Bible + Theology
Esther is an exciting book of the Bible. It contains all your classic storybook ingredients: a bold, beautiful heroine (Wonder Woman, anyone?), shifting love interests, a life or death threat to the good guys, a villain you absolutely love to hate, and of course a happy ending. There’s suspense and dramatic irony and reversals of fortune and poetic justice. Really, this story has it all! That is, except for God.
2 Peter is a little book with a whole lot of passion. It feels intense, but that’s to be expected when the apostolic pillar of the early church pens his last words. Peter knows he’s about to die so he carefully crafts this farewell speech to the network of churches in Asia Minor.
2 Corinthians is a letter written by the apostle Paul in response to a complicated relationship between him and the church at Corinth. Let’s just say they “had a history.” Paul started this Jesus community sometime before on one of his missionary journeys (see Acts 18). After moving on to plant more churches, he gets a disturbing report that things were not going well in Corinth (1 Cor. 1:11).
This week, we dive into the book of Jeremiah and his message of judgment against Judah. There is no better place to go than Jeremiah’s famous temple sermon in chapter 7. This passage is like a one-stop shopping center for all things “Jeremiah and judgment,” so understanding what’s happening here will help you better grasp what’s going on in the rest of the book.
It’s easy to read 1 and 2 Kings and think of it as a history of Israel. While it does tell the story of Israel and the succession of its kings, the author isn’t writing history just for the sake of history. We know this because he quotes extensively from outside source books called the “Chronicles of the Kings of Israel.” So, if a historical account of the kings isn’t the primary purpose of the books, what is the point of 1 and 2 Kings?
When you turn to the book of Proverbs and read the opening line, “The proverbs of Solomon son of David, king of Israel” (1:1), you expect to start reading proverbs – short, clever sayings that pack a punch and offer you some kind of wisdom on the good life. But, that’s not what you get. Instead, you get ten long, cohesive speeches from a father to a son interwoven with four poems from “Lady Wisdom” to humanity.
It’s easy to get confused right off the bat when you open Ezekiel. The book begins with the most complex prophetic commission text in the Old Testament. Chapter 1 immediately launches you into a vision filled with strange things such as human but animal-like creatures, wheels within wheels, and fluttering wings that sound like an army. It's pretty bizarre.
Last week, we explored Ezekiel’s prophetic calling as he was confronted by the awesome glory of God’s temple presence, his kavod, in Babylon. The vision of the “God-mobile” was pretty bizarre, but by chapter 11 the point could hardly be missed – Israel’s idolatry and violence had compelled God to leave his own temple. The only thing left for these rebellious people (and the surrounding pagan nations) was divine judgment.
Titus is a short book that packs a punch. A quick reading reveals three concentrated chapters filled with authoritative language and blunt commands. Paul wasn’t messing around when he wrote this letter to Titus, a Greek follower of Jesus who helped Paul navigate tight situations.
Our generation has a problem with authority – we don’t trust it and, quite frankly, we don’t like it. This presents unique challenges in speaking to the Bible’s authority, a concept rejected by many as antiquated and stifling. How can an ancient document have the right to command me to any belief or action in the twenty-first century? And how can, or perhaps why should, any book bind my conscience in all matters of faith, life and practice?
I knew it was coming. The conversation was inevitably leading to one of my least favorite assertions. I thought to myself, “Please don’t say it, please don’t say it.” Too late – the familiar words spilled out of her, “I’m not into theology. I just love God and people.” I cringed. Another well-intentioned believer had fallen prey to the false dichotomy between thinking well about God and living for God.
Jesus was born during the late Second Temple Period, a period charged with messianic expectation. For hundreds of years Second Temple Jews suffered beneath the foreign rule of one pagan empire after another. This instability energized the hopes of God’s people for deliverance and vindication. “Where is Messiah?” was the cry of every good Jew.
As far back as I remember I’ve lived with an insatiable appetite. I’ve always hungered for more – more of a good meal or a good feeling or a good moment. Regardless of how satisfying the food or the experience or the relationship may be, I inevitably awake desiring more.