the New Testament, specifically about 1 & 2 Timothy and Titus. I don’t refer to them as the “Pastoral Epistles” because that term isn’t once used in either of these three letters. That’s something that began in the eighteenth century and has stuck ever since. Nevertheless, many scholars believed these letters to have been pseudepigraphical: written in Paul’s name, but by someone else. Why did they think this, I wondered? Historically speaking, the early church did not like this custom. On several occasions, letters were rejected for this very reason (e.g., Gospel of Peter), and Christians who did so were reprimanded (Tertullian, On Baptism 17.4–5). The oldest list of New Testament books, dating from AD 180 or thereabouts, censured letters forged in Paul’s name.

As I gave this issue more study, I learned that the letters’ syntax did not match any of Paul’s other letters. This isn’t the only factor that scholars relied upon, but the one with which I’m concerned here. I believe Paul used a specific scribe to compose these letters; however, I couldn’t necessarily prove it until now, thanks to Ben Witherington III. First, Scripture didn’t hide that Paul used a scribe to compose his letters. Tertius wrote his letter to the Romans, so we’re told in Romans 16:22. Second, some commentators have inferred from Galatians 6:11 that Paul might have had eye-sight issues, or that he may have only written a line or two of his letters (1 Cor. 16:21).

I recently listened to a podcast that featured Ben Witherington III and Jason Myers about views on Paul. Witherington made a statement on this issue towards the end of the episode. He challenged many scholars’ consensus on this claim regarding 1 & 2 Timothy and Titus. Witherington argued that he believed that Luke wrote these letters and that Paul may have granted him a level of freedom to write them, which would account for the differences in syntax. He offered this for two reasons: 1) Luke alone was with Paul (2 Tim. 4:11) and 2) several phrases and terms appear only in these three letters as well as Luke-Acts. We already know that Paul quoted from Luke’s gospel account in 1 Timothy 5:17–18 (see Luke 10:7), so this makes Witherington’s point all the more plausible.

Is it the Truth?

I recorded a devotional for our congregation that centered on how we Christians share and perpetuate information on social media and in general conversation. Given the increase of fake news that’s shared, and many of such by Christians, I thought it appropriate to urge the body of Christ where I serve to “buy the truth and not sell it.” You can watch it below.

For Where Two or Three Are Gathered In My Name

“For where two or three are gathered together in My name, I am there in the midst of them,” so said our Lord. Usually, this passage is cited when a small number of people have gathered for some spiritual purpose. It’s a way of saying that the crowd’s size doesn’t matter because God’s with us, which is true, by the way, but is that what he meant when He said this?

 Leading into this passage was Christ’s instructions on handling when a fellow believer had sinned against a person. Jesus gave a three-step process where the first attempt was that the believer goes to the person and attempt to rectify the matter in private. If that step failed, they were to take two or three witnesses to help adjudicate the case. If that failed, the ordeal was to have been brought before the assembly (church). Were the person to ignore the church’s ruling, the offender was to have been excommunicated.

Following this, Jesus said that whatever they bound on earth was bound in heaven. Whatever they loosed on earth was so regarded in heaven. This is a continuation of judicial thought from the previous verses (15–17). Jews then believed that the Jewish high court had the authority on earth of God’s tribunal in heaven so that whatever they did on earth was done with God’s approval. Using His law as their guide, they were His representatives on earth and acted with His authority. The binding and loosing were understood as either imprisoning or releasing.

By the time we get to verse twenty, the two or three referred to the witnesses of 18:16. At a Jewish ex-communication case, a prayer of denunciation was offered for the person who was to be removed from fellowship. Prayer was also provided in the case of one who had repented. In Moses’ Law, the witnesses were first to execute the court’s judgment (Deut. 17:17). Here they are first to pray, so there was a great responsibility upon them. These weren’t always titled people within Israel or the church. However, faithful followers of God took part in this. When Christ says where two or three are gathered, He isn’t speaking about crowd sizes, but either the putting away or receiving back of an erring believer.

Abstain from Every Appearance of Evil

“Abstain from every appearance of evil,” so wrote Paul to the Thessalonians 5:22. I have read and heard brethren invoke this passage to denounce a host of bad habits that they may find evil, such as dancing, drinking, and so forth. Regardless of how we understand each of those issues and what Scripture has to say about them, is 1 Thessalonians 5:22 a passage to be applied to such matters when read in the context of the letter Paul wrote?


When placed in context, 1 Thessalonians 5:19–22 belong to the same thought. They weren’t to quench the Spirit and despise prophecies. They were to test all things and hold fast to what is right. After mentioning these things, Paul then urges that they abstain from every form, or appearance, of evil. I believe it’s safe to say that whatever the Scriptures define as evil can be applied to this passage. However, we should undoubtedly take caution where the Scriptures are silent. Were we to take, for example, dancing as it has often been applied to this passage, we must ask what the Scriptures say, if anything, about the matter. We can find that dancing appears in several passages in a positive light (Exodus 15:20; 2 Samuel 6:14; Ecclesiastes 3:4; Luke 15:25). Therefore, we cannot label dancing as a whole as evil when Scripture portrays it positively. Nevertheless, we can concede that there may be types of dancing that are indecent and lascivious. Scripture has something to say about that too if we can read between the lines (Mark 6:21–23; cf. Esther 1:10–12).


Paul had to say to the Thessalonians that the Holy Spirit was to be actively present in the church’s life, but that there was a constant need to discern and test the Spirit’s work and prophecies not to be misled (cf. 1 Corinthians 14:29). After trying such things, they held to what was right and abstained from every form of evil. We must, then, ask what they understood as evil in this context. First, a correct translation would be, “Abstain from every form of evil” (NKJV; NASB). Because the KJV renders it as “all appearance of evil,” some conclude that Paul was condemning what was evil and what appeared evil (cf. 2 Corinthians 8:19–21). However, that wasn’t Paul’s thought here. The Greek term eidos doesn’t signify “appearance” in this sense, but “form” or “type.” “Appearance” is very open-ended and subject to our tastes at times, so we could easily invoke this passage for what we believe to appear as evil. The “evil” Paul has in mind here is likely whatever doesn’t pass the test of God’s Word, such as false prophecy (Matthew 7:15), and then to every other wrong thing (Galatians 5:19–21).

All This Talk About Secession

Image from DAILY KOS

Recently, Rush Limbaugh indicated that certain states may want to secede which resulted in a firestorm of criticism. Even some Texas Republicans are wanting to secede from the union over Trump’s loss. It’s true that the nation appears vastly divided not only over the election, but the handling of the coronavirus pandemic as well as the nomination of the latest Supreme Court Justice, among other things. Secession, however, isn’t a bad thing, and the Founders believed it to have been wise in the event that the compact of the thirteen states were at odds with the federal government. Of course, our own dalliance with secession brings to mind the War Between the States (Civil War), so many Americans naturally view it as an inherent evil. Lest we forget, the U. K. recently seceded from the E. U. without a shot fired. Much like a divorce, secession can be nasty or amicable.

Not very long ago, F. H. Buckley saw the publication of his book, American Secession: The Looming Threat of a National Breakup. I, first, heard about this work on the Tom Woods podcast when the latter interviewed the former. His suggestion, based on comparative data, is that America undergo a secession. Buckley uncovered that trust in federal government has fallen from 77% in 1964 to 19% in 2015. Furthermore, only a third of Americans say that others can be trusted, which is down from half in 1972. Secession would be remedy to this woe, because once split apart we’d likely find ourselves surrounded by people whom we better trust and share common interests. This would, in turn, result in greater prosperity since we could rely on these neighbors to keep their promises. It would also make us more willing to look after one another through social welfare programs.

One such example of a rather recent secession, in addition to the U. K. leaving the E. U., without a militant onslaught would be the so called “velvet divorce” of the Czechs and the Slovaks in 1993. These were combined in 1918 as one nation after the Austro-Hungarian Empire fell. Despite having differences in language, culture, and religion, these peoples constituted a nation for a long time until they decided to separate. They resolved border, asset, and debt issues through negotiation and have since maintained a friendly relationship. In our current United States, I no more want people from the West Coast or New England determining how I live than I suppose they’d want the same from me. Yet, when you think West Coast, one usually envisions ridiculous liberal policies that are “woke” and ineffective with the high taxation of virtue signaling it brings. They may likely think of us as backwoods rednecks clinging to our guns and Bibles. Fine and well. I’m content to allow them to live how they deem fit so long as they respect my choices in similar and different matters.

One issue exists: no scholar or politician argues for a right of secession under Constitutional law. When the Founders framed the nation, they had in mind a federal republic more than a unitary state. After the Revolutionary War, the thirteen colonies had no common enemy to unite them, so why would they form a compact. Because were they separate, they might align themselves with nations hostile to other colonies (states) and that could prove more disastrous than if they bound together. It was believed at that time that each state retained sovereignty over its own affairs, and with a miniscule federal government, there was no power large enough to do otherwise until Lincoln waged the Civil War. Had you asked ante-bellum Americans what country they were from, they would have replied with their respective state. Robert E. Lee was a Virginian, for example, before anything else.

The common belief was that the Constitution was a compact among the thirteen states, and when one so believed that their rights had been impugned, they could simply withdraw. Madison argued as much in the first Constitutional Convention and in Federalist 43. Here’s what Buckley writes.

It was an argument he would repeat in drafting the 1798 Virginia Resolutions. In its ratifying convention, Virginia reserved the right to secede when the powers granted to the federal government had been perverted, to the injury or oppression of the state. That, said Madison, would safeguard Virginia should it object to the federal government. So Virginia’s ratification of the Constitution was expressly conditioned on a right of secession.

With this understanding, we can see why southern states seceded when they did. Perhaps, though, this time a proper secession could be accomplished without the bloodshed. It might make for a happier and more prosperous nation.

Now, More Than Ever, Americans Should Read Thomas Paine

Alongside Locke and Jefferson stood Thomas Paine in the advocacy of the natural rights of humanity in political and religious liberty. Robert Ingersoll wrote that Paine’s The Rights of Man “was the greatest contribution that literature had given to liberty.”[1] The sole thesis of Paine’s argument for humanity’s rights was an argument from nature—his natural philosophy having been influenced by Isaac Newton. Epistemologically, Paine believed that “He who takes nature for his guide is not easily beaten out of his argument.”[2] Therefore, the greater breadth of his writings utilized the argument from nature to support his conclusions.

Paine wrote that he had obtained a general knowledge of natural philosophy as a child at which time he began to “confront” the evidence of Christianity.[3] He defined his natural philosophy as “the study of the works of God, and of the power and wisdom of God in his works.”[4] Therefore, Paine would retort, “Why then not trace the rights of man to the creation of man?”[5] Though Paine would later deconstruct the Bible as a whole, he borrowed from the Mosaic creation account for its “historical authority.”[6] Ingersoll wrote that despite Paine thinking that the Bible was “absurd and cruel,” he found that there were some good and useful things therein.[7]

On the surface, Paine seemed to only use the Bible in order to support his own suppositions and thereby reject the rest, but the same claim could be made of the apostle Paul quoting Greek poets in the Scriptures as well as Jude quoting 1 Enoch. Nevertheless, those particular passages that Paine found suiting to his views were those of a natural philosophic “nature” (i.e. Psalm 19). Considering Paine’s apparent study of comparative religions, he may have noted the natural elements throughout the various religions and thought of them as “historical” evidences of creation in order to employ the Mosaic creation account, but this is conjecture.

He pointed to the distinction of sexes as the only recorded distinction, and the Mosaic creation account of “the equality of man” was, to Paine, “the oldest upon record.”[8] Man’s natural rights were the foundation for his civil rights. The two were distinguished by Paine as thus:

Natural rights are those which appertain to man in right of his existence. Of this kind are all the intellectual rights, or rights of the mind, and also all those rights of acting as an individual for his own comfort and happiness, which are not injurious to the natural rights of others. Civil rights are those which appertain to man in right of his being a member of society.[9]

What must be understood of Paine is that when he refers to man’s natural rights he refers to “the natural dignity of man.” This dignity is “the honour and happiness of its character.”[10]

How these views, and the doctrine of natural rights, shaped the views of Paine is evident throughout his pamphlets. Governments “un-made” men by their activities which denied the natural rights of man. Hereditary succession was one of the most disputed notions by Paine in his writings, because hereditary succession was unnatural. While the monarchs claimed that their authority came from God, the truth was that kings and kingdoms were actually not God’s will according to the biblical account that Paine referenced in Common Sense. Therein, Paine argued that God reluctantly granted Israel a king. Prior to their history as a monarchical state, Israel was governed by judges and the elders of the tribes—a form of government that Paine identified as a “kind of republic.” Ergo, since the monarchs of Paine’s time argued for heavenly sanction, Paine went further into Heaven’s decrees in order to refute hereditary succession. He would also state that virtue is not hereditary, so to claim that one man’s rule would be in tandem with another’s who was virtuous was to ignore the “natural” truth about human nature.

One of the strongest NATURAL proofs of the folly of hereditary rights in kings, is, that nature disproves it, otherwise, she would not so frequently turn it into ridicule by giving mankind an ASS FOR A LION.[11]

Another view for which Paine argued on nature’s basis was the freedom of a person’s mind. This argument was especially useful in dissolving the notion of an established church, because one should practice their religion “according to the dictates of conscience.”[12] The natural rights of man’s intellect belonged to one’s religious choice as long as it did not impede the natural rights of another.[13]

With respect to what are called denominations of religion, if every one is left to judge of its own religion, there is no such thing as a religion that is wrong; but if they are to judge of each other’s religion, there is no such thing as a religion that is right; and therefore all the world is right, or all the world is wrong. But with respect to religion itself, without regard to names, and as directing itself from the universal family of mankind to the Divine object of all adoration, it is man bringing to his Maker the fruits of his heart; and though those fruits may differ from each other like the fruits of the earth, the grateful tribute of every one is accepted.[14]

At the time that Paine argued for religious liberty, the country supported a state church. The result of dissenting groups such as Puritans, and from them Quakers, and later Baptists, was persecution. Paine believed that in man’s natural state to make up his own mind, he should choose that sort of devotion that he believed was his “conscientious” devotion to the Almighty as long as it did not obstruct or violate another’s choice.

Paine would argue that persecution was not an original feature of religion, but that it was always the feature of all law-religions, or religions established by law. If the lawfulness of a religion was taken away, then every religion would assume its own “benignity.” As a testimony to the detriments of the union of the state and religion, Paine cited the effects that such union had on Spain.[15]

Eventually, as history records, liberty would be won both politically and religiously. The poet Joel Barlow reflected on Paine’s contribution to the Revolution. He wrote that “without the pen of Paine, the sword of Washington would have been wielded in vain.”[16] While the actual fight took place on the battlefield with Washington, Paine’s battlefield was in the mind. Barlow aptly noted this sentiment by realizing that minds had to change more than battles could win.

Now, more than ever, Americans should read the works of Paine, especially The Rights of Man. With so many elected officials acting as kings dictating to people how to live in the era of COVID-19, were the American populace aware of the founders’ belief about human rights, none of this would be acceptable. In my own Commonwealth of Kentucky, the governor has unilaterally ruled the state since March and came out with new restrictions as recent as yesterday. Rumors abound that he will make “suggestions” to churches today. Nevertheless, from my recollection, he was silent while protests and demonstrations abounded around the state—a right acknowledged and protected by the very same amendment that addresses religious liberty.

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

Amendment 1, United States Constitution

He has earlier advised churches to not meet, and the first amendment clearly states that the free exercise of religion shall not be prohibited. The mantra in response is usually, “Your rights end where my life begins,” and as a premise, this is factual. However, the way it’s employed is manipulative. No one forces those concerned for their lives to go out into the public. If they are so concerned, they should do the responsible thing and assume whatever risk exists if they decide to go into public. Otherwise, their fear is violating the rights of others who simply want to live their life in pursuit of happiness. That’s what’s liberty is all about: assuming your own risk.


[1] Robert G. Ingersoll, “Thomas Paine,” The North American Review 155, no. 429 (Aug., 1892): 181–95.

[2] Common Sense  (Appendix). 

[3] The Age of Reason 1.11.

[4] Ibid., 1.8. Cf. Thomas Paine, “A Discourse Delivered to the Society of Theophilanthropists, at Paris”; and “The Existence of God: A Discourse at the Society of Theophilanthropists, Paris.”

[5]Thomas Paine,  The Rights of Man, in Thomas Paine Collection (Forgotten Books, 2007), 88.

[6] Ibid., 89.

[7] Ingersoll, 189-90.

[8] Paine, Ibid. 

[9] Ibid., 90.

[10] Ibid., 92. Paine’s theories on happiness and being a member of society are reminiscent of Aristotle (cf. Ethics 1.13).

[11] Common Sense (Of Monarchy and Hereditary Succession).

[12] Ibid. (Thoughts on the Present State of American Affairs).

[13] The Rights of Man, 90.

[14] Ibid., 107. 

[15] Ibid., 108. 

[16] Harvey J. Kaye, Thomas Paine and the Promise of America (New York: Hill and Wang, 2005), 5.

Women Serving At the Door of the Tabernacle of Meeting?

I’m currently studying 1 & 2 Samuel (1 & 2 Kingdoms; LXX) for my own personal benefit, and I have two resources upon which I’m relying. The first is Robert Alter, The David Story and Robert Bergen’s commentary on 1 & 2 Samuel in The New American Commentary series. Now, 1 & 2 Samuel isn’t anything new to me, but the last time I gave them a good study was several years ago. Since I’ve grown and learned more in the years since, it’s always nice to revisit an old friend to see what more one can learn.

Thus far I’m through the second chapter, but something has caught my attention that I’d not noticed before.

Now Eli was very old; and he heard everything his sons did to all Israel, and how they lay with the women who assembled at the door of the tabernacle of meeting.

1 Samuel 2:22

Alter translates the term “assembled” as “flocked,” but Bergen translates it as “served.” While Alter’s translation more resembles the idea of what the NKJV has, Bergen’s piqued my interest. I set out to investigate this term that can be rendered as “assemble” or “serve,” because the two notions are significantly different ideas. How did these two come to different translations and renderings that are miles apart?

Our Hebrew term rendered as “assembled” here in 1 Samuel 2:22 appears in Exodus 38:8 as “serving” in the NKJV, so in one instance they give it as “assemble” while in another as “serve.” In Robert Alter’s work, The Five Books of Moses, his note on Exodus 38:8 reads,

Although most modern interpreters opt for the sense of service, there are two difficulties with that construction. The cult was administered by males, and there is scant evidence of a quasi-sacerdotal function performed outside the sanctuary by women.

Bergen also suggests that these women may have been Nazarite women involved in volunteer service at the Tent (cf. Num. 6:2). Upon further investigation, the term under question is often employed regarding military service and troops, though as an idiom it’s applied to the Levites. When we survey the Septuagint, the translators substituted the term “fasting” for this one whereas the Vulgate has them “keeping watch.” A comparative study undertaken has yielded the possibility that the women in question from Exod and 1 Sam were cultic prostitutes who may have aged out of prostitution and, therefore, offered their mirrors as votive offerings, though it isn’t necessary that we view them as retiring prostitutes.1

One thing is for sure, there have been numerous comments made on the matter and a variety of opinions as to who these women were and whether they “served” or “assembled” at the Tabernacle. Scholars disagree as a whole what to make of this. In Exod the women appear with mirrors while in 1 Sam they appear without mirrors, but the majority of articles that I’ve perused connects the women of 1 Sam 2:22 with those of Exod 38:8, given the similarities. What are we to make of it?

Notes

1 Laura Elizabeth Quick, “Through a Glass, Darkly: Reflections on the Translations and Interpretation of Exodus 38:8,” CBQ 81, no. 4 (Oct. 2019): 595–612. Consider also Janet S. Everhart, “Serving Women and Their Mirrors: A Feminist Reading of Exodus 38:8b,” CBQ 66, no. 1 (Jan. 2004): 44–54.

Why Does God Demand Worship?

Watching a debate between a theologian and an atheist (Christopher Hitchens), once years ago, the latter claimed that God was an egotistical maniac because of how the former talked about God deserving to be worshipped and humanity having been made for His glory. The theologian stated something along the lines of a man having to worship God, praise Him, and adore Him, and the atheist said that God sounded like an attention-starved teenager—a divine narcissist; that He’s vain. 

I’d never thought of it in these terms. I believe humanity is naturally wired to worship and adore. However, what we cherish and value can be God Himself or an idol. No one bats an eye when sports fans, concert-goers, or political rally attendees hoot and holler praise and adore the one on the stage. They aren’t worthy of such, yet we give it to them anyway. We admire them in a way meant to be reserved to God alone. Even when the national anthem is played, we assume a specific posture, remove our hats, salute, or either put our hand on our heart in a manner of veneration. Humanity is made to worship. 

Our English term “worship” isn’t likely the best because it’s pretty much a catch-all word. Augustine depicts this reality in his work, The City of God.

For this is the worship which is due to the Divinity … and to express this worship in a single word as there does not occur to me any Latin term sufficiently exact, I shall avail myself, whenever necessary, of a Greek word. Latreia, whenever it occurs in Scripture, is rendered by the word service. But that service which is due to men, and in reference to which the apostle writes that servants must be subject to their own masters … is usually designated by another word in Greek, whereas service which is paid to God alone by worship, is always, or almost always, called latreia [cf. Matt. 4:10] in the usage of those who wrote from divine oracles. (10.1.2; c. 413–426 CE)   

Latreia is but one term used to denote worship of God and is often translated as “serve.” The word from John 4:23–24 is proskuneo—which usually indicates knee-bending or prostrating worship (Matt. 2:11; cf. Rev. 19:10). We might use the term “grovel” to best understand this word, and it would be out of adoration or even fear, but not with the negative connotation it often carries today. When we turn to Romans 12:1, the NKJV renders “reasonable service” for logiken latreian. Other translations might have “spiritual [rational] worship.” 

First, let’s establish one truth: God doesn’t need our worship (Acts 17:24–25). Unlike other deities in other ancient religions, God does not need our worship. If we worship Him, nothing is added to Him. If we fail to worship Him, nothing is taken away from Him. If either of those propositions were true, then He couldn’t be God. Second, the common objection is that the tyrants [e.g. Kim Jong Un] of the world demand adoration and praise, so God can be no different from them by His demand for such, right? Wrong! God is morally perfect, uniquely pure, and stands alone. Unlike tyrants and dictators, He did not come into being and will not cease to be as they do. Unlike them, he wishes nothing but the best for His creation rather than, like them, having their self-serving desires. Unlike them, he doesn’t do what He does to maintain power or conquer because the world is already His. He will not be demoted. He shall never be defeated. 

God created this world, and He made you and me. As a loving Father—which is how we often view Him—He considers the relationship between Him and us as akin to a marriage. He regarded Israel as His bride, and there’s no more explicit description of this reality than in the book of Hosea. He is the bridegroom of His bride, the church. Imagine if we are to be as a bride to Him love, adore, and stand in reverent awe of something created rather than Him. Put it another way, imagine if your spouse lavished praise and adoration, gave loving glances to another person than you. You and I are naturally moved to jealousy, and God is no different. He is a jealous God (Exod. 20:5). We’ve seen how we humans are natural beings that admire, praise, and worship, but God alone is worthy of it. God alone is deserving of it, and it’s to Him alone; we should give it.

Being Christian During Election Season

When I was twenty-five years old, I had become politically active. I’d formed my basic political philosophy and posted incessantly on Facebook a host of articles and links that I believed would help everyone convert to my side. Then, one day, I received a letter in the mail from an elder minister whom I respected much. His message’s greatest takeaway was that he noted that not everyone would share my views—my Christian faith supported ideas that I happened to believe. Because this was a reality, he encouraged that I weigh the possibility that by being so politically active aloud, I may risk alienating someone by my views, which I might otherwise be able to share the gospel with. While it seems an obvious point, it was one I hadn’t considered, and the most important thing to me was the work that I do for Jesus above and beyond any political view that I might hold. 

Since then, I’ve sought to maintain a separation of church and state, if you will. I still have opinions, and I keep up with things, but I don’t always express my feelings because my allegiance to Jesus is the most valuable commitment I’ve ever made. Therefore, I endeavor to preach the Kingdom of God’s politics exclusively. If I’m to be known for where I stand relative to anything, I want it to be concerning my Christianity and not necessarily my political views. There are indeed issues here or there that are guided by my Christianity—such as the sanctity of life—so I’m never fearful of speaking about individual matters. They may be fleshed out in Scripture, but not partisan platforms.

One sad reality is how some brethren think their party’s platform is equivalent to Christianity. The two major parties aren’t perfect because they aren’t the Kingdom of God. They are servants of the citizenry, and their main concern always seems to be the next election. Here’s what concerns me—politics is seeping into the church in a way that some brethren believe their opinions on matters here or there are akin to the will of God. This is creating a division among us. It may not be as apparent to some, but a division is beginning to surface. 

Were Paul to write 1 Corinthians 1:12–13 today, here’s how it would read: 

Now I say this, that each of you says, “I am of the Republicans,” or “I am of the Democrats,” or “I am of the Libertarians,” or “I am of Christ.” Is Christ divided? Were the Democrats crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of the Republicans?

Brothers and sisters, I am not willing to become divided because you may see something different than I do, especially earthly politics. Neither will I frame my prayers in such a way that they seem partisan. Prayer isn’t a sounding board for politics. We’re indeed commanded to pray for our governing leaders, but how we pray for them needs to square with God’s will. Notice what Paul urged Timothy: 

Therefore I exhort first of all that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks be made for all men, for kings and all who are in authority, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and reverence. For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. (1 Tim. 2:1–4)

Today, in congregational prayers, we typically reserve a more significant part of our praying to ask God for things. This is an aspect of prayer (cf. James 5:13–16; 1 Peter 5:7), but there’s also the focus, as Paul points out here, of praying for specific things for others and simply giving thanks. 

These categories of prayer focus on “that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and reverence” (1 Tim. 2:2). Therefore, the subject of such prayers was to have been everyone, even those in authority. Perhaps Paul has in mind those who incorrectly taught the Law and Hymenaeus and Alexander, whom he’d already mentioned in this letter. Praying for those who we find troublesome is an excellent way to order our hearts toward them rightly. Paul isn’t saying anything new, but admonishing Timothy as Jesus would have: “But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven” (Matt. 5:44–45; cf. Rom. 12:7–21). Timothy was to have prayed for all people because God wants all to be saved (1 Tim. 2:4).

In addition to remembering everyone in prayer, there’s also the mention of kings and authority. Our American society’s climate is so politically charged that I doubt very much that we Christians are prayerful of our governing leaders as we should be. Instead, we embroil ourselves in “gotcha” politics wherein we are the most ungracious and partisan. If I were to judge by what so many brethren post on Facebook and Twitter, we follow not the Prince of Peace, but the Devil of Division. Were we to pray for our governing leaders as God would have us, we would likely not be so vitriolic against them despite agreeing or disagreeing with policy decisions. Let’s face it—we’re a prosperous nation, the likes of which the world had not seen until our country became its own. Any discomfort we experience is a high-class problem that a decent portion of the world will never share, but we moan and groan as if it’s the world’s end. 

As we think about corrupt, unjust rulers, and who most would say deserve what they got coming to them, let’s remember that as Paul has already said, “Jesus came to save sinners.” He desires all men to be saved, and we should have that same desire too. Think about when David was fleeing the murderous intentions of King Saul. On a couple of occasions, David could have murdered Saul quickly. After all, Saul was a sinful man whom the Lord had rejected as king. God gave him an evil spirit to torment him, but when David had those chances to take Saul’s life, he refused to do so, saying, “The LORD forbid that I should do this thing to my master, the LORD’s anointed, to stretch out my hand against him, seeing he is the anointed of the LORD” (1 Sam. 24:6). All that David had done was to cut the corner off Saul’s robe because he’d gotten that close, but his heart troubled him since he did that. David said pretty much the same thing on another occasion, affirming that he would not harm Saul despite how evil and rejected he was because he was anointed by God (1 Sam. 26:11). No one would have blamed David had he done such, but he didn’t because Saul was God’s anointed no matter how sinful he’d been. 

I think it striking that David maintained respect and reverence towards the man who occupied the same position that God had rejected him from being and sought to end his life. Nevertheless, David took God’s anointing seriously so that even after being rejected by God, Saul was still one worthy of respect in David’s mind. We see Paul later acting similarly when he was on trial before the Sanhedrin. After beginning to address those present, the high priest ordered him stricken, and Paul replied by reviling the high priest. After it was disclosed to Paul that he’d cursed the high priest, Paul repented with the invocation of a passage from Exodus, “You shall not speak evil of a ruler of your people” (Acts 23:1–5). Despite the high priest acting contrary to the law, Paul still knew that he was worthy of respect because of his position. Perhaps instead of saying that we respect the office but not the person, we could look at the office occupying. As Paul instructs Timothy, pray for those occupying it and not separate the occupier from the station itself. 

God is not so detached from creation that He doesn’t play any part in it. It is He who establishes and tears down kingdoms (Jer. 18:7–10). Interestingly enough, kings’ hearts are like streams in the Lord’s hands, and He turns them wherever He wants (Prov. 21:1). God can divert the channels wherever He chooses, so regardless of whoever is in power, He can do with them what He wishes for His ultimate purpose. If we spent our time prayerfully praying God’s blessings and best for our governing leaders (cf. 1 Peter 2:13–17; Rom. 13:1–7), we might not speak so unkindly of them. It would be somewhat hypocritical to pray for God to use those in authority for His good while at the same time criticizing everything they do.

Understanding Romans 13 in the First Century

In June 2015, my uncle Jim ascended the lectern at my grandfather’s funeral services and read from Romans 13:1–7. Granddaddy had been an Air Force veteran and retired as a Captain with the Metro Police Department in Nashville, TN. He was one of the Department’s K-9 division founding members, and his late K-9, Bam-Bam, was Nashville’s first-ever. Having grown up on over sixty acres north of Nashville, our family was accustomed to a life different from most families. When my daddy (step) and uncles grew up in the seventies, granddaddy was a K-9 officer and later a special tactics officer, even working in the vice squad—riding undercover with Hell’s Angels for some time. Because of this, everyone knew how to wield a firearm, more so from hunting, and gram would carry the wash to hang on the clothesline with a shotgun atop the basket that she’d lay aside while she hung laundry. There was always a fear that granddaddy’s cover would be blown and that any enemies he’d made would target his family. If that were to happen, his family would be prepared.

The passage here under consideration is read through the lenses of the esteem and honor of those who serve governing authorities as servants of God. You’ll notice that this authority is from God and appointed by God (13:1). To resist governing authorities is to resist God Himself because of their work, which brings judgment (13:2). Twice is the same term used of them: officers in the church—diakonos—“minister” (13:4). Because these officials exist by the will of God and through the apparatus of civil government, they are tasked with keeping the peace and executing judgment on evildoers. Despite societal narratives today, these servants of God “do not bear the sword in vain” (13:4)—the same one, the short-sword, used in the execution of James (Acts 12:1–2). It is used both for good and in unjust ways, unfortunately, but is meant for good. This sense of service to God and our fellow man is how we were brought up, and it’s why we still have officers and military members in the family. As one author put it, “This is not a capitulation to pagan power but a fervent affirmation of divine authority over civil powers.”[1]

The First Century Understanding of this Passage

We need to understand the zeitgeist of first-century Rome to better understand the climate into which Paul wrote. The second-century BCE historian, Polybius noted that Rome had in fifty-three years subdued the inhabited world (Hist. 1.1). This feat obviously spoke about something impressive regarding the Empire, but what was it? The divine purpose of Rome, so it was believed, was to create a united language and bring civilization to all of humanity[2] while bringing the whole world under the rule of law (Aen. 4.231). Cicero held that Rome was the home of virtue and imperial power and that the Empire’s borders weren’t fixed by the earth but by the sky.[3] All indications pointed to the belief that Rome’s manifest destiny to subdue the entire world and make it, for the lack of a better term, Roman. This was accomplished more so by conquest than conversion. When you put up these beliefs about the Empire against the gospel’s universal call, you can see that the two might find themselves at the opposite ends of one another.

Shades of this tension appear as early as the New Testament. The disciples of Jesus were accused of having turned the world upside down. How? By allegedly defying Caesar’s decrees and calling Jesus King (Acts 17:6–7). In the first century, the Romans feared that a conquest upon themselves by Jews. A couple of texts point to this end.

The majority firmly believed that their ancient priestly writings contained the prophecy that this was the very time when the East should grow strong and that men starting from Judea should possess the world. (Tacitus, Hist. 5.13)

There had spread over all the Orient an old and established belief, that it was fated at that time for men coming from Judaea to rule the world. (Seut. Vesp. 4.5)

The belief that Christians a threat to the Empire appears in the first century and also the second. Pliny the Younger, who was governor of Pontus and Bithynia from 111–113 CE, exchanged letters with the emperor Trajan over the matter. Pliny was himself unclear as to the offense that Christians had committed, but he knew his orders were to round them up and either get them to recant and curse the name of Jesus, or they would be executed.

Those who denied that they were or had been Christians, when they invoked the gods in words dictated by me, offered prayer with incense and wine to your image, which I had ordered to be brought for this purpose together with statues of the gods, and moreover cursed Christ–none of which those who are really Christians, it is said, can be forced to do–these I thought should be discharged. (Epistles 10.96–97)

By the third century, the crime was “treason, chiefly against the Roman religion.”[4] Rome believed that the gods had so blessed them not because of faith because the notion was foreign to the ancient Romans. You didn’t have to believe. You just had to participate in cultic acts, such as prayer, incense, and libation, among other such things. That’s all you had to do, and there was always enough room reserved for another god to add. Because Christians attributed “Lord” to Jesus and refused to do so to “Caesar,” they were traitors. Because they refused to perform the specific cultic acts to the gods that shone favor on Rome, they were traitors.

The Roman letter bears out that these believers had struggled because they professed Jesus as Lord. They encountered tribulations (Rom. 5:3–5); they suffered (Rom. 8:18, 31–35); they were persecuted (Rom. 12:14). How might they respond? The natural inclination is to raise an army, take up arms, and fight, but this wasn’t the way Christ taught. Why depose one despot for another that is subject to being replaced himself? No, King Jesus will always reign, and the kingdom is in His hands, so earthly rulers will come and go, but Christ is still on His throne. The way Christians behave is to act with the self-sacrificial love of Jesus, even toward the civil government. Paul begins this in Romans 12:9–21. This is how Christians live when the government is hostile towards them, and their duty towards government is entailed in Romans 13:1–7. After Paul acknowledged the responsibility of civil government, he once more reminds Christians of the value of loving their neighbor in Romans 13:8–10, and by 13:11–14, he explains that regardless of what government does, we are respectful and submissive because they exist by God’s will.


[1] As quoted in Scot McKnight and Joseph B. Modica, eds., Jesus is Lord Caesar is Not: Evaluating Empire in New Testament Studies (Kindle ed., Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2013), loc. 2995.

[2] Ibid., loc. 337.

[3] De Oratore 1.196; In Catilinam 3.26.

[4] Tert. Apol. 24.1.