Church Write-Up: Was Melchizedek Jesus?

For church last Sunday, I watched John MacArthur’s service on the Internet, then I watched the service of the church that I normally attend.  It was supposed to rain last Sunday morning, so I stayed home.  But it turned out that it didn’t rain, and I could have walked to church after all!  Oh well.  Maybe I’ll go to church next Sunday!

In this Church Write-Up, I want to focus on something that the speaker at MacArthur’s church said.  The speaker last Sunday was not MacArthur himself, but rather the person who is usually the master-of-ceremonies at the morning service at MacArthur’s church: the person who delivers the welcome, tells visitors where they can go after the service for snacks and conversation, and introduces the tithe and offering part of the service.  Since he was giving the sermon, someone else was the master-of-ceremonies.

The speaker briefly commented on Hebrews 7:3.  In this post, I will quote that passage, discuss some of my past interaction with the passage, say how the speaker interpreted it, then comment on whether the speaker’s interpretation makes sense to me.

Hebrews 7:3 states regarding the priest Melchizedek of Genesis 14 that he was “Without father, without mother, without descent, having neither beginning of days, nor end of life; but made like unto the Son of God; abideth a priest continually” (KJV).

Melchizedek was without father or mother, lacked beginning of days and end of life, and was a priest continually.

When I was growing up in Armstrongism, the interpretation that I heard was that Melchizedek was God the Son, the being who would become Jesus Christ.  After all, Hebrews 7:3 presents Melchizedek as eternal, it seems, and Jesus Christ was eternal.  Who else could Melchizedek be?

Someone I know, who also has an Armstrongite background, was questioning this interpretation.  His conclusion was that Melchizedek was Shem, the son of Noah.  That interpretation was not new to me, for I went through Martin Luther’s lectures on Genesis back when I was in college, and Luther, too, believed that Melchizedek was Shem.  But how would that interpretation accord with Hebrews 7:3?  Shem was not eternal, right?  Shem had a father, Noah.  How could Shem be Melchizedek?

A relative of mine, appealing to E.W. Bullinger’s Companion Bible (which is popular in Armstrongite circles), said that Bullinger’s note said that Hebrews 7:3 is not suggesting that Melchizedek was immortal or eternal, but rather that Melchizedek lacked a recorded genealogy.  Melchizedek’s parents are not explicitly named in the Bible, in short.  Okay, but that raises questions in my mind: Why does the author of Hebrews make the point that Melchizedek lacked a recorded genealogy?  How does that fit into Hebrews’ larger argument?

To my shame, I admit that I never studied these questions, so they just lingered in the back of my mind.  That sermon that I watched last Sunday, however, engaged this topic.

The speaker was saying that the point of Hebrews 7:3 is that Melchizedek lacked a priestly genealogy.  Ordinarily in ancient Israel, priests were priests because they were part of a priestly line.  The priests in ancient Israel, according to P in the Torah, were descended from Aaron the Levite; in Deuteronomy, they were descended from Levi.  Melchizedek, by contrast, lacked this priestly pedigree, yet he was still a priest of God.

That made sense to me when I first heard it, for it seemed to be consistent with themes in the Epistle to the Hebrews.  The author of Hebrews argues in Hebrews 7 that Jesus was a high priest, even though Jesus descended from the non-priestly tribe of Judah rather than the priestly tribe of Levi.  How could Jesus be a high priest, when Jesus did not descend from Aaron or Levi?  According to the Epistle to the Hebrews, Jesus was a priest after the order of Melchizedek, who himself lacked an Aaronide or Levitical pedigree.

This speaker’s interpretation of Hebrews 7:3 is commonplace, as is the view that Hebrews 7:3 presents Melchizedek as an eternal being, maybe even Jesus Christ himself.  As I look at Hebrews 7:3 again, the speaker’s interpretation makes less sense to me.  The passage seems to suggest that Melchizedek lacked a beginning and an end, which arguably implies eternity.  Moreover, it says that Melchizedek continues to be a priest.  An eternal being would continue to be a priest, whereas that would not be the case for a temporal being who merely lacks a recorded genealogy.

Looking at Bullinger’s actual note on Hebrews 7:3 in the Companion Bible, I see that Bullinger goes with the “pedigree” interpretation, yet he also embraces a typological interpretation that seeks to account for Melchizedek lacking a beginning or an end and continuing to abide as a priest:

“Melchisedec is presented to us without reference to any human qualifications for office.  His genealogy is not recorded, so essential in the case of Aaron’s sons (Neh 7 64).  Ordinary priests began their service at thirty, and ended at fifty, years of age (Num 4 47).  The high priest succeeded on the day of his predecessor’s decease.  Melchisedec has no such dates recorded; he had neither beginning of days nor end of life.  We only know that he lived, and thus he is a fitting type of One Who lives continually.”

I have mentioned the pedigree interpretation of Hebrews 7:3 and the “Melchizedek is Jesus” interpretation, but Bullinger offers a third interpretation, which is also prominent: that Melchizedek was not actually Jesus but was a type of Jesus, a foreshadowing of Jesus.  According to this interpretation, Melchizedek had parents and lived a human life-span, but they are not recorded, and the fact that they are not recorded allows Melchizedek to foreshadow Jesus, a priest who actually was eternal.

There were different views of Melchizedek in Second Temple Judaism, which could have been part of the historical repertoire of the Epistle to the Hebrews.  Josephus in Antiquities 1.180 depicted Melchizedek as a human king.  11QMelch in the Dead Sea Scrolls, by contrast, appears to have a cosmic, heavenly conceptualization of Melchizedek, perhaps presenting him as an angel.  If one were to look at Hebrews’ historical context to determine whether Hebrews sees Melchizedek as merely a human or as a heavenly being, one would see that both options may have been available to the author, as part of the author’s cultural repertoire.

I have questions and doubts about all three interpretations of Hebrews 7:3.  In response to the view that Melchizedek was merely a human priest in Hebrews 7:3, I, again, note features of the verse that appear to suggest that Melchizedek was more than that: that Melchizedek lacked beginning and ending and continues to be a priest.

In response to the view that Melchizedek was the pre-incarnate Jesus Christ, I have questions.  Why does Hebrews 7:3 state that Melchizedek was like the Son of God, rather than saying that Melchizedek was the Son of God?  Moreover, I believe that, in Genesis 14 itself, Melchizedek was merely a man.  Melchizedek was the king of Salem, which sounds like Jerusalem.  A later king of Jerusalem was Adonizedek (Joshua 10:1-3).  Kings of Jerusalem, prior to King David, appear to have had the suffix “zedek” in their names.  That seems to undermine the notion that Melchizedek in Genesis 14 was some anomalous figure, or a celestial being who temporarily came to earth to visit Abraham.  Rather, he was a king of Jerusalem with “zedek” at the end of his name, like later kings of Jerusalem with “zedek” in their names.  This does not necessarily have any bearing on whether the author of Hebrews saw Melchizedek as a human king or as Christ, for the author of Hebrews may have had a different ideology from that of the author of Genesis; interpretations of biblical texts are not always consistent with the biblical texts’ original meaning.  For those who see the Bible as a consistent, divinely-inspired document, however, Genesis 14 would probably be relevant to how one should interpret Hebrews 7:3.

In response to the view that Melchizedek in Hebrews 7:3 was seen as a type of Christ, but not as Christ himself, I note that Hebrews 7:3 states that Melchizedek abides as a priest.  If Melchizedek abides as a priest but is not Christ, are there two eternal priesthoods: that of Melchizedek and that of Christ?  Perhaps I am taking Hebrews 7:3 too literally, though.

Of the three views, the third one makes the most sense to me, yet it is not entirely satisfactory.

Book Write-Up: Hebrews, by Dr. Kathy Stewart

Dr. Kathy Stewart.  Hebrews: It’s Not How You Start—It’s How You Finish: A Study Guide to the Most Encouraging Book in the New Testament.  Bloomington: WestBow Press, 2013.  See here to buy the book.

As the title indicates, this book is a study guide to the New Testament Epistle to the Hebrews.

The book encourages active learning.  Readers are to look up Scriptures, identify things in them, and write things down.  In going through this book, one can go deeply into the Bible, savoring not only the Epistle to the Hebrews, but also the Old Testament passages to which Hebrews refers.

Kathy Stewart’s discussions were pretty good, in areas.  Her discussion of the different views about the authorship of Hebrews, and the reasons for those views, was especially judicious.  Stewart also argued that Melchizedek in the Epistle to the Hebrews was not Jesus Christ but foreshadowed Jesus Christ, as a type, and that would explain Hebrews 7:3’s point that Melchizedek lacks a father or mother, beginning of days and end of life.  For Stewart, the historical Melchizedek had those things, but they were not mentioned in Genesis because Melchizedek was to be a type of Christ, who actually was eternal.  Stewart’s discussion of how David may have seen Psalm 110, which transcended the Israelite religious institutions of his time, was also effective.

One of Stewart’s arguments was intriguing, but it does not quite work.  Stewart argues that Hebrews 6:1-2 is encouraging the Jewish Christians to move past Jewish doctrines, not rudimentary Christian doctrines.  These doctrines include repentance from dead works (which Stewart interprets as animal sacrifices, probably the hypocritical, insincere sacrificing of animals that the Old Testament condemns), faith in God, baptisms, the laying on of hands, and teaching about the last judgment and the resurrection from the dead.  According to Stewart, the baptisms in Hebrews 6:2 refer not to Christian baptism but rather to the ritual washings in the Torah, and the laying on of hands is likewise a practice in the Torah.  For Stewart, the author of Hebrews wants Jewish Christians not to revert back to Judaism but to build on their Jewish foundation by believing in Jesus.  The problem with Stewart’s interpretation of Hebrews 6:1-2 is that Hebrews 6:1 refers to “leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ” and going on “unto perfection” (KJV).  That seems to indicate that Hebrews 6:1-2 concerns moving on from basic Christian doctrine.

Stewart then goes on to explain the troubling passage of Hebrews 6:4-5, which talks about how it is impossible to renew to repentance those who fall away, after they have been enlightened, have tasted of the heavenly gift, were made partakers of the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the word of God and the powers of the world to come.  At first, Stewart argues that this is about the Jewish people, not Christians who leave the faith.  But then she argues that it is about Christians who leave the faith.  Her discussion started out intriguing, as she tried to build on her point about Hebrews 6:1-2 being about Jewish doctrines, but then it became contradictory.

Stewart’s discussion on Hebrews 9:4-5 made an astute and intriguing observation but failed to follow through.  Stewart notes that the passage mentions the golden parts of the Tabernacle, which were in the Holy Place and the Most Holy Place, but not the bronze parts that were outside of the Tabernacle.  Her point may have been that Jesus replaced the bronze parts, which related to atonement, by being the atonement himself.  But then she seemed to be arguing that Jesus replaced golden parts of the Tabernacle, too, making me wonder why exactly Hebrews 9:4-5 mentions the golden parts, but not the bronze parts.

Stewart’s discussion of the rest in Hebrews 4 was rather unclear.  She says that God has rested from the works of creation and salvation since the time of Adam and Eve, and that is God’s rest.  Yet, she says that believers enter into God’s rest, which is eternal blessedness.  What does eternal blessedness have to do with God resting from the works of creation and salvation?

At times, Stewart would ask the reader questions, when she would have done well to have explained her point.  Her discussion of the covenant with Abraham and the Mosaic covenant was especially confusing.  She said that the covenant with Abraham in Genesis 15 was unconditional while the Sinaitic one was conditional.  Then, she seemed to distinguish a promise from a covenant, as if a covenant was conditional.  But she had already called the unconditional covenant with Abraham in Genesis 15 a covenant!

Stewart speculates that the recipients of the Epistle to the Hebrews were Ebionites, who were Jewish Christians.  Stewart could have explained this a little better, perhaps making clearer that she thinks that the Epistle is refuting certain Ebionite beliefs.  Many Ebionites, for instance, believed that Jesus was a man and not God, whereas the Epistle to the Hebrews presents Jesus as a pre-existent being who assisted God in the work of creation.

Stewart’s book lifts up Christ, which does provide practical edification.  At the same time, it could have included more points about practical application.

Overall, this book has positives and negatives.  Readers may be edified by this book, but it is scattered and confusing, in areas.  The book is upbeat in places, which shows Stewart’s enthusiasm as a teacher; yet, that upbeat tone sometimes degenerated into silliness.

I received a complimentary copy of this book through BookLook Bloggers.  My review is honest.

A Comparison of Philo's Special Laws I with the Epistle to the Hebrews

I recently finished Philo's Special Laws I for my daily quiet time.  Yesterday, I moved on to Special Laws II.  Philo was a first century C.E. Jewish thinker in Alexandria, Egypt.  He interpreted the Torah in light of Greek philosophy.

Special Laws I largely focuses on the sacrifices within the Torah.  In going through Special Laws I, I thought about the New Testament Epistle to the Hebrews.  In this post, I would like to draw some informal comparisons between the two.

A.  For Philo, the animal sacrifices are largely symbolic of the way that people should be, spiritually-speaking.  The sacrifice is a symbol for the person offering it.  The sacrifice is to be perfect, and that symbolizes how the person offering it is to be perfect: free from the slavery of human passions and appetites and clearly and rationally seeing God in God's beauty.  The offering of the sacrifice represents the worshiper offering himself to God.  Philo even calls a person's righteousness a mediator between that person and God.  Philo also says more than once that people need to approach God in a state of virtue, free from sinful attitudes (i.e., covetousness). 
 
In the Epistle to the Hebrews, by contrast, the focus is more on how the sacrifices prefigure Christ's cleansing of people.  Christ is the fulfillment of Old Testament sacrifices.  Christ also intercedes for believers as a high priest, one who knows their weaknesses because he himself was a human and was tempted as they are.

At the same time, one cannot take this observation in the direction of saying that Philo supports people saving themselves by their good works, whereas Hebrews is about God in Christ saving people by grace.  Philo acknowledges that God transforms people, which is an act of divine grace.  Philo realizes that even perfect people are not sinless, for nobody is perfect.  Philo states that there are sacrifices that bring about forgiveness of sin.  Philo knows that the high priest is an intercessor for worshipers, and he believes that the high priest is an intercessor, in part, on account of his virtuous life.

Themes like divine grace and forgiveness are not absent from Special Laws I.  It's just that Philo's focus is on how the sacrifices symbolize how human beings should be, spiritually-speaking.  Hebrews, by contrast, like much of Christianity, tends to focus on how humans are sinful and need a perfect sacrifice to bring them acceptance from God.  The sacrifice is not the human being, so much, as it is something perfect that brings salvation to the sinful human being.

And yet, the Epistle to the Hebrews does not limit its understanding of sacrifices to atonement.  Hebrews 13:16 states that doing good and sharing with others are sacrifices to God.  (I should also note that Romans 12:1 exhorts believers to offer themselves as a living sacrifice.  This can remind one of Philo's belief that many of the sacrifices represent people offering themselves to God.)  Hebrews also has ethical exhortations about doing good and avoiding evil, so Hebrews does believe in trying to be virtuous, as Philo does.

B.  The Epistle to the Hebrews has scary passages about apostasy.  According to Hebrews, one can get to the point where one cannot sincerely repent, even if one wants to do so.  One can sin willfully, which is different from sinning out of weakness.  In Hebrews, willful sin after a person has learned the truth results in there being no more sacrifice for sin for that person.

In Special Laws I, I did not see anything about apostasy.  Philo does talk about God's grace transforming people, and that stood out to me after I read John Piper's comments on Hebrews 12:14-17.  Hebrews 12:14-17 states:

14 Follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord:
15 Looking diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby many be defiled;
16 Lest there be any fornicator, or profane person, as Esau, who for one morsel of meat sold his birthright.
17 For ye know how that afterward, when he would have inherited the blessing, he was rejected: for he found no place of repentance, though he sought it carefully with tears.
(KJV)

John Piper states regarding this passage in his article, "Has My Sexual Sin Made Me Unsavable?":

There came a point where God withdrew from Esau. This meant that Esau was so hardened in his heart that even his weeping in search of repentance was phony at the root. He sought repentance with tears and they were fake. They weren’t penitent tears. He couldn’t cry real tears of repentance anymore. His tears were not true. He wanted the blessing. He wanted the safety. He wanted the gifts. He wanted the inheritance. He wanted heaven. But he did not want God. He loved this world. He traded something infinitely valuable for a single meal.

When I read Piper's comments here, I wondered why God could not transform Esau in Esau's state of spiritual helplessness.  That is why Philo's statement about God transforming people stood out to me.

At the same time, near the end of Special Laws I, Philo takes a rather exclusivist stance.  Philo states that certain people should not approach the virtuous God.  Deuteronomy 23 excludes certain people from entering the congregation of the LORD: people with crushed testicles, or those born from fornication.  Philo in Special Laws I interprets this spiritually: God excludes people who are so enamored with their senses and their faculties that they forget God.  That attitude somewhat overlaps with what John Piper says Hebrews is saying about Esau.  The question would still be, however, if Philo believes that there is hope for such people, or if he thinks that one can arrive at a state of spiritual hopelessness.

C.  The Epistle to the Hebrews interacts with the concept of intentional and unintentional sin in the Torah.  In the Torah, there is atonement for sins committed unintentionally, but death for sins committed presumptuously (Leviticus 5; Numbers 15:27-31).  The Epistle to the Hebrews seems to draw from this concept: for the author of Hebrews, there are sins committed from weakness or out of ignorance, and these can be atoned for.  But sins committed willfully, and after a person has learned the truth and been enlightened, may not be atoned for.  See here for a post that I wrote on this topic.

Philo, too, interacts with the concept of intentional and unintentional sins.  Like rabbinic Judaism (Babylonian Talmud Yoma 86b; see here for other references), Philo in Special Laws I holds that repentance can convert an intentional sin into an unintentional sin, making the sin forgivable. 
 
D.  One can conclude that the Epistle to the Hebrews believes that the physical Temple is null and void after the coming of Christ.  After all, why offer sacrifices at the physical Temple, when its sacrifices could not really take away people's sins in the first place, and the fulfillment of those sacrifices, Christ, has come?  Why go to the Temple when Christ's sacrifice brings about forgiveness of sins?

One may wonder, though, if Philo, too, believes that the physical Temple is superfluous.  Philo, after all, thinks that the Temple rituals symbolize the spiritual life: becoming virtuous and seeing God.  If a person can do these things apart from the physical Temple, is the physical Temple actually needed?

Philo in Special Laws I still seems to believe that the physical Temple plays an important role.  He thinks that the virtuous priests intercede for the people.  He also believes that the Israelites offering sacrifices and giving offerings brings physical and material blessing to the Jewish people: they preserve them and help things to go well in their lives.  For Philo in Special Laws I, the physical rituals are important, even if they symbolize something deeper. 

The Testament of Abraham: Salvation and Answered Prayer

I recently read the Testament of Abraham for my daily quiet time.  The Charlesworth Pseudepigrapha dates it to the first-second centuries C.E.  E.P. Sanders, in his editorial introduction to the work, argues that it has an Egyptian Jewish background.

In this post, I will focus on Recension A, which is longer than Recension B.  I will use Sanders’ translation, looking primarily at chapters 9-14.

The Testament of Abraham is about God sending his angelic Commander-in-Chief, Michael, to Abraham.  The Commander-in-Chief’s mission is to prepare Abraham for his coming death and to escort him to the afterlife, since it is Abraham’s time to go.  But Abraham is resistant to going, and the Commander-in-Chief does not want to inform Abraham that he will soon die, since Abraham is a sweet, hospitable, and righteous man.  Abraham says that he wishes to see all of the world before his death, and the Commander-in-Chief obliges.

Although Abraham in chapter 9 confessed that he was a “sinner and…completely worthless servant,” Abraham does not have a whole lot of tolerance when he beholds other people’s sins.  Abraham sees murderous robbers with sharp swords, and Abraham tells the Lord to send wild beasts to kill them.  Wild beasts then come from the thicket and devour the robbers.  Abraham sees a man and a woman “engaging in sexual immorality,” and Abraham tells the Lord to “command that the earth open and swallow them up.”  The earth then opens and swallows the man and the woman up.  Abraham sees some men attempting to break into a house to rob it, and Abraham tells the Lord to consume them with fire from heaven.  Fire then comes from heaven and consumes the robbers.

Although the Lord is complying with Abraham’s requests, they do not exactly fit God’s will or character.  A voice comes from heaven and speaks to the Commander-in-Chief: “O Michael, Commander-in-chief, command the chariot to stop and turn Abraham away, lest he should see the entire inhabited world.  For if he were to see all those who pass their lives in sin, he would destroy everything that exists.  For behold, Abraham has not sinned and he has no mercy on sinners.  But I made the world, and I do not want to destroy any one of them, but I delay the death of the sinner until he should convert and live.  Now conduct Abraham to the first gate of heaven, so that there he may see the judgments and recompenses and repent over the souls of the sinners which he destroyed.”

Abraham sees the judgment of the dead.  Those who went on the narrow way, a tiny minority, are saved, whereas those who traveled on the broad way are punished.  This sounds like Matthew 7:13-14 and Luke 13:23-24, but there are indications that the Testament of Abraham is not Christian.  Jesus, or the Son of God, is not mentioned in the Testament of Abraham.  Rather, Adam is in heaven cheering humans on, hoping that more people travel on the narrow way.  And Adam’s son Abel, who was killed by his brother Cain, is the one who judges humanity.

Abraham then sees a person whose judgment is on hold because he has an equal number of righteous and wicked deeds.  (Such a concept appears also in rabbinic literature; see here.)  Abraham prays for this person, and the person enters into Paradise.  Abraham, after seeing the bleakness of judgment, perhaps concludes that people need all the help they can get, so he repents of having snuffed out the sinners whom he saw previously.  He asks God for forgiveness of his sin, and God forgives Abraham and restores the sinners who got snuffed out.  God then says that he punished these sinners “for a time,” but that those who die prematurely at God’s hand are not requited.  Sanders’ note interprets this statement in light of “the well-known rabbinic view that those who are punished with suffering or premature death in this world are considered to have been sufficiently punished and to have atoned for their sins, so that they are not punished in the world to come…”

Here are some items:

A.  Could the Testament of Abraham be somehow related to Christianity, in terms of one influencing the other? Maybe the Testament of Abraham got from Christianity the idea of a righteous murder victim sitting in judgment of humanity. Perhaps, conversely, Christianity got from the Testament of Abraham, or a prior tradition that was similar to the Testament of Abraham, the idea that God could exalt a righteous murder victim to heaven, where that victim would judge humanity, and it concluded that this is what happened to Jesus. Could the Epistle to the Hebrews be relevant to my question? Some interpret Hebrews 12:1 to mean that Old Testament saints are a great cloud of witnesses cheering the saints on, and that sounds similar to Adam in the Testament of Abraham cheering humanity on. There is also Hebrews 12:24, which affirms that Jesus’ blood speaks better things than that of Abel. Could Hebrews be responding to a tradition like the Testament of Abraham, in which Abel was judging humanity?

B.  In reading the Testament of Abraham, I thought about some ideas in Scripture.  In the New Testament, we often encounter the idea that God will grant any request that a disciple makes in the name of Jesus, or with faith (Matthew 21:22; Mark 11:24; John 14:13-14; 15:7, 16; 16:23-24; I John 3:22).  This troubles people.  Any request?  Then why didn’t God heal so-and-so, after I prayed for him?  And is not God holding himself hostage to human whims by saying that he will answer any request made in Jesus’ name, or in faith?

Many Christian interpreters would add qualifications to this.  They point to I John 5:14, which affirms that God answers requests that are according to God’s will.  They have also said that God answers the requests that conform to his own character and his commandments: that, when our character is shaped and molded according to God’s righteousness, we ask God for the right things, and God grants our requests.  There may be something to this view.  John 15:7 states: “If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ye shall ask what ye will, and it shall be done unto you” (KJV).  I John 3:22 affirms: “And whatsoever we ask, we receive of him, because we keep his commandments, and do those things that are pleasing in his sight” (KJV).  In these passages, God granting our requests seems to be conditioned on us being yielded to Christ and Christ’s righteous way, in some manner.  I do not think that this entirely solves the problem of unanswered prayer, however, for why wouldn’t God answer the prayer of a righteous person to heal someone else, a prayer that is made out of concern for another person?

I also think of Genesis 27.  In that chapter, Isaac blesses Jacob when Jacob pretends to be Esau, and Isaac cannot reverse that blessing on Jacob after the real Esau shows up.  Blessings were considered to be that powerful, in the ancient world.  Does that mean, though, that God is holding himself hostage to what people say, to people’s blessings and cursings?

In the Testament of Abraham, God grants Abraham’s requests because Abraham is righteous: Abraham is the sort of person who tries to be hospitable to everyone, both those who are important in the eyes of the world, and those who seem unimportant.  But Abraham does not always make righteous requests that accord with God’s will, and God still feels obligated to grant those requests.  At the same time, God is still in control.  God can remove Abraham from seeing more sinners so that Abraham does not request for more sinners to be snuffed out.  God can teach Abraham about God’s nature of compassion and longsuffering, knowing that Abraham is the type of person who will learn the lesson that God wants to teach him.  God holds himself hostage to Abraham’s requests, on some level, but God is still in charge, navigating events in accordance with God’s righteous will.

C.  In the Testament of Abraham, God wants as many people as possible to be saved, but only a tiny minority are saved.  That is a tension that I do not understand, but there it is.  Could the co-existence of these concepts be relevant to interpreting the New Testament within the context of debates about universalism (i.e., God will eventually save everyone)?  There are universalist voices, particularly among certain fourth century church fathers.  Here in the Testament of Abraham, however, we see the idea that God may want for everyone to be saved, but God does not save everybody, only a tiny minority.  For some reason (maybe free will, and the understanding that people have enough light to make right decisions), what God wants is not what God gets.

D.  Abraham calls himself a sinner, but Abraham is not merciful towards other sinners; what’s more, God says that Abraham is not merciful towards them because Abraham himself has not sinned.  And yet, Abraham’s lack of compassion by itself is something that Abraham labels a sin, and Abraham asks God for forgiveness of it.  These concepts appear contradictory.  Could some of that be due to different sources in the Testament of Abraham?  Or perhaps one author believed that these paradoxes could co-exist: yes, Abraham was righteous in terms of his overall walk, but he was also a sinner.  Even if Abraham slipped up at times, the general pattern of his life was to conform to God’s righteous standard.

I am not as righteous as Abraham, not by a long shot, but like Abraham, I can acknowledge that I am a sinner, while still being outraged at the sins that I see on television.  When someone tries to harm someone else, human or animal, that upsets me, and I desire justice.  I do not think that this is wrong.  I hope, though, that I can also be outraged at my own sins.

"My Pain Is Understood"

For its Bible study, my church is going through The Easter Experience: What If What Happened Then Changes Everything Now?  Last night, we did Lesson 3, “My Pain Is Understood.”  The point of the lesson was that Jesus understands whatever pain we are going through, since Jesus himself went through pain: emotional, physical, and relational.

There were three theological issues that came to my mind, two of which were in response to the group’s discussion.

1.  I was wondering what exactly the Book of Hebrews’ Christology is.  In Hebrews 1:2, the author of Hebrews affirms that God made the universe through God’s son.  Yet, vv 3b-4 say (in the NIV): “After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven.  So he became as much superior to the angels as the name he has inherited is superior to theirs.”  But was not the Son of God superior to the angels before his incarnation and ascension back to heaven, according to Hebrews, since he played a role in creation?  Did Jesus gain some status or superiority after his resurrection that was not his before?  I guess that the best I can come up with in response to this question is that Hebrews 2:9 says that Jesus was made lower than the angels, so the author of Hebrews may have believed that the Son of God resumed his superiority to the angels after his death, resurrection, and ascension.  I wonder if there is a deeper explanation, though.

2.  The pastor read to us from the teacher’s version of our booklet, and it was saying that God prior to Jesus’ incarnation did not suffer.  Now, since Jesus came and suffered, there is a part of the Godhead that understands human suffering.  I was not convinced that God prior to the incarnation did not suffer.  It seems to me, from reading the Hebrew Bible, that God in the Hebrew Bible suffered emotionally and relationally, for God was grieved at what human beings did.  I see no reason to take that as less than literal.  But, from a Christian point-of-view, I agree that Jesus’ incarnation was the first time that God suffered physically.

3.  One of the questions in our booklet asked us if we truly believe that Jesus suffered the same sorts of sufferings that we do, and thus we can trust that he understands our suffering.  The pastor read from the teacher’s version, and it said that Jesus did not suffer every single kind of suffering that is out there—-for example, he never experienced the pains of childbirth.  But the booklet said that Jesus experienced every category of suffering: physical, emotional, and relational.

Then someone, whom I will call Joy, asked an excellent question: Did Jesus ever experience the internal suffering that comes through guilt, since Jesus was perfect and had nothing to feel guilty about?  Some in the group replied that Jesus may have felt guilt at times, as when he left his parents as a child to go to the Temple.  The more evangelical attendant of our group did not say anything, but I wondered what went through his mind when he heard that, since he has said in the group that Jesus was perfect and sinless, and thus Jesus could be a suitable sacrifice to God on our behalf.

Joy’s question was kind of like a revelation to me.  Sure, in the course of my life, I heard and parroted over and over again the idea that God understands our suffering because Jesus suffered.  But, perhaps unconsciously, I had a hard time believing that because I thought that God the Father and Jesus were perfect.  I saw God and Jesus as beings who imposed on humanity their perfectionistic and unrealistic demands.  I didn’t think that Jesus could, say, understand my struggles with a grudge, since I saw Jesus as so perfect that he was above having petty grudges.  Recently, I’ve been struggling with Jesus’ statement that God won’t forgive us if we don’t forgive others: If that is the case, I thought, then God does not forgive a lot of people, including a number of Christians, who may hold grudges or be very reluctant to get back into a relationship with someone who hurt them, or who has a habit of hurting them.  I doubted that God truly understood or sympathized with humans in their weaknesses.

Forsake Not the Assembling of Yourselves Together

Hebrews 10:23-25 states (in the King James Version): "Let us hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering; (for he is faithful that promised;)And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works:  Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching."

A while back, someone at a church that I attended asked how often one would have to miss church before he or she technically forsakes "the assembling of ourselves together".  Why would he ask this?  I think it's because there are many who have left Armstrongism who find themselves in a state of exile, as they try to cultivate their relationship with God outside of a church structure.  But I'd also venture to say that even Armstrongism itself can cultivate a "lone-ranger Christian" mentality.  Overall, the Armstrongites believed that they alone had the full truth.  But not everyone who accepted Armstrongite doctrines lived close to an Armstrongite church, and they were not about to attend any nearby Sunday-keeping churches, for they considered those churches to be deceived!  Consequently, there were a number of lone-ranger Armstrongites who stayed home and rested on the Sabbath, as they listened to sermon-tapes from the church's headquarters.

But my impression is that all Armstrongites were expected to attend the Feast of Tabernacles.  There were feast sites in various parts of the country (even the world!), and many people associated with the church felt that God wanted them to take a trip to one of those sites and attend services there.

As I did my daily quiet time in the Book of Joshua recently, I thought about Reuben, Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh, who lived in the Transjordan rather than where the rest of the Israelites dwelt, namely, the Promised Land.  Moses and Joshua told these two-and-a-half tribes that they could dwell in the Transjordan, but they still had to cross the Jordan River with the rest of the Israelites to help those Israelites to take possession of the Promised Land from the Canaanites.  Once Reuben, Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh completed this task, they could return to their homes in the Transjordan.

Would the two-and-a-half tribes be cut off from the rest of Israel after they returned to the Transjordan?   They did set up a controversial altar close to the Transjordan, not for sacrifices, but to communicate that they were still a part of the larger body of Israel.  But they were still expected to offer sacrifices (Joshua 22:27), which would occur wherever the central sanctuary of Israel happened to be.  Presumably, they would still gather with the other Israelites three times a year, during the festivals (at least according to Pentateuchal ideals).

How often does one have to attend church to fulfill Hebrews 10:23-25?  The Israelites only gathered together as one body three times a year.  There, they would celebrate with their families while sharing their food with the vulnerable of society.  And they would remember their national history as God's people: their slavery in Egypt, the Exodus, their experiences in the wilderness, and God bringing them to the Promised Land.

But what about the rest of the year?  They wouldn't be with the entirety of Israel, but they would still be reminding themselves on a weekly basis about their identity as God's people, for they would keep the Sabbath.  They would also observe God's dietary laws and wear items that reminded them of who they were in relationship with God.  Did they gather with others throughout that time, however, albeit on a local basis?  I don't know.  Exodus 16 says that the Israelites on the Sabbath had to stay in their homes, and orthodox Jews still take that command as normative, which is why they have eruvim as a way to circumvent it and allow them to meet together.  At least some Israelites visited the prophet on the Sabbath (II Kings 4:23), and perhaps that was for a worship gathering.  Such passages as Isaiah 66:23 present a scenario of people gathering before God on the Sabbath.  And there were gatherings for worship outside of the central sanctuary, for Deuteronomy 16:7-8 seems to command local gatherings to celebrate the last Day of Unleavened Bread.  Maybe there were local gatherings for worship on the Sabbath.

But, even though not all Israelites may have gathered with others for worship on the Sabbath, three times a year is not exactly insignificant.  These festivals were significant events.  Israelites prepared for them throughout their seasons by sowing and reaping and setting apart their tithes and offerings.  They journeyed to the central sanctuary and rejoiced for a period of time.  It was not a forgettable event, in their minds, for they were salient times each year.

Back to Hebrews 10:23-25.  I'm not sure when one technically gets to the point where he or she is forsaking the assembly of the brethren.  Some act like missing one church meeting counts as that.  Others have a more liberal attitude.  What's important to me, however, is the principle behind assembling: coming together to support each other, encouraging each other to do good, reminding each other of his or her identity before God, helping people to avoid becoming hardened by the deceitfulness of sin, etc. 

The problem is that not everyone sees church as a place that does this.  They find church to be discouraging rather than encouraging.  They see as much vanity and pride and carnality in the church as they see in the world.  They feel more refreshed and in touch with God when they are alone reading a book, or when they are out in nature, than they do in church.  I don't think that it's my place to pressure other people on what they should or should not do.  I attend church, however, because it allows me to remind myself of God, plus it gives me an opportunity to get out of the house and be in a different setting.  I've gone through times when I have been in churches, and when I have been outside of them.  For myself, I prefer the former.

Accountability, Seeing Miracles, and the Israelites in the Wilderness

As I've done my daily quiet time in the Book of Deuteronomy, I've thought about a view that one of my relatives has.  According to my relative, people in this day and age can be saved, but they cannot be lost.  Why?  Because there is not enough unassailable evidence that Christianity is the one true religion for God to judge people according to their response to it.  In the Bible, particularly the New Testament, my relative notes, miracles accompany the proclamation of the Gospel in order to attest to the Gospel's truth (see John 15:24; Hebrews 2:4).  When miracles do not accompany the preaching of the Gospel, however, how can God judge people for rejecting it?  On what basis should people believe in the Gospel as opposed to other religions and philosophies, if God does not prove to them beyond a reasonable doubt that the Gospel is true?

A number of my evangelical friends say that the people who reject the Gospel would probably reject it even if they saw a miracle (see Luke 16:31), but I have issues with that claim.  So people should be judged according to a hypothetical----according to what they would have done?  That makes no sense to me.
So what's this have to do with Deuteronomy?  I read Deuteronomy 1, and it talks about how the Israelites were barred from the Promised Land because of their unbelief.  They were intimidated by the walls of Canaan and the size of the Amorites, and thus they did not want to attempt to conquer Canaan.  I wondered if God likewise judges me when I am afraid, but then I saw that the Israelites in Deuteronomy 1 had advantages that I myself do not have.  As Deuteronomy 1:30-33 indicates, the Israelites had seen and experienced God's power: God's deliverance of Israel from Egypt, God taking care of the Israelites in the wilderness, and God guiding the Israelites by cloud and by fire.  I haven't seen miracles at that level, so, while I can understand God judging the Israelites of that time for being afraid, I have a hard time believing that God judges me for my fear.

Some may argue that God does judge people in the here and now, as God judged the Israelites in the wilderness, for the wilderness generation are paraded before New Testament Christians as an example.  After all, does not the Epistle to the Hebrews warn its Christian audience not to be unbelieving, as were the Israelites in the wilderness, lest they fail to enter God's rest?  And does not Paul in I Corinthians 10 exhort the Corinthians not to be like the sexually-immoral Israelites in the wilderness?  Does not that imply that the lessons of Deuteronomy 1 are for all time, and apply even to those who have not seen God's miracles?

But it can be argued that the Hebrews and the Corinthians, too, saw and experienced miracles.  Hebrews 6:10 refers to people who have tasted the powers of the World to Come.  And I Corinthians 12:28 mentions miracles and the gift of healing.

So is the Bible irrelevant, if people are not held accountable over whether or not they believe in it?  I don't think so.  It has good principles.  I think of the hyper-dispensationalist saying that I've heard that parts of the Bible are for us, but they were not written to us.  For example, I know of hyper-dispensationalists who do not believe that (say) all of the Gospel of Matthew is normative for Christians today, for they maintain that the Gospel of Matthew teaches a works-salvation, whereas Christians are saved by grace through faith.  But they still study the Gospel of Matthew because they believe that it has edifying stuff, even for them.  Similarly, while I am not in the same position as the Israelites in the wilderness or even the early church, I can still be edified by lessons pertaining to them: how we can trust God because he loves us and wants to take care of us, for example.

I should say this about accountability: I do not want to imply that human beings in the here-and-now are not accountable to God for what they do.  The issue that I'm addressing is salvation: when does God hold people accountable for how they respond to the Gospel?  How much knowledge do they need before they indeed are held accountable?  Of course, one can point out that morality and salvation are intertwined issues, for salvation is God saving us from the punishment that we deserve for our immorality.  So things are thornier than I may think.

A Goal and a Mission

I read the itinerary in Numbers 33 for my daily quiet time.  What I'd like to write about today is the goal of life.

I started by thinking about the broad-sweeping history in the Hebrew Bible.  When did it come to be, and why?  At what time would a people develop a broad-sweeping history that would assert that she as a nation had a significant mission or goal as a people?  As far as I know, you don't see too many other nations in the ancient Near East that believed that they had a divine mission.  (Or did they?  The king of Egypt, to use an example, thought that he was supposed to uphold the stability of the cosmos.)

In my opinion, Israel developed a sense of divine mission in exile, as she was searching for something to keep her as a people together, when her national institutions had collapsed.  Israelites were now among Gentiles and were even ruled by other countries.  In the midst of this, I think, Israel embraced the view that God had a plan for her even in this situation----to bring the Gentiles to the worship of God.

Before the exile, Israel probably had a cult and worshiped a national God, like other nations.  Israel may have even had stories about her ancestors and her God, as other nations had stories about their gods.  Israel could have even believed that her God rewarded her for obedience and punished her for disobedience, as other nations thought about their gods.  But would Israel before exile have developed a large-scale narrative about her having a mission to bring the nations to the worship of God and a state of blessedness?  I'm rather skeptical, but I'm open to different ideas on this.

Then I thought about the goal of life.  Israel in Numbers 33 had a goal, the Promised Land.  That sort of story may have developed in exile, when there were a number of Jews who were away from their country and wanted to return to it.  Early Christianity, specifically the Epistle to the Hebrews, offered a spiritualized interpretation of the Promised Land, seeing it as a post-mortem rest that believers will enter (or so I understand Hebrews). 

What is the goal of life?  Is it to go to heaven or the good afterlife?  If that were the case, then why are we even here?  Why didn't God put us in heaven at the outset?   In my opinion, the goal of life is for us to become like Christ----to have a good character.  And I agree with something that C.S. Lewis said in Mere Christianity: that God wants to make us perfect, and he will spend as much time as it takes----in this life and, if necessary, the next----to realize this goal.

But do things work out that way?  There are many people with character defects even when they become old and die.  And there are people who don't even get a chance to develop character because they die early on in life.  And yet, in terms of coming up with a goal that can get me out of bed each morning----a goal beyond mere survival----I'd say that becoming like Christ is a worthy goal.

Cleansing Others, and the Thankless Job

I have two items for today, both of them related to my daily quiet time in the Book of Numbers:

1.  In Numbers 19, we see the law concerning the red heifer, whose ashes are mixed with water to purify those who have become impure through contact with a corpse.  According to vv 18-22, a clean person is responsible for purifying a corpse-contaminated person with that water, but then the clean person has to wash his clothes and remains unclean until the evening.

In my daily quiet time on this passage, I resorted to allegory.  Hebrews 9:13-14 compares the sprinkling of the unclean with the ashes of the red heifer with the blood of Christ purging our conscience of dead works so that we can serve the living God.  (I draw here from the language of the King James Version.)  Similarly, Hebrews 6:1 refers to repentance from dead works.  Essentially, corpse contamination in Hebrews is likened to sin, which is a dead work.  Perhaps sin is a dead work because it is the opposite of life----rather than enhancing life, sin detracts from life and leads to a dead end.

A person will probably need outside assistance to become clean from dead works.  From the standpoint of Christian allegorization of Scripture, who could the clean person who purifies the unclean person be?  First of all, it could be Christ.  The thing is, the clean person who purified the unclean person himself became unclean and had to undergo purification.  But did Christ become unclean, when Christ was sinless?  Could one liken that to Christ becoming sin on our behalf (II Corinthians 5:21)?  In a sense, according to the substitutionary atonement, Christ was treated as unclean so that we might be treated as clean.

Second, could the clean person who purifies the unclean person be likened to the human beings who help us to become better people?  This can occur within the church, but it can also happen within twelve-step programs, or therapy.  (But Christian allegory would probably stick with the church.)  The thing is, the person who undertakes the task of trying to help others to become clean must watch himself or herself, lest he or she be tempted by the sin that baffles the unclean person.  I think of Galatians 6:1: "Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, ye which are spiritual, restore such an one in the spirit of meekness; considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted" (KJV).  In terms of a concrete example, I think of an AA person who wants to help someone else to become sober, and he may find himself in a bar in pursuing this task.  But that AA person has to watch out, lest he become tempted to relapse.  In helping others, we have to remind ourselves of our own values, who we are, and our feet of clay.

2.  In Numbers 22-24, we have the story of Balaam, a prophet whom Balak, the king of Moab, hired to curse Israel.  Balaam was probably attracted to the riches that Balak was offering him, and so Balaam wanted to go and do this task for Balak.  But Balaam decided to speak what God told him to say----to bless Israel, and also to predict future events, which included Israel's triumph over her enemies and the rise and fall of nations.  Balaam did not exactly get a thank-you from Balak; Balaam actually did not get any reward from Balak, and Balak chastised him.

What I thought about as I read this story was how ministry can be a thankless job.  And yet, even if people may not like what the minister is saying, the minister may still be honoring God and performing an important task.  Many people, myself included, like the pulpit because of the adulation that we receive from others.  But what happens when we don't receive adulation?  Can we still take refuge in the realization that we are serving God, and that preaching God's word is important?

Musonius' God

G. Reale, A History of Ancient Philosophy: The Schools of the Imperial Age, trans. John R. Catan (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1990) 72.

The following are quotes from Musonius Rufus (30 C.E.-101 C.E.), whom Reale claims was influenced by Middle Platonism:

In general, man alone among terrestrial beings is an image of God[,] he has virtues similar to him, because not even among the Gods can we suppose anything superior to prudence, to justice, and even to courage and temperance. And as God, by the presence of these virtues, is victorious over pleasure and victorious over immoderation, he is superior to the passions and to envy and jealousy, magnanimous, loving towards man (because it is of such a nature that we imagine God to be); in this way we think that man, who is the image of him, when living according to nature is in the same condition as God, and in this way he is enviable: being enviable, he will himself also be happy, because we only envy the happy.

Your father forbids you to philosophize, but the father of all, men and Gods, Zeus, commands you and imposes it on you. His order, his law is that man be just, noble, beneficent, sober, magnanimous, above fatigue, above pleasures, free of all envy and all deception: to speak briefly the law of Zeus commands all men to be good human beings.

To be honest, this is the second time that I'm reading this book, since I didn't fully comprehend it the first time around. I read that the Middle Platonists believed in man becoming like God, but I didn't know what they meant by that. Did they conceive of God as a personal being? It turns out that they did, and they exhorted people to imitate the gods in virtue, self-control, and happiness.

I've often read that certain philosophers did not like Homer's depiction of the gods, which made them out to be like humans: wrathful, lustful, jealous, etc. That's why they treated Homer as an allegory rather than taking his accounts of the gods literally. What's interesting is that Musonius views Zeus as virtuous, which tends to contradict some of the myths about the gods, and yet he doesn't seem to think that virtue is automatic to the gods. He claims that the gods are "victorious" over pleasure and immoderation. Does that mean that they have desires like humans, yet they have managed to conquer them?

Christianity has this sort of concept because it believes in a God who became a man, Jesus Christ. According to Hebrews, Jesus was tempted in every manner as we are, yet without sin, and he also became perfect through suffering (Hebrews 2:10; 4:15; 5:9).

Handmaid, Know-It-All, Temporary Law

1. Yehoshua Amir, "Authority and Interpretation of Scripture in the Writings of Philo," Mikra: Text, Translation, Reading and Interpretation of the Hebrew Bible in Ancient Judaism and Early Christianity, ed. Martin Jan Mulder (Peabody: Hendrickson, 2004) 439.

"...it is possible to read into Philo's allegory the doctrine of philosophy as 'handmaid of Scripture,' in analogy to the famous formula of philosophy as 'ancilla theologiae' which was later developed by Christian theologians."

I don't know what it means to say that philosophy is a handmaid of Scripture or theology. Does it mean that philosophy can help us understand what's in the Bible, or that it confirms biblical teaching, or that the Bible coincides with it? Was it a way to assure people that the Bible was consistent with the best of Greek philosophy?

At Harvard, I attended a discussion group on the Bible and the historical-critical method. Some suggested that historical-criticism should be a handmaid for the church, meaning that the church should feel free to draw from its insights when they can assist it in its mission: to evangelize and promote righteous living among the flock. Others expressed concern about such a move, since they felt that it compromised the historical-critical method. For them, that approach allowed Christians to cherry-pick the parts of the method that helped their mission and coincided with their theology, while they could disregard the parts that they found more uncomfortable, e.g., challenges to biblical inerrancy and the notion that the entire Bible is an evangelical Christian tract.

I'm not sure what to say about this. Philo probably drew from Greek philosophy because he believed in it, but he didn't take everything from it. For example, Aristotle thought the cosmos was eternal, whereas Philo (as a Jew) believed it had an origin. Was he untrue to Aristotle? I don't know about him, but the medieval Jews who cherry-picked from Aristotle at least tried to show why they disagreed with him in certain areas. Saadiah Gaon, for instance, offered reasons that the universe had a beginning (e.g., you can't go back forever and arrive at the present, if that makes any sense). Whether the church is able to explain why it accepts parts of historical-criticism while rejecting others, I don't know. The important thing, I guess, is what Augustine said: an interpretation of Scripture is good if it encourages us to love God and neighbor.

2. Philip Schaff, History of the Christian Church, Volume II: Ante-Nicene Christianity (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans, 1910) 836-837.

"Caecilius [in the third century C.E. dialogue, Octavius] speaks first (chs. 5-15), in defence of the heathen, and in opposition to the Christian religion...He charges the Christians with presumption for claiming a certain knowledge of the highest problems which lie beyond human ken...He concludes with the re-assertion of human ignorance of things which are above us, and an exhortation to leave those uncertain things alone..."

Christians often do claim to know the mysteries of the universe. My problem is that there are all of these questions out there, and Christians offer their answers, and I'm usually left scratching my head, thinking, "Is that all there is to it?" Is all of life encapsulated in the truths that God made us, we sinned, Christ redeemed us, we're supposed to do good, and Christ will return? Is there nothing else to know?

There have been times when Christianity has appeared rather deep, however. When I was in a Bible study group at DePauw, we were studying I-II Peter, and we could practically derive a sermon out of each verse. It was so deep and multi-layered! The leader of the group said, "It's like God said, 'I'm going to put this in language that the people can understand,' then he does so, and the product is still overwhelming and beyond us!"

At least the Christians tried to understand the deep things. Caecilius, however, did not. He wanted the pagans to offer their sacrifices and be good citizens. His perspective was roughly the same as what we see in Deuteronomy 29:29, only he was a pagan: "The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the revealed things belong to us and to our children forever, to observe all the words of this law" (NRSV). Perhaps Christians believed, however, that knowing certain mysteries could actually enable them to live good lives.

3. "The Law," A Rabbinic Anthology, ed. C.G. Montefiore and H. Loewe (Philadelphia: Jewish Publication Society of America, 1938) 155, 157-159.

"God says, 'In this world, in the chapter of the red heifer, you are made clean and are purified by the mouth of the priest' (Num. XIX, 7-9). But in the world to come it shall not be so. Then God himself will purify you from all your sins and impurities...(Ezek. XXXVI, 25). (Pes. R. 66a.)"

"It is written, 'For this commandment is not in heaven' (Deut. XXX, 11, 12). Moses said to the Israelites, 'Lest you should say, Another Moses is to arise, and to bring us another Law from heaven, therefore I make it known to you now that it is not in heaven: nothing is left of it in heaven'...(Deut. R., Nizzabim, VIII, 6.)"

Many Christians believe that Jesus came with a new law, or he changed the old one. Consequently, we don't have to do what the Israelites of the Old Testament did (e.g., Sabbath, sacrifices, avoid pork, etc.). Many Jews, however, have countered that the Torah is eternal and perpetual, meaning God intended for them always to do those rituals. But there is one Jewish view that things will be different in the World to Come, meaning that Israelites will not always obey every law of the Torah. Could such a belief form the backdrop to what we see in Hebrews? Hebrews asserts that Christians don't need to offer animal sacrifices now that Christ had come, and, in some sense, its author holds that the world to come has broken into the world through Jesus (see Hebrews 6:5). Maybe that's why he sees the Law as flexible.

Gnostic Soteriology

Source: Birger A. Pearson, "Jewish Sources in Gnostic Literature," Jewish Writings of the Second Temple Period, ed. Michael E. Stone (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984) 460-461.

"A closer look reveals that the passage posits three classes of men: the perfect, on whom the Spirit of life has descended; 'those who have not known to whom they belong' (NHC II, 26, 33-34), and 'those who did know but have turned away' (II, 27, 22-23). The 'perfect' (=the Gnostics) are, of course, saved. Those in the second group are given another chance in another incarnation, and can thus be saved once they acquire gnosis. Those in the third group are 'punished with eternal punishment' (II, 27, 30). Moreover the entire passage has been placed by a redactor into the discussion of Seth and his race...as an anthropological excursis. Thus it is the race of Seth which is seen to constitute the 'unmovable race' (NHC II, 25, 23) of perfected and perfectible Gnostics."

Pearson is discussing the Gnostic Apocryphon of John, which was probably written in the second century C.E. (according to my Nag Hammadi Library).

The passage seems to believe that certain people are racially predisposed to enlightenment: the race of Seth. Does the Bible agree with this idea? I'm not sure. In John 8:42-44, Jesus says to the Jewish leaders who rejected him: "If God were your Father, you would love me, for I came from God and now I am here. I did not come on my own, but he sent me. Why do you not understand what I say? It is because you cannot accept my word. You are from your father the devil, and you choose to do your father's desires. He was a murderer from the beginning and does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks according to his own nature, for he is a liar and the father of lies" (NRSV).

I'm not sure if Jesus is saying that those who reject him are the literal children of the devil. Arminians like to claim that the Jewish leaders Jesus was addressing chose to be children of the devil, by their own free will. If that is true, why did Jesus tell them that they could not accept his word? Where's the free will, here?

(NOTE: I'm not calling any people-group the "seed of Satan," and I disagree with any denomination that believes in racial hatred. I notice, however, that the concept of Satan's seed appears in various parts of Scripture, and I wonder what it means.)

The Apocryphon of John, however, does not seem to hold that a class of people is unable to receive God. Rather, as far as they're concerned, there are some who do not know to whom they belong, and God will give them another chance in another incarnation. The Christianity that made its way into the New Testament does not really agree with this notion, for Hebrews 9:27 states, "And just as it is appointed for mortals to die once, and after that the judgment[.]" Even if the New Testament does not exclude the possibility that God will have mercy on those who never heard, it's not explicit regarding this gray category, as is the Apocryphon of John. Neither is early Christian literature, as far as I can see.

But both the New Testament and the Apocryphon of John agree that there is an eternal punishment, and that those who fall away from God will suffer it. As Hebrews 6:4-6 states, "For it is impossible to restore again to repentance those who have once been enlightened, and have tasted the heavenly gift, and have shared in the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the age to come, and then have fallen away, since on their own they are crucifying again the Son of God and are holding him up to contempt."

Similarly, early Christian literature exhorts Christians to stay in the faith and do good works, since otherwise they will face eternal punishment. There's no "once saved always saved" here, though, of course, the Gnostics apparently assume that the Sethites will persevere in the faith.

Hebrews and Animal Sacrifices

The epistle to the Hebrews contends that animal sacrifices cannot take away sin. Why not? In Hebrews 10:1-4, we see its rationale:

"Since the law has only a shadow of the good things to come and not the true form of these realities, it can never, by the same sacrifices that are continually offered year after year, make perfect those who approach. Otherwise, would they not have ceased being offered, since the worshipers, cleansed once for all, would no longer have any consciousness of sin? But in these sacrifices there is a reminder of sin year after year. For it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins" (NRSV).

I want to concentrate on the part about animal sacrifices being offered "year after year." The author of Hebrews wonders: if sin offerings truly cleansed the Israelites of sin, then why did they have to offer them every year on the Day of Atonement? Shouldn't once be enough? By contrast, v 12 says that "Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins." Unlike animal sacrifices, Christ doesn't need to be offered on a continual basis, for his one sacrifice of himself was sufficient to atone for sin.

I don't entirely understand Hebrews' reasoning. Just because the Israelites offered animal sacrifices every year, does that show that the sacrifices were ineffective for atonement? Maybe they cleansed the sins of the previous year. But when a new year arrived, so came a fresh batch of sins, and they too had to be removed. Just because a ritual is continually needed, that doesn't make it ineffective. I need to take a bath on a regular basis, but that doesn't mean the bath doesn't do its job for the day. Does the bath fail to remove dirt just because I have to do it more than once?

And the same is true in Christianity: sure, we have been cleansed through the sacrifice of Christ, but we still need to ask for forgiveness on a continual basis (Matthew 6:12, 14-15; I John 1:9). Why must we do that, if we've been forgiven once and for all? Isn't continual confession and repentance similar to the regular offering of the animal sacrifices? In both, we have to keep the slate wiped clean.

Hebrews says that animal sacrifices didn't work because the Israelites were not cleansed once and for all, plus they still had a consciousness of sin even after they had offered them. But isn't that true of Christians as well? They need to ask for forgiveness on a continual basis, which shows (1.) that they need repeated cleansing, and (2.) that they still have a consciousness of sin.

Of course, Hebrews 8:8-13 is clear that the old covenant by itself was defective because of the sinfulness of the Israelites. That's why the new covenant is about God writing his laws on people's hearts: we need a new nature in order to become sinless. The Israelites could offer their sacrifices year-in and year-out, but did that change their sinful nature? If it did, then why did they have to sacrifice sin offerings every single year?

Maybe Hebrews is saying that only Christ can take away sins--in the sense of bringing Christians to a state of actual sinlessness. And, indeed, Hebrews does use such terminology as "perfecting." Yet, at the same time, Hebrews also seems to say that Christ's death brings forgiveness (not just practical cleansing from sin) in a way that animal sacrifices do not. Hebrews 10:18 says, "Where there is forgiveness of these, there is no longer any offering for sin," which indicates that, in contrast to the Old Covenant sin offerings, Christ's one sacrifice was sufficient for atonement.

And so I'm back where I started: If Christ's one sacrifice cleansed Christians of sin once and for all, then why do they need to keep on receiving forgiveness? And how does what Christians do differ from the Israelites' continual offering of animal sacrifices?

Maybe Hebrews doesn't hold that Christians need to keep their slate clean. Perhaps it thinks that their slate is already clean--and that it always will be, unless they deliberately leave Christ (Hebrews 6:4-6; 10:26-27). Hebrews is clear that Christians will still sin, so it encourages them that they have a faithful and merciful high priest who is eager to help them (Hebrews 4:15-16). But maybe (unlike Matthew and I John) it doesn't assume that they need to receive continual forgiveness; rather, as far as Hebrews is concerned, Christians have already been forgiven--once and for all time--and they come to Christ primarily for compassion and aid as they struggle against sin.

Could it be that Matthew and I John resemble Catholics in their view on forgiveness, whereas Hebrews is more like a lot of Protestants on that issue?