How to Read Leviticus Without Getting Discouraged

Many Christians plan to read their Bibles through in a year. Typically, they begin at the beginning, and by the time they arrive at the latter part of Exodus, it becomes cumbersome. Then, once you get to Leviticus, you might find yourself a tad discouraged. Here’s another way to look at Leviticus.

A mother had instructed her son not to play in a particular part of the woods behind their house because it was occupied by a family of skunks. One day, however, the son decided to inspect this area to learn more about skunks, since his curiosity was too intense to resist. At first glance, they seemed like cats, but with specific coloring. He moved in to see if he could hold one, but the younger ones moved away as the father stood his ground. As skunks often will do to warn, the father walked on his two front feet, putting the rest of his body in the air, as if he were walking on his hands. The little boy thought the skunk was doing a trick, so he moved closer, and then the father lifted his tail, took aim, and sprayed the boy with the noxious odor to repel him. 

The boy ran frantically home, coughing and choking over the stench. As he cried out for his mother, she came to the front porch, and as her beloved son approached, she caught a whiff of the skunk and knew what had happened. She commanded the boy to stop because she couldn’t tolerate the odor. She didn’t stop loving her son, but he wouldn’t come into the house smelling like that. So what did the mother do? She didn’t hate her son. She didn’t reject her son. She wanted to help him. She prepared one of their troughs with a solution made of laundry detergent, peroxide, and baking soda. She placed her son in the trough and scrubbed him till the smell was gone. Then, he was able to come into the house, sit in his mother’s lap, and be comforted. When we think about sin and its effect, it’s similar to this story. We have become tainted by sin and its odorous effect, so we can’t come into God’s presence. However, God doesn’t look at us with hatred and malice, but with compassion and grace. He prepares a solution for us so that our sins may be removed and we can come into His presence once more.

When God chose His special people, Israel, He wished to dwell among them. However, for Israel to live in God’s presence, God provided remedies by which He could dwell in their midst, and they could approach Him. This is what we read about in the book of Leviticus. What’s important to remember is the ending of Exodus, however, because it gives sense to the first verse of Leviticus. 

Then the cloud covered the tabernacle of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. And Moses was not able to enter the tabernacle of meeting, because the cloud rested above it, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle. Whenever the cloud was taken up from above the tabernacle, the children of Israel would go onward in all their journeys. But if the cloud was not taken up, then they did not journey till the day that it was taken up. For the cloud of the LORD was above the tabernacle by day, and fire was over it by night, in the sight of all the house of Israel, throughout all their journeys. (Exod. 40:34–38)

The glory—kavod literally means “weightiness”—of God is best thought of as a mantle of light enveloping God, and the cloud gave off the luminosity by day and appeared as fire by night.¹ When Moses first saw the Lord’s presence in the burning bush, he hid his face because he was afraid to look upon God (Exod. 3:6). Later, however, Moses’ faith in God had grown exponentially to the point that he wanted to see the glory of God. Still, he couldn’t see anything but the “goodness,” because seeing God’s face would have killed Moses (Exod. 33:18–23). Even then, God protected Moses from seeing Him. 

After Moses communed with Yahweh, he came from Mt. Sinai with his face shining (Exod. 34:29–35). There’s a great lesson from this passage: The fear of Israel upon seeing Moses’ face parallels that of their fear of drawing near to God. Similarly, because Moses would cover his face with a veil when among Israel, this demonstrates that the holy of holies had to be partitioned off and enveloped in layers, yet accessible to the people.² Now, when we arrive at Leviticus, the question arises: “How can a people stained with sin live among the holiness of which they are afraid?” For the priests of Israel and the rituals prescribed in Leviticus, God provides in His mercy and grace the ways that He can be among a sinful people, and they dwell in His holy presence. It’s best to think of God’s holiness as the sun, which in its unadulterated form is powerful, and anything mortal that gets near it will burn up. The sun doesn’t hate such things but consumes them. 

To outline Leviticus, we must identify its three major components: Sacrifices (Lev. 1–7, 23–37), Priests (Lev. 8–10, 21–22), and Purity (Lev. 11–15, 18–20). The sacrifices are ways to say “thank you” (i.e., grain and fellowship offerings) or “I’m sorry” (burnt, sin, and guilt offerings). Some of these occur on holy days when festivals were held. These were times of celebration to retell Israel’s history and explain why God chose them. Mediating these sacrifices were individual representatives who advocated for the people, called “priests.” These servants worked so closely to God’s presence that they were chosen to represent God to the people and the people to God. Such people were ordained and had to live by higher standards, similar to those of our pastors. Finally, the purity laws concerned cleanliness and uncleanliness. Cleanliness or purity is a state in which one can be in God’s presence, whereas the opposite is that of uncleanliness. Some of these concerned sexual relationships, social justice, and interpersonal relationships. These categories summarize the second-greatest command: to love your neighbor as yourself. Summing up the greatest commandment to love God with our whole being, we find that it includes dietary laws, skin diseases, dead bodies, and bodily fluids. Many of the latter three concerned life and death: one was sacred, and the others resulted from sin. Going before God in an impure state was inappropriate. 

Tucked in the middle of the book is the Day of Atonement. On this day, the entire nation had sinned, perhaps unnoticed and unknown. The high priest would atone for the whole country by taking two goats and slaying one whose blood was brought to God’s presence to atone for the sins. God has said that the blood of a creature was life, so the life of the goat was to take the place of Israel and the penalty of their sin. The other goat was presented to the priest, who would lay his hand upon its head, confess the sins of the nation, and send the goat out into the wilderness, carrying the sins of the country away from them into the barren land. By this goat, God graciously removed Israel’s sins. 

Christ became not only our high priest but did so while being tempted yet remaining pure (Heb. 4:14–16). As the high priest, not only offered the perfect offering but was Himself the offering so that He could go into the true holy of holies to minister for us (Heb. 9:11–14). What we learn from Leviticus only prepares us for the cross. Jesus Christ is now how we may live in the presence of the holy God. 


¹ Robert Alter, The Five Books of Moses: A Translation with a Commentary (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, 2004), 535.

² Ibid., 513. 

Intro to 1 Peter

Writing from Rome (which he calls “Babylon” in 5:13), along with John, Mark, Peter addresses a network of churches that comprises modern-day Turkey. Early church writers made explicit citations of 1 Peter as early as the 90s AD, through to the latter part of the second century, which attests to the authority of the letter as well as its apostolicity. How the gospel came to be in this area isn’t altogether clear, but we know that Jewish believers from some of these areas were present on Pentecost (Acts 2:8–11). Additionally, Emperor Claudius (AD 41–54) established Roman colonies in these regions.

One central question is who the audience was: Jewish, Gentile, or both. The descriptor of “pilgrims of the Dispersion” was typically how Jewish exiles from Judea were addressed (cf. James 1:1). There are also further descriptors such as “Sarah’s children” (1 Peter 3:6), “God’s elect” (1 Peter 1:1, 2, 4, 9) and those called to holiness (1 Peter 1:15–16). They are also contrasted with Gentiles (1 Peter 2:12; 4:3), but by this time, all Christians might have been considered as one with Jewish believers, and the Gentiles were non-Christians. However, we also know that Peter was an apostle to the circumcised (Gal. 2:9), and readers from Eusebius in the fourth century to John Calvin agree that the primary audience is Jewish Christians. Still, some descriptors indicate pagans were among the audience (1 Peter 1:14, 18; 2:9–10, 25; 4:3), but prophetic language sometimes regarded apostate Israelites as pagans. We can assume there’s a mixture and that this letter would not have been sectarian or racially distinguishing between believers in Jesus (cf. Rom. 8:29–30).

The entirety of the letter addresses their suffering, which was likely caused by social scorn, shaming, slander, and stigma. They were likely viewed as social deviants and may have faced verbal and physical pressure to return to the norm. Given that Christianity grew out of Judaism, we can look to history to see how Jews were viewed to get a picture of how these Christians were regarded. Rome banished Jews on some occasions. There was a time when Tiberius was emperor, and again during Claudius’ reign. Claudius viewed them with animosity from the beginning of his reign. When Christianity was young, Jews were expelled from Rome. In Christianity’s earliest decades, it bore no outward distinction from Judaism as perceived by the Romans. The Jews were expelled at the instigation of “Chrestus,” according to Suetonius. 

When Diodorus wrote about Antiochus Epiphanes subduing the Jews, he referred to their customs as “wicked.” Cicero also viewed the Jews as enemies because of their behavior when they assembled. They showed no regard for the interests or laws of the Republic, and that won them no favor with Rome. Because they wanted to keep Judea pure from Roman occupation and rule, they resisted Rome. Their actions were rebellious and drew attention to the Jewish religion as the source of their unruliness and eventual disdain by the Romans. Horace believed that they were manipulative and coercive. He viewed them as always proselytizing and forcing others to join their religion. Because they proselytized, many were Jews by conversion rather than birth.  Furthermore, they believed in silly superstitions and were weaker because of their Sabbath keeping. Juvenal viewed their Sabbath keeping as idleness. Their customs were “base and abominable,” and they were the worst villains among all other peoples. As a race, they were believed to have been a curse to others, and Moses, their lawmaker, was detested. While many Jews upheld practices that distinguished them from other people, those who observed them wrote about the Jews’ hypocrisy in doing some of the very things that they seemed opposed to otherwise. If early Christians were treated anything like Jews, we get but a glimpse of it in this letter. Peter urges them to identify with Christ’s suffering (1 Peter 4:12–16) and await eternal glory (1 Peter 1:7; 2:11; 4:13; 5:4, 10–11). 


Works Referenced

 Acts 18:2; Suet. Claud. 25.4.

 Diodorus, Bibl. Hist. 34.1.3.

 Cicero, Flacc. 28.66–69.

 Horace, Sat. 1.4.142–3; cf. Matt. 23:15.

 Acts 2:10; 13:43. Cf. Juvenal, Sat. 14.102–03. A Gentile could become Jewish by circumcision, immersion, and a sacrifice (Keritot 9a; cf. Pesahim 8.8; Exod. 24:8).However, Gentile conversion was not always welcomed and in some cases was even rejected.

Juvenal, Sat. 1.5.100. To the Roman mind, anything other than what had been appointed at the founding of Rome was “vile and alien” (Livy 39.15.3). See also Juvenal, Sat. 15.1–13.

 Juvenal, Sat. 14.96, 105–06.

 Tacitus, Hist. 5.5.

 Quintilian, Inst. 3.7.21.

Not Far Enough for John Smyth

Many didn’t believe the church went far enough when England became Protestant. Those who read Scripture and applied it rather stringently were called Puritans. While some Puritans argued against episcopacy, others saw it as applicable but not divinely ordered. They argued for elders in each congregation; among those who argued for this, some believed congregations should be independent, and they were called Presbyterians. Baptists arose among the independents at the behest of an Anglican priest, John Smyth. Because of their views, they were persecuted by Mary Tudor, which led to their exile in Amsterdam. 

While in Amsterdam, Smyth studied Scripture and determined that infant baptism was invalid, so he took a bucket and ladle and poured water over his head and that of his followers. The early custom of the Baptists wasn’t immersion but pouring over a believer’s head. Returning to England, they established the first Baptist Church in 1612. Two schools of thought arose between Baptists—many agreed with John Calvin’s doctrine of predestination. Others followed the belief of Jacobus Arminius, who rejected predestination and advocated that God had limited control concerning man’s freedom and response. These were called Arminians and were known as General Baptists. The other group was referred to as “Particular Baptists.” 

Today, there are a variety of Baptist Churches. 

  1. Independent Baptists are autonomous as opposed to Southern Baptists, who are primarily governed by the decisions of the Southern Baptist Convention. Those that aren’t independent send a percentage of their funds to a general fund overseen by the convention or association to which it belongs. The convention determines the financial and spiritual priorities of the congregations under their umbrella. 
  2. Primitive Baptists are largely Calvinist and can somewhat resemble Pentecostals. They trust the Spirit to move in their worship, which can take a person anywhere. There is a Pentecostal Free Will Baptist church that believes in free will. Then again, there are Free Will Baptist Churches, too. 
  3. Seven-Day Baptists hold the Sabbath as sacred and binding. This type of Baptist Church was first established in America in Newport, Rhode Island, in 1671. 
  4. Missionary Baptist Churches focus on evangelism and helping the local community. 
  5. Baptist Churches that are called “First Baptist Church” are to suggest that they were the first in the town or community. 
  6. There are more than 65 Baptist denominations, but the majority belong to just five. 

Many churches have eliminated denominational titles because they indicate division and the bad press associated with things that have occurred. One of the hallmarks of many evangelical groups, with which Baptists are often associated, is the sinner’s prayer. In 2012, David Platt, a Baptist minister, criticized the sinner’s prayer as unbiblical and superstitious. 

Thomas Kidd informs that Anglo-American Puritans and evangelicals used the phrase “receive Christ into your heart” in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The phrase became more formalized during the nineteenth-century missionary movement and was a helpful way to explain that a person needed to make the personal decision to follow Jesus. This phrase’s commonality rose in the 1970s. Kidd also notes that George Whitefield published a hymn called “A Sinner’s Prayer.” 

God of my salvation, hear, and help me believe:

Simply would I now draw near, thy blessings to receive.

Full of guilt, alas I am, but to thy wounds for refuge flee; 

Friend of sinners, spotless lamb, they blood was shed for me.

One thing they believe that’s a significant divergence from us is that you can be saved before baptism. Also, they don’t partake in the Lord’s Supper weekly and use instruments. On this last point, this development is only 200 years old. Even some of their number opposed instruments.

“I would just as soon pray with machinery as to sing with machinery.” —Charles Spurgeon (Baptist) on Psalm 42

“Staunch old Baptists in former times would have as soon tolerated the Pope of Rome in their pulpits as an organ in their galleries. And yet the instrument has gradually found its way among them and their successors in church management, with nothing like the jars and difficulties which arose of old concerning the bass viol and smaller instrument of music.” —David Benedict (Baptist Historian) “Fifty Years among the Baptists”

Preceding Baptists, Mennonites, and Quakers was a group referred to as Anabaptists. As far back as the fifth century, when infant baptism was made the standard, as seen in the fifth Council of Carthage (ca. AD 401), dissidents who would be baptized as adults after being so as infants were called such. Their congregations grew and did well during the Roman Empire despite Catholicism persecuting them. Many were called Novatianists (third-century), Donatists (fourth-century), Albigenses, and Waldenses. Baptists often consider themselves inheritors of this history.

What is “Sound Doctrine?” 

The term “doctrine” derives from Latin and is related to the word “doctor,” which means “teacher.” When we think of doctors today, we think of medical practitioners, but in the Roman Empire, doctors were instructors in a specific field. Therefore, “doctrine” means “teaching.” The Greek term is also fitting for this translation. Christian doctrine derives from commandments focused on “love from a pure heart, a good conscience, and from sincere faith” (1 Tim. 1:5). Paul uses “sound doctrine” (1 Tim. 1:10) to describe how the law ought to be used, and it’s connected to one’s behavior. In Titus 2:1, Paul wrote, “But as for you, speak the things which are proper for sound doctrine.” The term “sound” also refers to those who are physically well instead of sick (Luke 5:31; 7:10; 3 John 2). When the prodigal son returned, he was received safe and “sound” (Luke 15:27). All other usages refer to doctrine, not physical health. Still, there’s a lesson herein: those who are physically healthy are sound, or well, so it may reasonably follow that those who are spiritually healthy are sound too.

Many people denounce doctrine as too divisive. It can be, but it ought not to be. Some people exclaim, “I just want Jesus, don’t give me doctrine.” The fault in that statement is that we cannot separate the truths of Jesus from the Person of Jesus, so without sound doctrine, we have no Jesus. John contended with this in his day, “By this you will know the Spirit of God: Every spirit that confesses that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is of God, and every spirit that does not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is not of God. And this is the spirit of the Antichrist, which you have heard was coming, and is now already in the world” (1 John 4:2–3). The way some are today might have said, “Just give me Jesus. I don’t want doctrine,” but for John, it mattered whether or not Jesus appeared in the flesh as a matter of orthodoxy. We tend to dismiss such issues because they seem so minor. There are times when matters are minor, but there are also times when they aren’t. Paul was concerned with sound doctrine, too, and this was what Timothy was to teach and uphold. 

Those who lead sinful lives did not order their lives according to “sound doctrine” (1 Tim. 1:8–11; 6:1–5; 2 Tim. 4:3–5; Titus 2:1–10). When one reads all of these passages, we’re struck by how when sound doctrine is mentioned, behavior should follow. We can see here that those behaviors do not accord with sound doctrine, and anyone claiming to represent God is to call things what God calls them and exhort others to order their lives around sound doctrine. Sadly, many fear calling specific actions, lifestyles, or choices sinful, so we dilute orthodoxy to avoid hurting feelings. We can and should be able to call sin what it is and simultaneously be compassionate and loving towards sinners, among whom we are also counted. Sound doctrine, therefore, is spiritual health. When one is healthy, one manifests that in one’s actions. The spiritually healthy person formed by sound doctrine does the things that please God.

How do we get doctrine? Commandments, prohibitions, and examples are a few ways. When God commands something through one of his chosen prophets or mediums, we must do what is commanded. If he prohibits something the same way, we should not do what’s forbidden. If we note patterns of behavior that are commendable, we can mimic the action and know we are not doing wrong. The problem comes when we bind something that God has not bound.

Though Scripture is inspired, interpretation is not. We conclude when we take a topic and study it as a whole. Some conclusions are rather logical and can be taken at face value, but if an interpretation is questioned, there ought to be answers to justify it, or adjustments should be made. For example, “Abstain from every form of evil” (1 Thess. 5:22). In churches of Christ, I have observed some who have employed this passage to prohibit dancing. A reading of 1 Thessalonians would not have that in mind, but there is a way to use it. When Herodias danced before Herod, we might conclude that it was rather provocative (Mark 6:22). After all, he wanted to offer her anything. In this case, dancing can be viewed as sinful. We can’t say that all dancing is terrible. The older son in the parable of the prodigal son came near the house and “heard music and dancing” (Luke 15:25). This story is about rejoicing over a lost son returning to salvation, and they were dancing as a matter of celebration. 

No human is the arbiter of determining what is doctrine and shouldn’t be. One interpretation among some in churches of Christ is that the Holy Spirit indwells the believer by proxy–through the Word of God. Since some of us know more Scripture than others, do we have more of the Spirit? When you look at interpretations from the first few centuries, this conclusion hasn’t been reached as far as I have read. It’s hard for me to believe that doctrine because the earliest Christians had a different take. That doesn’t mean they’re always right, but it also doesn’t mean they’re wrong.

I believe it’s best for us to give grace to one another and assume the best. Just because I arrive at a different conclusion than you doesn’t mean I’m malicious. Some Christians read the creation account literally. I happen to take parts of it literally while considering how I understand that an ancient Near Eastern audience would have understood it. Still, I hold no ill will if someone reads it literally. We both love Jesus and want to serve God.

  

That Ugly Word: “Tradition”

In churches of Christ, the term “tradition” is a no-no. We associate tradition with creeds and confessions of faith created by denominational bodies. Many Americans were governed by the Philadelphia Confession of Faith a couple of centuries ago. The Westminster Confession of Faith led others. Then you have the Apostle’s Creed, the Nicene Creed, and more. While there are positives to having such definitive statements (“Don’t shoot me!”), our history has seen them result in division. For example, among Presbyterians were the Anti-Burghers, Auld Licht, Old-Light Anti-Burgher Seceders, and others. Among Methodists were the Episcopal Methodists and Republican Methodists. The Restoration Movement advocated doing away with these creeds and confessions of faith and going by the New Testament as our guide for being Christians and, therefore, the church. There are still splits among us: Disciples of Christ, Christian Church, Churches of Christ. Just among the churches of Christ are non-instrumental, non-institutional, one-cuppers, and others. We had noble intentions, but humanity is flawed no matter how hard we try to help ourselves. 

Matthew (15) and Mark (7) tell the story of Jesus rebuking tradition. Matthew wrote that the scribes and Pharisees accused Jesus’ disciples of “transgressing” the tradition of the elders (15:2). Mark explains washing hands for his audience. At the same time, Matthew assumes his audience understands this, hence some of the differences in the accounts. Jesus’ gripe with them was that their traditions nullified the word of God in how they circumvented the command to honor their father and mother. They used a loophole they created by saying that any funds that might be used to care for their elderly parents have been devoted to God. The Mishnah discusses how if something is consecrated to God, no one could benefit from it, similar to what Jesus says in Matthew 15:5 (cf. m. Ned. 5.6). These “traditions” circumvent God’s clearly stated will and when bound on others, cast them as transgressors. Here’s the deal: Scripture is inspired; interpretation is not inspired. Their interpretations of how to be pious and faithful to God contradicted the will of God. In this case, tradition is bad. 

What we sometimes do is view all traditions as “bad.” Yet, we have our own. The most obvious one in churches of Christ is the invitation at the end of a sermon, and the invitation song is meant to conclude with a public response. You will not read about this in the New Testament; it grew out of the altar call in early American evangelicalism. If we used our logic against ourselves, we’d be violating the interpretation we have bound on another. Sunday school and Wednesday night services are also traditions. God hasn’t decided that we meet twice on a Sunday or once midweek. Sometimes, what we see as a tradition should fall under Christian liberty (cf. Rom. 14). If something doesn’t violate a commandment of God’s or apostolic tradition (“don’t shoot me”), we might find a method of doing something. We notice that the early church sang, but how isn’t specified. They chanted, but we sing in four-part harmony. We’re told to go into the world with the good news, but we aren’t told how to do it. We do this by radio, live stream, airplane, and other methods.  

Another bad kind of tradition is human tradition (Col. 2:8). Paul links this to philosophy, but philosophy itself wasn’t bad. He likely meant it so broadly in his context to include the occult, as we might understand. When he refers to “the basic principles of the world,” he uses a word that seems to be a designation for spiritual beings (cf. Col. 2:10, 20–23). This was, after all, how the term was often used in literature across the board. Simply put, he is thinking of the demonic, which was why I used the term occult. You might also include superstitions in this. For example, believing it to be bad luck to open an umbrella inside or to walk under a ladder is nonsense. Another may be when you spill salt, how you’re supposed to throw a handful of salt over your right shoulder. I don’t know where these originated, but we don’t hang our hopes on luck; we live by faith. 

Paul also uses tradition to convey the practices pleasing to God (2 Thess. 2:15; 3:6). For Paul, it can be given first-hand or in writing. With many centuries between us and the apostles, we rely on what’s written. Some groups contend that what they practice was preserved throughout the centuries as tradition. I believe that’s a way of stopping further inquiry into their practices. Is it to say they’re wrong? Not necessarily, but it’s like a get-out-of-jail-free card to reply with, “It’s holy tradition.” It could be, or that could be a way not to justify what one does. Plus, with the great schism, whose traditions are we to rely on? There are separate traditions in Orthodoxy and Catholicism, though there are similarities. This is where Christian liberty may be most helpful and why I tend to side with the forebearers of the Restoration Movement. As best as we can, let’s live by Scripture. Even with that, someone can become a legalist, so room for grace and liberty is necessary. At the end of it, we’re all trying to do our best to live for God. No one gets it perfectly.   

Azazel (Scapegoat): Goat, Demon, Place, or National Deity?

The High Priest was to perform certain rituals for himself and Israel on the Day of Atonement, but one fascinating is the scapegoat, one of two goats chosen by lots upon whom the High Priest would recite all the sins of Israel and then send it out into the wilderness. This is how many English translations render this term, but in Hebrew, it’s “Azazel” (Lev. 16:8–10), a name likely meaning something along the lines of “El is strong” or “the rage of El.” “El” is a name often used for God in the Hebrew Scriptures, but El was also the chief Canaanite deity. That’s not to say that the two are the same. They share a name; that’s all. The Canaanite El was associated with the epithet “bull” (cf. Num. 23:22; 24:8). It makes you wonder about that golden calf Aaron made to appease Israel (cf. Gen. 35:2; Josh 24:14–15; 2 Kings 23:24)! In Canaanite mythology, Baal is El’s son, for a point of reference. 

There’s uncertainty about whether Azazel is a goat, demon, place, or deity (of a neighboring mythology). One interpretation is that the scapegoat is sent into the wilderness because the desert is associated with the chaos before God gave order to creation. One goat is given to God, and the other to Azazel. In Hebrew, the phrasing is that the goat is given to Azazel. Aaron does this for himself and Israel (Lev. 16:21). This goat to be sent to Azazel is, first, presented to God, showing the latter’s superior status (Lev. 16:7). God receives the other goat as a sacrifice, whereas no sacrifice is given to Azazel. God resides in his tabernacle/temple, and Azazel is in the desert. The two aren’t on equal footing. 

I found it interesting how the Septuagint translates this corresponding term: “the one who eliminates” or “the one who wards off evil.” In Greek literature, the phrase hoi ampopompaioi typically denoted divine agents. In 1 Enoch, he is said to teach humans to make instruments of war, jewelry, and cosmetics, leading to war and fornication (8:1–2). The angel Raphael is said to have banished him to the desert, where the scapegoat goes (1 Enoch 10:4–8). In some versions of Enoch, the sins carried by the scapegoat are written upon him. Philo refers to Azazel as “the banished creature” and “the scapegoat” (Her. 179). 

Later, in the second century AD, in Midrash Avkir, Azazel is identified as Azael. Other texts say more about him. For example, the Apocolypse of Abraham says he is the devil (31:5). The Talmud refers to it as “Azazel—the land” (b. Yoma 67b). In the same passage, the goat is supposed to be pushed off a jagged, rocky cliff; Azazel is said by another rabbi to be connected to two wicked angels, Uzza and Azael, who were believed to have been a part of the story in Genesis 6:1–4. 

To complicate matters further, some early Christian amulets and jewelry depicted him as a figure who could protect them by having the power to avert evil. Who or what Azazel is remains unsolved. It is a versatile creature that takes on many forms at different times. This is one instance where a “clear reading of Scripture” isn’t always all that clear. We have relied on translators to do the best for us, but since the Septuagint, “scapegoat” seems to have been the preferred translation, thus overlooking a critical aspect in the context. 

Does Luke’s Research Nullify Inspiration?

The past few years have been ripe with disinformation, misinformation, alternative facts, etc. Facebook has become a catalyst for spreading such, with algorithms set to pop up what suits one’s fancy. We have no certainty about what is trustworthy anymore, but truth-seekers can sift through the material—identifying both the true and false. Using our preferred sources is easy because they validate our preconceptions, but we should use caution because they may blind us in the process.

When Luke wrote his good news account (see Luke 1:1–4), he wrote against the backdrop of other circulating versions. He carefully investigated the matter, knew eyewitnesses, and drafted an orderly arrangement to straighten the record. Since he indicates research, does that nullify inspiration given by the Holy Spirit? I don’t believe so. Since research was an element of this writing, who is anyone to say that the Holy Spirit didn’t tell Luke to consult with certain people or documents? After all, Luke emphasizes the work of the Holy Spirit (Luke 1:15, 35, 41, 67), and that could have included talking with certain people. Remember, God directed Saul of Tarsus to Ananias, who then told him the gospel when God could have told it to him (see Acts 9:6).

Luke followed things closely and used various sources, one of whom might have been Mary, the mother of Christ. The first two chapters contain information she would have known (Luke 2:19, 51). Peter (cf. Luke 6:14) and Mark might have also been a source for Luke, given the call for Mark—Peter’s companion—in 2 Timothy 4:11 and his presence in Colossians 4:10 and Philemon 24 with Luke.  As Paul’s travel companion, Luke would have undoubtedly received information from him. Paul quoted from Luke 10:7 in 1 Timothy 5:17–18 and referred to his gospel (Rom. 2:16; 16:25; 2 Tim. 2:8).

Luke noted that “many” had tried to write narratives (Luke 1:1), so he wrote in response to inadequate or false gospels. His own, however, was from “eyewitnesses and ministers of the word” (Luke 1:2)—neither of which he was as far as we know. The other accounts contributed to confusion rather than clarity. Luke wanted to give an orderly arrangement (Luke 1:3). His meaning of “orderly” differs from what we might initially think. He doesn’t give a chronological but a topical account. His arrangement differs from Matthew’s and Mark’s but contains some of the same material, though placed in a different order. 

Living in the Kingdom (Matt. 7:6-29)

People today treat their dogs better than humans. I have three dogs, two of which live outside and one inside. I love them but would never grill a steak or pork chop for them. If anything, they might get the leftovers. Jesus’ phrase “what is holy” could refer to meat because it necessitated a banquet whenever an animal was sacrificed. Eating what had been sacrificed to God was considered holy, and to give it to dogs was unthinkable. Also, no one would throw pearls to pigs because they don’t understand their value. Therefore, the gospel, represented as what’s holy and pearls, shouldn’t be wasted on those who scorn them. We want to share the good news, but some people don’t like it. Don’t waste it on them. If anything, pray for them to be receptive, but you can lead a horse to water. 

There are several ways to interpret the ask, seek, and knock passage. The first is relative to prayer, and the second to the kingdom of God as the church. When you look at Acts, the latter is understood in the context by some and see how all resources are pooled together so that no one is lacking. This interpretation focuses on verses 9–11 regarding basic needs and that God, through his church, provides for the saints. It’s not a flawed interpretation, but prayer is truer to the context given Matthew’s usage of “ask” concerning it(cf. Matt. 18:19; 21:22) and Jesus’ focus on prayer in the sermon (Matt. 5:44; 6:5–13). Compared to God, who is the absolute good (Matt. 19:17), parents, regardless of how loving they are of their children, are evil. If evil parents can give good gifts to their children, how much more will God? This doesn’t mean that every prayer we pray is answered “yes.” God gives us good things, and not everything we ask for is 1) a necessity (“bread” and “fish”) and 2) good. 

The golden rule was meant to guide the interpretation of the Law (7:12). It parallels similar statements from other civilizations. 

Watch yourself, my son, in everything you do, and discipline yourself in all your conduct. And what you hate, do not do to anyone. (Tobit 4:14–15; second century BC)

Let us show our generosity in the same manner that we would wish to have it bestowed on us. (Seneca, De Beneficiis 2.1.1; contemporary of Jesus)

What is hateful to you, do not do to your neighbor. That is the whole Torah. The rest is commentary. Go and learn! (Hillel, b. Sabb. 31a; 70 BC–AD 10)

Do not do unto others what you would not want others to do unto you. (Confucius, Analects 15.23)

Anything that might seem like we should treat another in a certain way must be turned on ourselves and asked whether or not we’d wish to be treated that way. 

Verses 13–14’s two ways have parallels in other passages (Deut. 30:15; Ps. 1:1–2). The false prophets of whom Jesus speaks (7:15–20) must be set in the backdrop of how he said we should regard our enemies. In the decades following Jesus, prophets arose, leading revolts against the occupying Romans. Theudas (AD 44–46) led a band of people massacred by a squadron, the head of Theudas being paraded through Jerusalem. During Felix’s reign (AD 52–60), an Egyptian led several thousand people to the Mount of Olives, where he promised to command the city walls to fall and subsequently be installed as Israel’s king. Hundreds were killed, and hundreds were imprisoned, the Egyptian man having escaped. They could tell who the false prophets were by their fruits—if contrary to what Jesus taught them (non-violence), they were known to be untrue. 

Once more, he emphasizes proper action over confession (7:21–23). The false prophets would be known by their fruits. His disciples were to let their light shine through their good works (5:16). He wanted their righteousness to exceed that of the Pharisees and scribes (5:20). At every turn, Jesus wanted his disciples to show, by their actions, fidelity to God. They’re not to make a show of it for others but to quietly serve God, trusting in him. Their house will stand if they heed his instructions (7:24–27). The response to Jesus’ teaching as having authority stems from his teaching coming directly from himself. Pharisees and rabbis would have cited the collective wisdom of the rabbis, the Law, or other Jewish writings. Jesus alludes to them but speaks with authority and settles the matter. He taught, unlike any other teacher who lived, not citing different sources. 

Judge Not! (Oh, really?)

Everyone and their mother knows this verse (Matt. 7:1), and they use it—often inappropriately. Yet, there’s more to this passage than telling people not to judge. For example, just a few verses later, Jesus warns against false teachers. To dub a person a false teacher, you have to be willing to judge what they teach and how they live (Matt. 7:15–20). When a teacher grades an assignment, they are making a judgment. To call one thing good and another thing terrible is ultimately making a judgment. How did Jesus mean this? First, the term translated as “judge” denotes a habit of sharp, unjust criticism. The Greek term is krinete, from which our English word, “critic,” comes. We’re not talking about judging in the sense that we may think of it, but criticism. Notice what follows: how we judge is how we will be considered (7:2). This critical person sees only the fault in others but none in themselves (7:3–5; cf. Rom. 14:4, 10, 13).

We’re to judge righteously (John 7:24). Unrighteous judgment is according to appearance. Righteous judgment, however, is with grace, mercy, and God’s will as the standard. There’s always what we see and reality. Sometimes the two are the same, but sometimes they’re not. When we look for the worst, that’s what we’ll find every time. This was what the Pharisees did—look to find fault. They are the ones who are judged harshly and not with righteousness. In matters of righteousness, we’re to judge our brethren and not outsiders (1 Cor. 5:12). Judgment here isn’t a condemnation but discernment. When a Christian doesn’t bear the fruits of the Spirit but works of the flesh, we must address the issue. When you read the thought uninterrupted, it flows into the next chapter, which denounces lawsuits among brethren. This matter is one of discipline (cf. Deut. 17:6–7; Matt. 18:15–20).

A few standards of judgment would be good to avoid. The first would be judging someone by the worst thing they’ve ever done. This can be difficult because Jeffrey Dahmer did some pretty horrible things. Yet, you may not know that before he died, he became our brother, obeying the gospel while in jail thanks to Oklahoma minister Curt Booth and Wisconsin minister Roy Ratcliff. F.B. Meyer once said that when we see a brother or sister in sin, there are two things we do not know. First, we do not know how hard he or she tried not to sin, and second, we do not see the power of the forces that assailed him or her. We also do not understand what we would have done in the same circumstances. It can be challenging for some to fathom that a person like Dahmer could now be in heaven after all he did, but we cannot negate how powerful Jesus’ death was in comparison. If it isn’t powerful enough to wash away those sins, then it isn’t capable of anything. 

Another standard of judgment is imposing modern morals on the past. Slavery is agreed to be abhorrent. Yet, it has existed since the dawn of time, or pretty close to it. It still exists, believe it or not. The latest Global Estimates of Modern Slavery from Walk Free estimates that 49.6 million people live in slavery, either through forced labor or marriage. A quarter of those are children. North Korea has the highest percentage of slaves, and Africa and the Middle East have countries with considerably high numbers of slaves. Slavery didn’t begin with the trans-Atlantic slave trade. Yet, you don’t see activists caring much for these slaves, only those of the past. However, had we lived in that time and had the means, would we have had slaves? Would we have been slaves? We must remember that an evolving interpretation of Scripture led to its abolition in England and the United States. 

Our time would be better spent attending to our own blind spots (Matt. 7:3–5). How can we be a light to the world when we occupy our time with the judgment of others as if it were a spiritual gift given by the Holy Spirit? For some of us, being judgmental comes easy. It’s an all-too-tempted way to operate. Yet, how we judge is the same way we shall be judged. If we are harsh, we will receive harsh judgment. If we are gracious, we can receive God’s grace in judgment.  

Treasures in Heaven (Matt. 6:19-34)

Who hasn’t worried? We all do it, and sometimes with good reason. Worrying is not a sin, as some might persuade us to believe. There is, however, a component of faith that is absent when we worry because we have forgotten the sovereignty of God over all things. Yet, before worrying, fasting and prayer are things you’ll note in the sermon that were observed in the church a lot (cf. Acts 10:30; 13:1–3; 14:23). Psychologists teach such methods as meditation, mindfulness, breathing, and so on. These are grounding techniques when, in a moment of anxiety, someone centers themselves to face whatever worries them. Sometimes, we live in a lane so long that it becomes home, but neuroplasticity suggests that our brain is equipped to rewire itself. Praying the Our Father reminds us that God is outside time and space and greater than us and our worries. Plus, when we pray for his will to be done on earth as in heaven, we must submit to his will, whatever it may be. When we place our worries in the context of prayer and fasting, we give ourselves to God and entrust him in the process. 

We have contrasted riches and necessities. The two are different. If we are fortunate enough to amass wealth, Jesus says, it should be in heaven, where it cannot be destroyed or diluted in value. We are acquisitive by nature. It’s easier to accumulate things than to give them. In high school, I returned home one day—the first to leave and return home—to find the door ajar. I knew I had closed it all the way, but I went in to discover the house ransacked and robbed. My great-grandfather’s 12 gauge shotgun was gone. He used it when he was young, so I prized that possession. That robbery taught me then and there that placing meaning in things is meaningless. The relationship we had and the love we shared were more valuable than the shotgun. It was sentimental, and that’s why the loss hurt so much. However, that taught me not to lay up treasures on earth because thieves break in and steal. 

No matter how much you have, it’s never enough (Eccl. 5:10; cf. 1 Tim. 6:10). No one can serve two masters. No one can serve God and mammon. That word is Aramaic; some translations render it “riches” or “wealth.” The root of the term means “trust” or “reliance.” We cannot trust or rely on stuff against God. This point is no better illustrated than in the parable of the rich fool (Luke 12:13–21). This man did what Jesus warns against here—he “stored” up treasures for himself. The very word Matthew uses as “lay up” (Matt. 6:19–20) appears at the end of this parable (Luke 12:21). Cyril of Alexander (ca. AD 412–444) described being rich toward God as having one’s “hand … open to the needs of the poor, comforting the sorrows of those in poverty according to his means and the utmost of his power. He gathers in storehouses that are above and lays up treasures in heaven” (Luke, Homily 89). Another example of trusting in riches is illustrated differently than the rich young ruler (Matt. 19:16–22).

The relationship of the eye to the soul has been a staple of philosophy for centuries. When I used to live in Central Kentucky, there was an Amish man people went to because he was an iridologist. He could look into your eyes and tell you if you’ve had your gallbladder removed or diagnose other issues you may have. In antiquity, people believed your eyes projected light, hence the eye/lamp connection. We now know that the eye’s receptors convert light into electrical signals that our brains interpret. We’ve heard phrases such as the all-seeing eye, the evil eye, and the stink eye. What is it that we will set our gaze upon? That determines whether it is good or bad. 

Saying not to worry is easier sometimes than actually doing it. If we fast, we won’t worry about food and drink. If we pray, we give our worries to God (cf. Phil. 4:6–7). Paul knew what it was to suffer from want, so he replaced his worry with contentedness (Phil. 4:12–13). In the community of Jesus, we share our bread and drink. We look out for one another to ensure everyone isn’t lacking (Matt. 25:34–45). Plus, when we look at nature, we see that everything is provided for nature, so why wouldn’t we have faith that God will provide for us? Unlike nature, we sow and reap but can learn a lot from it. So, strive for God’s kingdom, and all else falls into place. Years ago, a college student was preparing for a nursing degree, and she was a cheerleader and belonged to a sorority. She hadn’t been at church, so my wife and I met her for lunch, and I told her that if she prioritized God, her worries and pressures would be resolved. It’s human nature to sacrifice Bible study, worship, and fellowship to ensure things are handled. However, when we prioritize them, we are saying to God that he is more important, and we trust that all we have to face is something he will tend to. 

The Lord’s Prayer (Matt. 6:9-13)

We must remember that when Jesus spoke about prayer, he urged that it be private and not as a show-off. He also adds that we shouldn’t presume that wordy prayers avail more than simple, concise prayers. In this context, Jesus gives his disciples a prayer to pray, something rabbis often gave their followers. Unlike our prayers today, there were and are liturgical prayers. These are prayers worded verbatim and not extemporaneously as we tend to do today. In synagogues, the shema is prayed on the Sabbath. This is the first word of Deuteronomy 6:4, “Here!” Jewish prayers are often named after the first word or words. The mi shebarach (“May the one who blessed”) has become increasingly common in synagogue meetings. The Lord’s Prayer would have been prayed verbatim. While modern Christians say it’s a model prayer to base our prayers on, the disciples would have repeated precisely these words. 

Prayer is not a way to get God’s attention—we already have it. It is a way to express our feelings honestly and without reservation. Whether worry, anger, thanksgiving, or celebration, the Psalms reflect the various emotions expressed, from despair to joy, from repentance to gladness. Sometimes, the psalmist praises God above all that is, and at other times, lays blame at God’s feet. Prayer can strengthen our relationship with God just as any form of communication enhances a relationship. Muslims pray five times a day; Jews pray three times a day. Christians, however, have little to no discipline about prayer unless you’re in a specific branch that emphasizes it. 

There are three versions of this prayer—Matthew’s, Luke’s (11:2–4), and one in Didache (ca. 50–60). In Luke’s version, the disciples ask Jesus to teach them how to pray. Didache is very similar to Matthew, with a few differences. 

Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy Name, thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, as in Heaven so also upon earth; give us today our daily bread, and forgive us our debt as we forgive our debtors, and lead us not into trial, but deliver us from the Evil One, for thine is the power and the glory for ever. Pray thus three times a day. (8:2–3)

The doxology at the end of Matthew’s version is a later addition. Interestingly, the earliest Greek and Latin manuscripts do not contain it. Even early church fathers knew of the shorter version. It makes you wonder why the doxology was added and kept in Matthew’s final version. Even a version of Luke contained, “May Your Holy Spirit come upon us and purify us,” instead of “Your kingdom come.” This is attested to by Marcion’s version of Luke (ca. 85–160); Gregory of Nyssa also wrote about this version. Several amulets have been found in Egypt on which the Lord’s Prayer was inscribed, so we see this prayer as transmitted through time. 

Many Jewish prayers address God with formality, “Blessed be the Name of the LORD our G-d,” though not exclusively (cf. Mal. 2:10). Here, however, Jesus makes it intimate, addressing God as our father, denoting paternal love, protection, and provision. God alone is one’s father (Matt. 23:9). Saying that God was in heaven, the text says “heavens,” speaks about his ability to transcend the physical world. Jews at the time believed in three heavens (2 Cor. 12:2). The third commandment of the Torah was to not use the Lord’s name in vain (Exod. 20:7), and the wording in Exodus means to take a vow or oath in God’s name, as well as in casual conversation. 

When Jesus prays for God’s kingdom to come, many say we should omit this portion of the prayer because the kingdom is already spoken of as something in the present tense (cf. Luke 9:27; 1 Cor. 15:23–25; Col. 1:13; Rev. 1:9). In this sense, I would agree; however, the kingdom has come in that God’s rule is on earth through the church. Yet, the fullness of his kingdom is to be realized after the judgment. Christians live in God’s kingdom, but there are still things on the earth, such as death, that occur that aren’t a part of God’s kingdom. 

When we follow God’s will as we know it on earth, we may also see it done in heaven. We can learn this from the Scriptures that have been preserved for us. Jesus used those Scriptures to combat the devil in the wilderness. He also said he didn’t come to destroy the law and prophets but to fulfill them. The wording about daily bread isn’t as truthful to the text as many English translations give it. In Greek, “daily” isn’t expressed, but giving us tomorrow’s bread today is more accurate to the language. On the one hand, it envisions the messianic banquet (cf. Matt. 8:11). On the other, it reminds us that Jesus is our bread of life (John 6:35, 48, 51). 

Sin is often regarded as a debt (cf. Matt 18:21–35; Luke 7:40–43). We accrue debts through our sins. These debts are too outstanding for our repayment, but the merciful God will forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. If we practice canceling debts rather than calling in repayment, we will have our debts canceled (Matt. 6:14–15). When we think about temptation, we think of something that entices us to sin. The term translated as “temptation” refers to outward tests of all kinds. You could render the term “trials” or “ordeal.” These can lead to temptations, but they are not in and of themselves (cf. Prov. 30:7–9). Jesus’ hunger in the wilderness could have turned to sin had he succumbed to Satan’s temptation to turn stones into bread. Judas was not delivered from the evil one, mainly because he did not seek God’s will. Because of this, he opened himself to Satan (cf. Luke 22:3; John 13:27). Just as Satan tempted Jesus through his trial, he can use our ordeals to tempt us, giving that we become weak or despairing in them. 

Praised by God, Not By Men (Matt. 6:1-18)

Jesus wants his disciples not to be show-offs. A balance must be struck between personal piety, the salt of the earth, and letting our light shine (Matt. 5:13–16). When we compare these, it all boils down to intention. To be the salt of the earth isn’t to show off but to be a blessing. Just as salt has taste and color affects whatever it touches when used. It can preserve, melt, season, and other such things. By being what we are, we are meant to be a blessing by being that salt. Just as there are various uses for salt, so there is for light. Many of us remember that plants require light to grow. Solar panels harness direct sunlight’s power, which can be stored in batteries. My house has several solar paneled motion lights and string lights. The string lights illuminate every night around our deck, and whenever the dog or someone walks by the motionlights, it illuminates. It’s very dark in the country, and these lights are helpful and cheaper than running electricity everywhere. You may have heard that darkness is the absence of light. When God ordered the cosmos, he commanded light as the first act of creation (Gen. 1:3).  When the final, heavenly Jerusalem appears, there will be no more night (Rev. 22:5). We’re told to let our light shine so that our good works are seen, and we glorify our heavenly Father. Where’s the balance?

Jesus mentions almsgiving, prayer, and fasting as three areas of piety. He stresses that we do things to be rewarded by our Father and not people (Matt. 6:3–4, 6, 18). So, here are the two areas of tension that will be resolved by noting the intention. Here’s an example that helps me: let’s say you’re out to eat at a restaurant. When your food comes, you and your family bow your heads and offer a prayer. You’re not doing it for attention but to give thanks. That’s letting your light shine because, let’s say, an elderly couple walks by and commends you for that, saying it’s nice to see a young family give thanks without shame. Your light has shone, but you have done it not for praise but out of personal devotion and commitment to God. On the other hand, if you prayed so loud that everyone around you was forced to notice, that’s not good, and the showing off is of concern here. In closing chapter five, Jesus said to be perfect as our Father is, so the instructions that came before and follow that statement show us how to do that. Our word, translated as “perfect,” doesn’t mean “without fault.” I advocate that it should be translated as “complete.” At least, that’s how we’d understand it today.  

The conclusion of intention is shown in each example. In almsgiving, don’t blow the trumpet (Matt. 6:2). In prayer, it’s to be seen by men (Matt. 6:5). With fasting, it’s appearing to men (Matt. 6:16). This is the motivation of the hypocrites. They want to be seen. However, as this chapter closes, we seek God’s kingdom and righteousness first (Matt. 6:33). The law made caring for the poor a central command (Deut. 15:11). What’s interesting is that the term translated “almsgiving” is tzadik. The word for righteousness is tzedakah, which shows the relationship between the two. Doing it for public recognition should not be our motivation. What we give isn’t so much a matter as well, but how we give (cf. Mark 12:41–44). 

Similar sentiments could be said of prayer. This doesn’t rebuke corporate prayer because that’s commanded (1 Tim. 2:1–3) and observed in the early church (Acts 12:5, 12). The emphasis should be on God and not the one praying. Sometimes, people use prayers as sermon times. They give a little sermon for those listening more so than addressing God himself. So, Jesus identifies the praying person who wants to be seen; then, he points out the one who uses vain repetitions. 

The Gemara asks: And one who prolongs his prayer; is that a virtue? … Anyone who prolongs his prayer and expects it to be answered, will ultimately come to heartache … How does he prolong his prayer? By increasing his supplication. (B. Ber. 55a)

A professor once corrected me in a paper by telling me to stop bloviating. I looked the word up because I didn’t know what it meant. Essentially, use fewer words rather than extra unnecessary words. Don’t say in fifty words what can be said in ten. This is why the disciples ask Jesus to teach them how to pray. Rabbis often gave their disciples prayers to pray verbatim. In the early church, the Lord’s Prayer was to be prayed thrice daily (Didache 8.2–3). The Psalms are also a good blueprint. Fasting is also to be private. This religious devotion was associated with mourning, repentance, discipline, or waiting upon the Lord.