Book Write-Up: Playing the Part, by Jen Turano

Jen Turano.  Playing the Part.  Minneapolis: Bethany House Publishers, 2016.  See here to buy the book.

Playing the Part is set in New York city in the late nineteenth century.  Lucetta Plum is an actress.  Her step-father Nigel is a gambling addict, and he loses a game of cards to Silas Ruff.  Lucetta is shocked and outraged to learn that Nigel gambled Lucetta!

Lucetta is friends with a widow, Abigail Hart, who enjoys matchmaking.  Abigail wants to set Lucetta up with her rich grandson, Bram Haverstein.  Bram is eccentric, but in a lovable sort of way.  His mansion seems to be haunted, however, and it has strange devices.  When Bram and Lucetta awkwardly meet, Bram recognizes her as the actress Lucetta Plum, and he is enamored with her work.  Lucetta is reluctant to get involved with a fan, though, because she feels that fans value her persona on stage, not her.

The first third or so of the book was really good.  Jen Turano set up the plot well.  Her writing style was sophisticated rather than dumb-downed.  I could sympathize and empathize with the characters, on some level.  Bram shone in all his eccentricities, as Lucetta shone in her vulnerability and self-protectiveness.

As the book went on, though, it interested me less and less.  It was probably after Bram proposed to Lucetta to keep her safe from Silas Ruff that my interest lessened.  The dialogue between Bram and Lucetta got old after a while.  There were a lot of characters to follow.  The resolution of the mystery of the "haunted mansion" was rather anticlimactic, as even characters in the book admitted.  The book had a scattered feel to it.  When Abigail got together with Archibald at the end, I wondered who Archibald was.  Apparently, he was discussed earlier in the book, but not enough for me, as a reader, to care.  Things were also resolved in a rushed manner.

There were still fairly good elements of the book after my interest lessened, even if they could have been developed or executed better.  Bram's sister Rosa stopped looking for a suitor in high society because she preferred the strong, silent type of man, meaning the Stoic Mr. Skukman.  We learn about how Lucetta's mother ended up with Nigel: she had always loved him, even before she married Lucetta's father.

One aspect that did not entirely set right with me was that Lucetta often played a damsel in distress on stage.  Bram was attracted to that persona, since he was the sort of person who liked to rescue people; after all, he employed convicts at his mansion!  But he came to be attracted to the real Lucetta: intelligent, independent, knowledgeable, witty, a shrewd investor!  Still, in one scene, he did save her when she was in peril.  Maybe I would have preferred for Lucetta to play her independent persona on stage and for Bram to be attracted to that, as if that set her apart from other actresses.  But Turano went in the direction that she went, and I do not count that as among the negative elements of the book.

The book was somewhat lacking of a spiritual element.  One would expect more of a spiritual element in a Bethany House book.  But spirituality did not seem to play a significant role in Lucetta's rushed healing.  When it occasionally did come into play, it related to how God works things out for good in people's lives.  Maybe I would have preferred for characters to draw on God's strength in times of suffering.

On the scattered nature of the book, some have pointed out that we encounter some of these characters in other novels by Jen Turano.  Perhaps I would have felt more comfortable with the characters had I read the other books, and the fault for my impression lies with me, the reader.  At the same time, I see no indication from the book itself----on the cover or anywhere else----that the book is part of a series.  If the book is part of the series, then that should have been made clear.  Technically, the book can stand on its own, but reading the other books may enhance one's appreciation of the characters.

In short, the book started out well, but it then fell flat.

I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review. 

Not All Together: The Exodus, Prophets, and Kings

This will be somewhat of a rambling post, but not horribly rambling.  I will start out with what Philo says about the Exodus in Special Laws II:217-219.  Then, I will interact with a fictional book that I recently read about the Exodus: Mesu Andrews' Miriam.  (I received a complimentary review copy of that from the publisher, by the way.)  Finally, I will offer some thoughts about the ABC TV show On Kings and Prophets, which is about Saul, David, and Samuel. 

In Deuteronomy 26, there is a law about how the Israelites are to bring firstfruits to God at the sanctuary.  In doing so, the Israelites are to make a statement to God about where they came from, and where they are now.  The statement is in vv 5-10, and it is as follows:

A Syrian ready to perish was my father, and he went down into Egypt, and sojourned there with a few, and became there a nation, great, mighty, and populous:
6 And the Egyptians evil entreated us, and afflicted us, and laid upon us hard bondage:
7 And when we cried unto the LORD God of our fathers, the LORD heard our voice, and looked on our affliction, and our labour, and our oppression:
8 And the LORD brought us forth out of Egypt with a mighty hand, and with an outstretched arm, and with great terribleness, and with signs, and with wonders:
9 And he hath brought us into this place, and hath given us this land, even a land that floweth with milk and honey.
10 And now, behold, I have brought the firstfruits of the land, which thou, O LORD, hast given me. (KJV)

The first century Jewish exegete (or eisegete) Philo of Alexandria renders this recitation as follows, in Special Laws II:217-219:

"The leaders of our nation renounced Syria, and migrated to Egypt. Being but few in number, they increased till they became a populous nation. Their descendants being oppressed in innumerable ways by the natives of the land, when no assistance did any longer appear to be expected from men, became the supplicants of God, having fled for refuge to entreat his assistance. (218) Therefore he, who is merciful to all who are unjustly treated, having received their supplication, smote those who oppressed them with signs and wonders, and prodigies, and with all the marvellous works which he wrought at that time. And he delivered those who were being insulted and enduring every kind of perfidious oppression, not only leading them forth to freedom, but even giving them in addition a most fertile land; (219) for it is from the fruits of this land, O bounteous God! that we now bring you the first fruits; if indeed it is a proper expression to say that he who receives them from you brings them to you. For, O Master! they are all your favours and your gifts, of which you have thought us worthy, and so enabled us to live comfortably and to rejoice in unexpected blessings which thou hast given to us, who did not expect them."  (C.D. Yonge's translation)

Philo may have composed this version of the recitation himself or drawn it from someplace else.  This version of the recitation probably draws from the Septuagint, but it also adds elaboration of its own.  The Septuagint of Deuteronomy 26:3 states that the Israelite's father cast aside Syria and went down to Egypt.  Similarly, Philo's version of the recitation affirms that the leaders of Israel renounced Syria and went down to Egypt.  Philo's version also elaborates on the Israelites calling out to God while being oppressed, and God delivering them.  In Philo's version, the Israelites cry out to God when there is no other place to turn, when it did not appear that any human being would help them.

This made me think about Mesu Andrews' Miriam, which is about the Exodus.  In Miriam, the Israelites have to make some pretty serious adjustments when Moses comes to deliver them.  They are not exactly on the right page religiously.  Moses' sister Miriam worships the God of Israel under the name of El Shaddai, but she has to transcend her longstanding comfortable relationship with God when this God is about to do something new.  Miriam's nephew Eleazar does not even know if he likes this God whom Moses is proclaiming, and who is striking the Egyptians (and, initially, even the Israelites) with plagues.  And many Israelites worship pagan gods, including the pagan gods of Egypt.  What is more, there are Israelites who are reluctant to go out into the desert and start a new life.  Eleazar is fearful of his Egyptian oppressors and the power they have over his life and the lives of anyone he may love.  Still, that existence is what he knows, and he is hesitant to part from it for the unknown. 

This is not exactly the picture that we get in The Ten Commandments (1956) or The Prince of Egypt.  In the 1956 Ten Commandments, the Israelites, with the possible exception of Dathan, believe in the Hebrew God.  They hope for deliverance.  They cry out to God for deliverance.  Their faith is the only thing they have to hold onto in the midst of their bitter life.  The Prince of Egypt opens with the song "Deliver Us," as the Israelite slaves cry out to God to deliver them and to fulfill God's promises to them.  Later in the movie, Miriam and Zipporah sing, "Many nights we prayed, with no proof anyone could hear..." 

Mesu Andrews' version is probably more (albeit not exactly) similar to the 2006 ABC version of The Ten Commandments.  There, the Israelites have different opinions about the God of Israel.  Some believe in God, while others reject God or do not believe in him.  "Then where is he?!", Moses' father Amram shouts at one of his pious fellow Israelites.  "What has he ever done for us?!"

Both Mesu Andrews' version of the Exodus and the version that is in the 1956 Ten Commandments and The Prince of Egypt can find support in Scripture.  The Israelites did cry out to God when they were suffering oppression in Egypt, according to Deuteronomy 26:7.  And yet, Ezekiel 20 paints a picture of God trying to show the Israelites in Egypt his divine power.  In that chapter, God encourages the Israelites to reject the gods of Egypt.  But the Israelites are stubbornly resistant towards God's plea.  God does not just want to deliver the Israelites physically but also spiritually, and the latter task is very difficult.

Then there is Exodus 2-3.  The Israelites cry when they are in bondage, and God hears their cry and sees their suffering.  What is interesting is that the passage does not explicitly say that they were crying out to God in prayer.  It says that they were crying.  They could have  been groaning on account of their afflictions, without calling out to God.  Still, their cries reached God's ear.

Which version do I prefer?  All of them contribute valuable insights, in my opinion.  Hoping in the face of hopelessness can be powerful.  At the same time, many of us can find that our bondage is not simply physical but psychological and spiritual as well.  We may become accustomed to our bondage, or we may buy into the societal values that keep us in bondage rather than transcending them through faith.  I think that Mesu Andrews should have done something with the biblical concept of the Israelites calling out to God.  Still, her portrayal of the Israelites as not exactly on the right page when God was showing up to deliver them is an intriguing take on the story.

That brings me to the ABC program On Kings and Prophets.  This show premiered last Tuesday, and it is about the biblical story of Saul, David, and Samuel.  In the show, Samuel is a spooky prophet who tells King Saul, in the name of the LORD, to slaughter the Amalekites, in retaliation for the Amalekites attacking Israel hundreds of years before soon after the Exodus.  Saul is reluctant to do this for a variety of reasons.  Saul is concerned about the Philistines, not the Amalekites, who are not an immediate threat to Israel.  Saul wonders why he should attack Amalek over something that took place hundreds of years before.  Saul reflects on how Israel is supposed to be a light to the nations, and he wonders if he would be imitating the brutality of the Amalekites were he to slaughter all of them----men, women, and children.  Then there are people who are telling him that Samuel is interested in power, anyway, since Samuel used to be in charge of Israel, until Saul became king.

Then there is David.  At least in the first episode, David is not particularly pious.  He is a goodhearted man, for he tries to intercede with his father when his father cannot pay his taxes, due to a lion eating his flock.  David kills the lion, but he attributes that more to his skill or to luck than to God.  Michal, Saul's daughter, who would eventually become David's wife, tells David that God was helping him out.  David hears the idea, but it is somewhat odd, or foreign, to him. 

The show's interaction with the slaughter of the Amalekites is intriguing, and yet it could have been a little more balanced.  In the Bible, when Samuel kills Agag, the king of Amalek,  Samuel does not just mention something that occurred hundreds of years before, which is what happens in the show.  Rather, Samuel says that Agag's sword left women childless, and now Samuel was doing the same to him (I Samuel 15:33).  Granted, there are many who doubt or dispute that the Conquest in the Bible can be adequately defended or explained away, and they may have a point.  Still, the show could have presented a little more balance by highlighting that Agag was not exactly an angel, himself.

The portrayal of David is interesting because David, like the Israelites in Mesu Andrews' Miriam, is not all together, spiritually.  His faith in God in the show may turn out to be a journey, something that develops, rather than something that has always come naturally to him.  I am looking forward to seeing how that unfolds!

Leavened and Unleavened Bread in Philo's Special Laws I-II

I have been reading Philo's Special Laws.  Philo was a first century C.E. Jewish exegete in Alexandria, Egypt.  He interpreted the Torah in light of Greek philosophy.  In Special Laws, he attempts to give a rationale for various laws in the Jewish Torah.

I have read Books 1-2 of Philo's Special Laws.  Something that stood out to me there is Philo's contradictory treatment of leavened and unleavened bread in the Torah.  One reason that this stood out to me is my own religious heritage.  I grew up in Armstrongism, which observed the Feast of Unleavened Bread.  We could not eat leavening for the seven days of that Feast, but instead we ate unleavened bread (i.e., matzos, Triscuits, Rye Crisp, Wheat Thins, for a while) during that time.  Pastors waxed eloquent about the alleged symbolism of leavened and unleavened bread.  Leavening represented such negative things as sin and pride, whereas unleavened bread represented humility, sincerity and truth, and Christ.

How is Philo contradictory in his discussions about leavened and unleavened bread?  In one place, he offers a symbolic interpretation of leavened bread that is negative.  In another place, his interpretation of leavened bread is positive.  That could be because the Torah itself is rather ambivalent about leavened bread.

Let's start with the negative interpretation.  In Special Laws I.289-295, Philo is addressing Leviticus 2:11.  To quote Brenton's translation of the Septuagint of that passage (since Philo used the Septuagint): "Ye shall not leaven any sacrifice which ye shall bring to the Lord; for as to any leaven, or any honey, ye shall not bring of it to offer a gift to the Lord."

Philo speculates about why leaven and honey are not allowed to be sacrificed to God.  He proposes that honey is not allowed for sacrifice because bees are unclean and originate from "the putrefaction and corruption of dead oxen" (Yonge's translation).  That sounds like one of those beliefs in abiogenesis that my high school biology textbook tried to refute, in looking back at the naive views of the old days!  Another possibility that Philo proposes is that honey is an example of "superfluous pleasure" (Yonge) that may taste good but that throws the body into turmoil down the road.  This interpretation accords with Philo's asceticism.

On leavened bread, Philo states that it is prohibited for sacrifice because it represents pride, since leaven causes bread to rise.  When people approach God, they should do so with humility.  Philo then makes a beautiful qal va-chomer argument about how we should be humble in our approach to other people: If God, who is superior to us, condescends to show us mercy, how much more should we be humble in our stance towards people who are composed of the same material as us?  Philo, at least in this passage, promotes equality among people.  He does that a lot in Special Laws.  He does not always follow through on the ramifications of this: he still believes that slavery is necessary for society, and that women should be subordinate to men.  Still, he thinks that equality is a good principle, a truth that should be accepted and applied.

While Philo in Special Laws I.289-295 is negative about leaven, he is positive about it in Special Laws II.182-187.  There, Philo is interpreting Leviticus 23:17, which concerns the presentation of firstfruits to God.  To quote Brenton's translation of the Septuagint for that passage: "Ye shall bring from your dwelling loaves, as a heave-offering, two loaves: they shall be of two tenth portions of fine flour, they shall be baked with leaven of the first-fruits to the Lord."

Philo appears to make the enigmatic statement that "the bread is leavened because the law forbids any one to offer unleavened bread upon the altar" (Yonge).  Yonge in a note refers to Mangey, who says that parts of this passage are "corrupt and unintelligible" (Yonge's words).  A problem Mangey had with the passage is that the Torah prohibits the offering of leavened bread, not unleavened bread, on the altar (Exodus 23:18).  The Torah says the opposite of that alleged statement by Philo.  Philo is aware of this, for Philo in Special Laws I.289-295 talks about God's prohibition of offering leavened bread, as we saw.

Philo goes on, though, to explain why the Israelites are to present leavened bread.  It has to do with leaven being quality food.  Philo also associates leaven with joy, abundance, and thanksgiving that God has saved people from scarcity.  An unleavened cracker is not particularly satisfying, but one can get full off of leavened bread!  Moreover, leavening inflates, and we feel inflated when we are joyful.

Philo also talks about leavened and unleavened bread in Special Laws 2.156-161.  There, he is talking about the Feast of Unleavened Bread, and he speculates about why God forbids the Israelites to eat leavening on that day, while having them eat unleavened bread.  Philo lists a variety of reasons:

----The Israelites took unleavened bread with them after leaving Egypt.  This accords with Exodus 12:34, 39, which affirms that the Israelites ate unleavened bread at the Exodus because there was not enough time for the dough to rise.

----The Feast of Unleavened Bread occurs before the harvest.  The crops are not yet ripe and abundant.  Unleavened bread, similarly, is "imperfect or unripe" (Yonge).  In eating unleavened bread, the Israelites are hopefully anticipating the abundance that will come at the harvest. 

----Unleavened bread is closer to nature than leavened bread, which is prepared by human artifice.  For Philo, this is appropriate for the Feast of Unleavened Bread, which he believes commemorates the creation of the world.  Philo believes that this Feast is promoting a simpler time, before people became enamored with pleasure.  He thinks that this Feast encourages a rigid, holy life.  Once more, Philo's asceticism comes into play in his interpretation of the Torah.

Philo's interpretation may strike people as rather arbitrary.  Something to consider, I think, is that Philo is trying to reconcile his asceticism with a Torah that often promotes abundance and enjoying physical blessings.  One can perhaps reconcile Philo's contradictory tendencies by saying that there is a time to rejoice, and a time to weep (a la Ecclesiastes 3:4).  Modern critical scholars struggle with the significance of leavened and unleavened bread in the Torah.  Perhaps what one can get from Philo is that unleavened bread served to add solemnity to occasions, whereas leavened bread coincided with joy and celebration.  (Of course, Philo calls the Feast of Unleavened Bread a time of celebration, yet he thinks that the Unleavened Bread in that case encourages asceticism.)

Anointing Jesus for Burial

At church this morning, the pastor preached about the story in John 12:1-8 about Mary anointing Jesus for burial.

In John 12:1-8, Mary (the sister of Martha, not Jesus' mother) anoints Jesus' feet with nard while he is having dinner with her brother Lazarus and others.  Jesus' disciple Judas expresses fake outrage that the perfume was not sold and the money given to the poor, for the perfume was worth a year's wages.  Jesus tells Judas to leave Mary alone, for she was preparing his body for burial.

The pastor said that Jesus, at this point at least, realized that what he was doing in his ministry would lead to his death.  The pastor asked when exactly it dawned on Jesus that he would die: did he know when he was a child?  The pastor had his doubts about that.  He thought that it dawned on Jesus later.

Somehow, Mary knew that Jesus would soon die.  Maybe Jesus shared that with her.  In any case, she cared enough about Jesus to minister to him when he was about to die.  And the smell of nard would be on Jesus when he was dying on the cross.  The pastor was talking about how we can be like Mary and care for people when they are suffering.

I did an Internet search to find where exactly in John's Gospel this story was.  It turns out that there is a parallel to this story, in Matthew 26:6-13.  There, Jesus is having dinner at the house of Simon the leper.  The woman is not named, and she pours the perfume on Jesus' head; the story here does not say that she poured it on his feet.  The disciples in general, not just Judas, express outrage that the perfume was not sold and the money given to the poor.

There is also a parallel in Mark 14:3-9.  The Mark story is more like Matthew's version than the story in John.  There is a commonality between Mark and John, however: both point out that the perfume is worth a year's wages.  Unlike in Matthew and John, Mark is not very specific about who criticized the woman for her deed: Mark just says that some of those present at the meal were criticizing her.  In one part of the story, Mark also spells things out more than Matthew and John: Mark has Jesus saying that the poor are with you always, then explaining that people can help them whenever they want.  Matthew and John say that the poor are with you always, without explaining the point of that.

Are these reconcilable?  Maybe.  John does not say that the meal took place at the home of Simon the leper, but John does not say where exactly the meal took place.  One would think that John places it at the home of Lazarus, since Martha is serving it; that may be likely, but it is not necessarily the case.

Some may think that these are different versions of the same event.  Maybe some fundamentalists would see the events as so different that they would posit them as two separate events.  Some liberal scholars may argue that ideology is behind some of the differences in detail: John wants to make Judas the one who was critical of Jesus.

Maybe something like this happened in history.  It is a beautiful story, though, about a woman who cared enough about Jesus to honor and to comfort him when he was about to die.

Book Write-Up: The Parables of Jesus, by James Montgomery Boice

James Montgomery Boice.  The Parables of Jesus.  Chicago: Moody Publishers, 1983.  See here to buy the book.

James Montgomery Boice was a renowned Presbyterian pastor.  This book, The Parables of Jesus, is a collection of sermons that he preached in 1980-1981 about Jesus' parables in the synoptic Gospels.  One reason that Boice decided to put them in book form was that they convinced a young man who heard them to doubt that he was truly born again, notwithstanding his religiosity.  That conviction led the young man to a genuine profession of faith.  Boice concluded that others could benefit from his sermons.

My main problem with the book is that it reminds me of the old Puritan spiritual insecurity.  It runs like this: We have to realize that we are sinners to be accepted by God.  On the other hand, we can only know that we are true Christians when we look at our lives and our hearts and see spiritual fruit: a love for righteousness and a hatred of sin.  So we need to believe that we are bad, yet we also need to think that we are good (albeit imperfectly good) to have assurance that we are saved.  What's more, we need to be able to identify God's work on our hearts: God doing for us what we cannot do for ourselves.  And in the backdrop (or maybe even the forefront) of all of this is hell: those who are unsaved and fail these tests will spend eternity in hell.

There is a lot of pressure there, some of it about things that may be difficult for a person to control!  What if you're like me: you want to do the right thing, but there's just so much sin within you that you wonder if God is working in you at all?  Suppose you are going through Boice's sermons and you find that you do not particularly care for that kind of God?  Well, Boice does refer to one of Jonathan Edwards' sermons that talks about how human beings are enemies of God.  I guess Boice would say that your dislike for God is evidence of your sinfulness, which deserves damnation.  But, to his credit, Boice does try to offer hope to the struggling soul.  He encourages people to be open to God, which gives God the opportunity to work on their hearts.  Still, according to Boice, they need to realize in doing this that their being open to God does not merit them salvation.  Boice also exhorts them to be honest with God about their hard hearts and their dislike of God, and God may renew them.

This kind of spiritual treadmill may have some assets.  In my opinion, it's a good thing for people to take a moral inventory of themselves and to be open to God.  But is there a place for relaxing in God's love and grace?  And fear of hell being part of the mix can stress a person out, when people already have enough stress in life.  Perhaps Boice's sermons would have been better had he emphasized God's love and grace more.  He did have sermons about the Parable of the Lost Sheep and the Parable of the Prodigal Son, but there could have been more in his book about God's love and grace.  There could have been more encouragement.  A Lutheran, for example, would probably take hell as seriously as Boice, but her interaction with the parables would highlight God's love and grace.  It would also make salvation look accessible, not merely possible or elusive (not that Boice intends to portray it as such, but that is the impression that I get).

On account of what I say above, I cannot say that I "like" the book.  But I cannot say that I dislike the book, either, because it does have positives.  Therefore, I give it three stars.

What are some of the book's positives, in my opinion?

Well, first of all, while the book does smell (to me at least) of Puritan insecurity, it also echoes Puritan practicality.  For example, Boice gives us things to look for within our hearts and actions when we are trying to determine if we are materialistic.  He talks about the importance of having gratitude rather than a feeling of self-entitlement.  In these cases, Boice offers practical tips about how one can have a constructive outlook on life.

Second, Boice does well when he actually attempts to explain parables in light of their immediate context.  A lot of times, he does not do this, but rather he imports other parts of Scripture or his Reformed views into his interpretation of a parable.  But when he does wrestle with the immediate context of the parable and seek to arrive at an interpretation that way, he does that rather well.  His attempts to determine whether the "world" in the Parable of the Wheat and the Tares (Matthew 13) means the world or the church comes to mind as an excellent discussion.

I was rather ambivalent about one story that Boice told.  Boice talked about how Christian H.A. Ironside was challenged to a debate by an agnostic.  Ironside accepted the challenge, but on one condition.  Both sides would have to bring to the debate people who were down and out at some point, but their lives became better in response to the message of the speaker, whether that message be the Christian Gospel or agnosticism.  Ironside could definitely bring people to the debate who became positively changed as a result of the Gospel, but the agnostic could not find people who became better as a result of becoming agnostic.  Of course, we're supposed to conclude from this that Christianity is right and agnosticism is wrong.  On the one hand, this story did encourage me to appreciate the positive changes that Christianity has brought in people's lives.  On the other hand, I do think that there are agnostics who can testify that agnosticism has made them better: less judgmental, more appreciative of people rather than having the ulterior motive of trying to sell them the Gospel, etc.

I received a complimentary review copy of this book from the publisher, in exchange for an honest review.   

Book Write-Up: Things That Differ, by Cornelius R. Stam

Cornelius R. Stam.  Things That Differ: The Fundamentals of Dispensationalism.  Germantown, WI: Berean Bible Society, 1985.  See here to buy the book.

A lady lent me this book over ten years ago, when I visited a dispensationalist Bible study.  I tried reading it at the time, but I could not get into it.  Last week, I was trying to remember the title of the book, and I finally stumbled onto it after visiting some grace sites: Things That Differ.  The book is a very lucid presentation of Cornelius Stam's version of dispensationalism.

A.  Rather than reinventing the wheel and defining dispensationalism, I will start this post with a rough summary of what Stam argues.  Stam appeals to passages from the synoptic Gospels, Acts, and Paul's epistles.

Stam presents the following scenario:

Jesus was offering Israel a kingdom, in accordance with what the Old Testament prophets predicted.  This kingdom would entail the restoration of the Davidic dynasty, with Jesus ruling as the Davidic king.  It would also entail paradise, and the nations being drawn to Israel's God through Israel's example and exaltation.  Jesus taught Israel and ministered to her to prepare her to take up this role. 

But the Jewish authorities rejected the Kingdom Jesus offered by putting Jesus to death.  After Jesus rose from the dead, God filled the Jewish apostles with the Holy Spirit and offered Israel the Kingdom once more.  Peter at Pentecost proclaimed that those were the last days, and he encouraged the Jews listening to him to repent and be baptized for the forgiveness of sins.  Stam notes that Peter said nothing about Christ's death being an atonement for sin, for he does not think that Peter had that light yet.  While there were many Jews who were being baptized, the Jewish authorities blasphemed the Holy Spirit by stoning Stephen.  Jews and Gentiles united against Christ.

According to Stam, God could have proceeded with his end-time agenda right then and there.  God could have punished the nations and purified Israel, reconstituting Israel on a Jewish remnant that believed in Jesus.  Jesus said that God would do this: that his Jewish apostles would replace the Jewish authorities as the leaders of Israel and would rule the twelve tribes (Matthew 19:28; 21:43).  Instead of going forward with that plan, however, God decided to postpone it.  God responded to the nations' rebellion against him by inaugurating a dispensation of grace.  The Kingdom would be delayed.

The apostle Paul was the administrator of this dispensation of grace.  For Stam, Paul was an appropriate exemplar of this administration for two reasons.  For one, God showed Paul grace by converting him from being a persecutor of the church to becoming an apostle.  Second, Paul was a Jew but also a Roman citizen.  This coincided with how the dispensation of grace would bring Jew and Gentile together into one body, the church.  During this dispensation, God would depart from God's original agenda of blessing the nations through Israel's acceptance of the Messiah and God's glorification of Israel; rather, as Paul said in Romans 11, Israel's rejection of the Messiah would result in the Gospel going to the Gentiles and the Gentiles coming to God through Christ.

This administration of grace was not predicted in the Old Testament, according to Stam.  It was new.  Paul calls his Gospel a mystery that was kept secret since the world began (Romans 16:25).  Paul's Gospel includes Christ dying for people's sins and the truth that the Gentiles can become part of Abraham's seed through faith (Romans).  It is a message in which God, though Paul, exhorts people to become reconciled to God (II Corinthians 5:18-20).  Paul says that God's plan to include the Gentiles and Jews into the church as fellow-heirs was a mystery, unknown until that time (Ephesians 3:3-9).  This mystery also includes Christ being in believers as the hope of glory (Colossians 1:26-27). 

According to Stam, this dispensation of grace will end when the church is raptured to heaven.  At that time, the end-times will resume, and the earth will go through the Great Tribulation.  God will purify and restore Israel, and Israel will be a blessing to the nations.

B.  Stam's model is appealing.  It makes sense of different parts of Scripture, while preserving a literal interpretation of themes in the Hebrew Bible (i.e., remnant, restoration of Israel, etc.).  Yet, Stam has to deal with the Bible being messier than that.  Here are some issues:

----Was Paul preaching something that the Old Testament prophets, or the Old Testament, had not predicted?  Paul said that his message was in accordance with what the prophets had predicted (Acts 26:22; Romans 1:2).  Paul said that the justification of the Gentiles by faith was foreseen in the Scriptures and related to God's promise to Abraham to bless the nations through Abraham's seed; Paul even says that the Gospel was preached to Abraham (Galatians 3, see v 8).  Acts 15 and Romans 15 seem to indicate that the inclusion of Gentiles in the church fulfills Old Testament prophecy.  In reciting the church's creed (arguably), Paul said that Christ dying for our sins, a key part of Paul's Gospel, was according to the Scriptures (I Corinthians 15:3).  And did not Isaiah 53 predict a figure who would die for people's sins?  How does this mesh with Stam's argument that key elements of Paul's Gospel were unknown prior to the first century?

Stam tries to get around these challenges in a variety of ways.  He says that Isaiah 53 was about Christ dying for the sins of Israel, not the entire world.  Stam seems to argue that God went forward with some of his goals that he communicated through the prophets concerning the Gentiles, but that God proceeded notwithstanding Israel's rejection of the Kingdom.  In short, God was fulfilling some of the goals that he articulated in the prophecies, but not the prophecies themselves.  Stam says that Christ is still the hope of Israel (which Paul associates with his message in Acts 28:20) because Christ's resurrection is the basis of Israel's hope.  Under this logic, even though God is not working through physical Israel in this dispensation of grace under Paul, Christ needs to be alive for Israel's restoration to take place in the future, and Paul was proclaiming that Christ was alive because Christ was risen.  Stam notes that Galatians 3:8 says that Scripture foresaw, not foretold, that the Gentiles would be justified through faith (and what Stam is implying by that, I have no idea).

Here is a thought: maybe Paul's Gospel was predicted in the Scriptures, while also being a mystery that was unknown before the first century.  For Paul, the prophets could have predicted Paul's Gospel, but the exact nature of the prophecies' fulfillment was unknown until the first century. 

----For Stam, there was a time of transition into the dispensation of grace.  The dispensation of grace emerged gradually, in a sense.  Prior to Paul even becoming an apostle, God sent Peter to the Gentiles (Acts 10); for Stam, God here was anticipating the rejection of Israel as a nation and the inclusion of the Gentiles into the church, even before the dispensation of grace.  And, after Paul was converted, Paul preached to Israel, often going to synagogues in cities before preaching to the Gentiles (i.e., Acts 17). 

Stam does not believe that water baptism is a part of this dispensation of grace, for people are baptized in the Spirit (I Corinthians 12:13), and that is the only baptism (Ephesians 4:5 says there is one baptism).  For Stam, Christians are spiritually baptized in this dispensation of grace.  As far as Stam is concerned, water baptism was a physical ritual that God associated with cleansing in the past, but it is not required in this current dispensation.  And yet, Paul was baptized in water after his conversion (Acts 22:16), and Paul baptized a few people in water (I Corinthians 1).  For Stam, this was a time of transition.  Paul was also appealing to the Jews, who valued physical rites such as water baptism.  (Note: Stam believes that water baptism is unnecessary in this dispensation, but, unlike some dispensationalists, he still believes in the observance of the rite of the Lord's supper in the here and now.)  For Stam, this was also the case with miracles: the early church and Paul did miracles because Jews valued signs (I Corinthians 1:22), and the miracles were intended to persuade them that Jesus was the Messiah.  (My question: Were not miracles also done to persuade the Gentiles?  See Acts 14.)  For Stam, miracles are not a part of the dispensation of grace.  

In short, for Stam, the dispensation of grace did not fall from heaven all at once.  There was a time of transition.  Stam does believe, however, that Acts 28 officially marks when God stopped working with the nation of Israel.  Stam may even think that Paul's prison epistles mark the full revelation of the dispensation of grace.  Stam still believes, though, that the dispensation of grace was around before then, albeit in a transitional stage, and he argues against dispensationalists who believe otherwise.

----Dispensationalists distinguish between the church and Israel.  Stam does so as well, overall.  At the same time, Stam still has to deal with the claim in Galatians 3 and Romans 4 that Gentile believers in Christ are Abraham's seed and heirs according to the promise.  Does that not treat Christians as Israel?  In addition, the new covenant was promised to the house of Judah and the house of Israel (Jeremiah 31), but Paul in I Corinthians 11:25 seems to say that the new covenant is for believers in Christ. 

Ironically, Stam seems to get around this by using a similar argument to that used by Vern Poythress in his critique of dispensationalism, Understanding Dispensationalists.  Poythress argued that Christ was the true Israelite, and Christ brings God's promises to Israel to the Gentile Christians who believe in him.  Christ receives God's promises to Israel as the true Israelite, then passes them on to Gentile Christians.  Stam seems to me to argue similarly: through their association with Christ, the promised seed of Abraham, Gentile Christians can enjoy some of the blessings that God gave to Israel, including the new covenant blessings of God writing God's laws on people's minds and hearts.

C.  Stam had interesting discussions about such passages as John 20:23 ("Whose soever sins ye remit, they are remitted unto them; and whose soever sins ye retain, they are retained", KJV) and the relationship of Gentiles to the Mosaic law.

----Let's start with John 20:23.  That is a troubling verse because it seems to endow human beings with the authority to forgive and retain sins, something that I think humans are too fallible to possess!  Stam does not seem to think that this verse applies to today, however.  Rather, he applies it to the time between Pentecost and the dispensation of grace.  We see this time in Acts 4-5: the Jewish believers were filled with the Spirit and shared their possessions with each other.  During this time, Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, was able to see into people's hearts.  He knew that Ananias and Sapphira were lying to the Holy Spirit, and he judged them accordingly!  Peter had the authority to forgive and remit sins, but he also was filled with the Holy Spirit and would thus do so fairly and in accordance with God's will.  That was true then, but the same situation may not exist today.

Incidentally, there are other dispensationalists who appear to apply passages in the Gospel of John to the time between Pentecost and the dispensation of grace.  John 14:13 states: "And whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, that will I do, that the Father may be glorified in the Son" (KJV).  This is a troubling passage: God will do anything we ask in Jesus' name?  Anything?  But I was listening to dispensationalist Richard Jordan, and he said that promise does not apply today.  Does he believe that it relates to the believers in Jesus soon after Pentecost?  They did miracles to show people Jesus was the Messiah, so, in a sense, God may have been granting whatever they asked in order to glorify the Son.

----Paul's Gospel seems to say that people violated God's law, and so God sent Jesus to atone for those violations.  But can this apply to the Gentiles, who did not receive God's law to Israel?  Stam responds to this question by arguing that, in a sense, Israel was a representative of all the world.  Israel showed through her sins that she could not obey God's commands and thus needed a savior.  That meant that the Gentiles would not be able to do so, either.  Thus, the Gentiles, too are beneficiaries of Christ's atonement for transgressions.

Book Write-Up: Dispensationalism Today, by Charles Ryrie

Charles Caldwell Ryrie.  Dispensationalism Today.  Chicago: Moody Press, 1976. 

In Dispensationalism Today, dispensationalist Charles Ryrie addresses what he believes are unfair misconceptions about dispensationalism. 

Here are some items:

A.  Let's start with a definition of dispensationalism.  On pages 211-212, Ryrie highlights three areas of disagreement between dispensationalists and non-dispensationalists:

(1) We believe in the clear distinction between Israel and the Church; (2) we believe that normal or plain interpretation of the Bible should be applied consistently in all its parts; and (3) we avow that the unifying principle of the Bible is the glory of God and that this is worked out in several ways----the program of redemption, the program for Israel, the punishment of the wicked, the plan for the angels, and the glory of God revealed through nature.

For more information about characteristics of classic dispensationalism, see my posts here and here.

B.  An argument against dispensationalism is that it is relatively new on the Christian scene.  It supposedly originated in the nineteenth century.  If it is the truth, critics inquire, then why did previous generations of Christians not believe that way?

Ryrie responds to this argument in a variety of ways: new does not mean untrue, and dispensationalism's rival Covenant Theology is also relatively new on the scene. 

One argument Ryrie makes, though, is that we see dispensationalist-like statements throughout Christian history.  For example, Ryrie quotes Justin Martyr's Dialogue with Trypho 92.  Justin Martyr was a Christian thinker who lived in the second century C.E.  In that passage, Justin Martyr notes that Enoch, Noah, and Noah's sons pleased God without being circumcised or observing the Sabbath.  By contrast, according to Justin Martyr, "those who lived between the time of Abraham and of Moses [were] justified by circumcision and the other ordinances----to wit, the Sabbath, and sacrifices, and libations, and offerings..." (whatever translation Ryrie is using).  For Justin Martyr, God worked in different ways at different times, which is what dispensationalists allege.

I have two points to make.  First of all, were Israelites between the time of Abraham and Moses justified by circumcision, as Justin Martyr says?  Paul in Romans 4 stresses that Abraham was justified by faith before he was circumcised, which means that Abraham was not justified by circumcision.  When Justin Martyr says "between the time of Abraham and of Moses", does he exclude Abraham from that?  Does that technically mean the time right after the time of Abraham, up to and including the time of Moses? 

Second, Ryrie could have made this chapter better by addressing what church fathers believed about Israel and the church.  That, after all, is a crucial issue in controversies about dispensationalism.  Did church fathers think that the church was the new Israel, which runs contrary to classic dispensationalism?  To what extent did they believe that God still had a plan for physical Israel?  There were some church fathers who had a physical, literal, earthly conception of the millennium (i.e., Justin Martyr, Irenaeus), like dispensationalists do.  Irenaeus arguably believed that God still had a plan for physical Israel in that millennium, and that belief would overlap with classic dispensationalism (Against Heresies V, Chapter 35).  At the same time, Irenaeus also differed from classic dispensationalism: he believed that the church would suffer during the end times rather than being raptured to heaven before the Tribulation; he thought that the land promises that God made to Abraham (Genesis 15) would ultimately be for the church, unlike classic dispensationalists, who think that they are for physical Israel (Against Heresies V, Chapter 32).  

C.  Ryrie argues against the idea that dispensationalism believes people were saved by works under the Old Covenant.  For Ryrie, people have always been saved through the blood of Christ.  They have also been justified by faith, but that means faith in what God has revealed to them.  Like many classic dispensationalists, Ryrie rejects the idea that people in Old Testament times clearly knew and placed their faith in the truth that Christ would come and atone for their sins.  For Ryrie, their "faith" was their response to God's revelation to them at that point, not belief in the Gospel as Christians understand it.  As Ryrie asks, if the Old Testament saints truly believed that the blood of Christ was what atoned for their sin, why would they continue offering animal sacrifices for atonement?

Ryrie mentions John 8:56 when discussing the view of Covenant Theologians that Old Testament saints did have a clear understanding of what God would do in Christ.  That passage affirms that Abraham saw Christ's day and was glad.  Unfortunately, Ryrie does not offer an alternative interpretation of that verse, one that would be compatible with his dispensationalist position.  Could one legitimately conclude that Abraham may have foreseen Christ's day, while not knowing all of the details about Christ's atonement for the sins of the world?  Dispensationalists may have a point when they contend that Old Testament saints did not fully understand God's plan.  Paul refers to mysteries that were unknown up to the time of the first century (i.e., Romans 16:25; Ephesians 3:3-5, 8-10; Colossians 1:26-27).  That invites the question of how much Abraham could see when he foresaw Christ's day.

Ryrie believes that grace did exist in Old Testament times; yet, he also thinks that the New Testament took that to a whole new level.  Why else would John 1:17 say that the law was given through Moses, but grace and truth came through Jesus Christ?  There does appear to be a contrast between the two.

Yet, Ryrie also seems to divorce the law under the Old Covenant from Old Covenant salvation.  The law, according to Galatians 3, did not nullify God's promise to Abraham concerning justification by faith but was added because of transgressions: the law did not nullify grace, but it placed Israel under a system of discipline until Christ came.  Ryrie also appears to argue that the Old Testament sacrifices were unrelated to (or inadequate for) personal salvation but had more to do with restoring a sinful Israelite's position in the ancient Israelite theocracy.  These arguments may suggest that, for Ryrie, the law had more of a this-life focus and was unrelated to eternity or the afterlife.  But was the law unrelated to whether one enters a good or bad afterlife?  If so, then why does Paul argue throughout Romans that Christ redeemed people from the condemnation of the law?  That seems to suggest that, for Paul at least, the law was relevant to eternity, not just this-life.  If the law was unrelated to one's eternal destiny, what exactly was Christ redeeming people from?

D.  Ryrie addresses the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of Heaven.  For Ryrie, Jesus offered the Kingdom to Israel: Jesus would restore the Davidic dynasty and inaugurate a time of paradise, if Israel would accept him.  Israel did not accept him, and so the Kingdom has been delayed.  Now, according to Ryrie, we are in the time of the church.

Ryrie still believes that the church is relevant to the Kingdom of God.  Believers, after all, will rule the earth during Christ's millennial reign.  The church is not the Kingdom, as some Christians believe, but the church will participate in God's kingdom, which is God's larger plan for the world.

Yet, Ryrie has to deal with passages that appear to suggest that the Kingdom is still a reality during the time of the church, after it has been supposedly delayed.  Paul in Romans 14:17 says that the Kingdom of God is not food and drink but righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.  Colossians 1:3 affirms that Christians have been transferred from the realm of darkness to the realm of God's son.

Ryrie argues that there are two kinds of kingdom, when it comes to God: a spiritual kingdom of God's rule that has long been around, and the earthly Davidic kingdom that Jesus was offering Israel.  The latter, for Ryrie, is the kingdom that the prophets predicted. 

In my opinion, Ryrie makes good points about the Kingdom.  I agree with him that Jesus probably was offering Israel something that was new, rather than something that had always been around.  I just wonder, though, if Ryrie is being too one-sided in associating the Kingdom Jesus preached primarily with the restoration of Israel and the Davidic monarchy.  Could the church be experiencing eschatological Kingdom blessings in the here and now?  Could the Kingdom relate to the subordination of the demonic, or conversion, not just Israel's earthly blessings? 

Ryrie also argues against the claim that dispensationalists believe that the cross of Christ would have been unnecessary for atonement, had Israel accepted Jesus' kingdom offer.  For Ryrie, dispensationalists believe that the cross would have still been necessary for atonement, even had Israel accepted the Kingdom.  Ryrie was not overly specific about how this would have played out, though.  If Israel accepted Jesus, would Jesus have still been put to death (i.e., by the Romans, without support from Jewish religious authorities)?  Does Ryrie believe that the apostles were offering the Kingdom to Israel again after Jesus died and rose again, which some hyper-dispensationalists believe is going on in Acts?

E.  Ryrie argues against hyper-dispensationalism.  For Ryrie, the church began at Pentecost.  Hyper-dispensationalists, by contrast, have tended to argue that the age of the church began sometime later in the Book of Acts.  They also believe that Paul's prison epistles are the only parts of the Bible that are directly relevant to people today.

Ryrie made important points.  For example, Ryrie notes that the church was around in Acts prior to the various points that hyper-dispensationalists propose as the beginning of the church age (yet, as he points out, hyper-dispensationalists differentiate that church from the church of the church age).  Hyper-dispensationalists see Paul as the one who introduced and inaugurated the church age and the revelation of mysteries accompanying it.  Ryrie argues, by contrast, that Paul's Gospel was consistent with the Gospel that the other apostles were already preaching (Galatians 1); that Paul says that the mystery of Christ was revealed to the apostles and prophets, not just himself (Ephesians 3:5); and that the mystery of Christ in you was something Jesus discussed with his apostles much earlier than Paul, in John 14.  (There are hyper-dispensationalists, by the way, who do not believe that John 14 is relevant to now.)

I have been reading Cornelius Stam's Things that Differ.  Ryrie includes Stam among the hyper-dispensationalists.  Stam is not always that rigid.  For example, in my reading of Stam today, Stam was saying that Peter, in preaching to the Gentiles prior to the time of Paul, was actually anticipating the coming church age.  Stam believes that Paul was the main figure of the church age, perhaps even the administrator of that dispensation and the inaugurator of it.  Still, Stam acknowledges some precursor to it.

Ryrie's book is informative, but sometimes I wanted more information.