Theology for the Masses

The first of the two prophetic oracles initiates the interpreter into the enthronement ritual. Here the prophet announces that Yahweh has extended to the king a position of prestige at his right hand. This imagery is incomparable; in the Psalter a king is regularly represented as sitting (bvy) before God’s face (ynEåp.li),[1] but rarely at His right hand (ynI+ymiyli(). This subtle shift and its similarities with Egyptian symbolism has led some scholars to suggest that the image is “imported from Egypt, as an invitation for the king to ‘dwell’ rather than ‘sit’ at the right hand of God.”[2] The imperative (bveî) is not merely a command but an invitation which permits the king to inhabit Yahweh’s presence.[3]

Yahweh’s invitation has three implications. First, the authority of kingship and the victory over enemies is entirely derivative. The enthronement ceremony involves an “actual transferral of authority,”[4] which occurs by divine decree (~aun>) spoken by a prophet, but God is the real King and the earthly ruler rules “as a co-regent and representative, deriving his authority from his divine counterpart.”[5]

Second, the summons assumes the king shares in the life and actions of the divine King. The king has dominion over his foes, not as a passive agent,[6] but as a sovereign who subjugates enemies in a manner that concedes he is deriving his power from and participating in the larger purposes of the God of Israel. Yahweh will make his enemies a footstool for his feet.[7] Subdued enemies becomes the theme of vs. 2 in explanation of the extent of the king’s authority which expands from Zion[8] right into the midst of his enemies (br<q<åB.). The metaphor employed here is an extended scepter (hJ,m;), an emblem of world dominance, martial authority, and national glory (Jer. 48:17).[9] The phrase dealing with world dominance is controlled by an imperative (hdEªr>÷) that involves an element of promise: the prophet assures the king that the vanquishing of his rivals will most certainly take place in the future.[10]

Finally, the transmission of authority and the promises of world dominance and divine protection are intimately connected in history and ritual with the king’s divine Sonship: an idea which speaks nothing of ontological realities, but rather of status and adoption. In the ceremony of conferral of authority, the prophet enacts a legal transmission whereby the king is declared the adopted son of God.[11] The designation of divine sonship finds its roots in Ps. 2:7, the parallel text to 110:3.  110:3 has long been deemed “mysterious”[12] and the “most obscure verse in the whole Psalter.”[13] Understanding the verse entails considering a fair amount of textual alteration and thus this text has fashioned numerous scholastic constructions and explanations. The factors are numerous but here are a few. First, the verse contains two nominal clauses which offer the interpreter no indication of time. Second, a textual variant in 3b might be rendered either “holy majesty” (MT) or the minority reading, “on the holy mountains.” Here I will retain the MT reading primarily because the majority rendering of vd<qoß-yrEd>h;B. provides a fitting transition between the discussion of kingship and the discussion of priesthood. Third, due to the corruption of the Hebrew text and its lack of verbs, the LXX offers the most likely route for interpretation by inserting evxege,nnhsa,. This makes the most sense, especially in light of Ps. 2:7. Fourth, a hapax legomenon (rx’v.mi) occurs in the second phrase creating the usual interpretive difficulties associated with such an anomaly.[14]

Verse 3 begins with the imagery of the king’s subjects eagerly offering themselves to his military service, then moves to a three line description of the king’s Sonship which occurs in mixed-metaphor. The first metaphor, as already noted, has two possible Hebrew constructions. The majority reading used here portrays the king as “arrayed in holy splendor (Ps. 29:2).” The word vd,qo places his kingly majesty in a cultic context and creates a nice transition into vs. 4.[15]

The metaphor shifts at this point into two lines describing how the king was begotten of God “from the womb of the dawn (rx”+v.mi ~x,r<äme).”[16] Employing the LXX reading, which provides the word evxege,nnhsa,, the final line carries the metaphor of birth by asserting that Yahweh is the progenitor of the king. The king is the son of God through divine decree and a decisive transformation “of the kings essential nature (Ps. 2:7)”[17] through the set of legal acts previously footnoted[18] This proclamation legitimizes the kings rule. By the time of the Psalter’s compilation, this psalm had clearly taken on messianic, eschatological significance, but at the time this particular psalm was written, it would have served the political ideologies of “that segment of society (urban elite) who benefited from a centralized government”[19] because of its exaltation of the king to the status of sharing in divine glory and receiving divine power with Yahweh’s “unconditional commitment to protect and prosper Israel.”[20] Centralizing political power into one figure is now accompanied by centralizing religious power in the same figure.

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[1] Ps. 61:7

[2] Bvy can mean both “to sit” and “to dwell.” Othmar Keel, The Symbolism of the Biblical World. (Winona Lake: Eisenbrauns, 1997), 263. Keel provides other evidence for this suggestion by citing the fact that certain reconstructive models of the temple have placed the royal palace on the right side of the temple, threshold to threshold with God’s dwelling place. The other option is that the ark may have been processed into the Gihon spring and the throne of the king placed beside it. Allen, 80.

[3] Bill T. Arnold & John H. Choi, A Guide to Biblical Hebrew Syntax. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 63.

[4] Kraus, 112.

[5] Allen, 86.

[6] Some scholars have suggested that the psalm is so Yahweh-centered that it depicts the king as a relatively passive agent who sits protected as Yahweh goes to war for him. While this is largely true, the psalm is concerned primarily with Yahweh’s actions, it misses the evidence of verse 3 where the king has troops who offer themselves as free will offerings as they rally around the king for battle.

[7] Such imagery has parallels in ancient Egpyt. Certain iconographic archeological discoveries depict adversaries situated underneath the feet of Egyptian rulers. At times the imagery in these discoveries depicted other deities being dominated by the superior, Egyptian deities. (Keel, 255) The implications of such a reading for Ps. 110 are staggering. Yahweh subdues the enemies of Israel, not merely as secular enemies but as enemies which are such because they have devoted themselves to false deities who are also defeated and possess no authority of their own.Greg Boyd, God at War. (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1997), 243. Aside from the possible Egyptian parallels, the Old Testament uses the footstool metaphor repeatedly in reference to Davidic kings and Yahweh’s defeat of their enemies (I Kings 5:3).

[8] The place of the kings coronation according to Ps. 2.  “It is the city of Jerusalem in its political and historical existence, particularly in the realm of cultic language and thus religious thought: it is concerned with the city of Yahweh. Zion in the place where Yahweh dwells or at least may be reached.” Randy G. Haney, Text and Concept Analysis in Royal Psalms. (New York: Peter Lang Publishers, 2002), 123.

[9] Allen, 86. Furthermore, it seems possible that the hJ,m; is reference back to the Exodus where Yahweh rescued Isreal from Egypt with a shepherds staff.

[10] The action itself is still dependent upon Yahweh’s prior actions because such ends lie “outside the power of the [king].” Arnold & Choi, 64.

[11]Referring to Ps. 2:7, Kraus notes, “The prophetic and procedural declaration, ‘You are my son, today I have begotten you,’ is disclosed as a creative word that establishes new existence. The divine choice is reflected in adoption. The chosen king is placed at god’s side by adoption. He is elevated to the position of representative of God’s sovereignty and of heir to his power. Thus it is that in the Old Testament the king was not “son of God” by nature, nor did he by his ascending the throne necessarily enter into the sphere of the divine, but by a decision of Israel’s God he was declared to be son at his entry into the office of king.” Kraus, 113.

[12] Ibid., 114.

[13] Allen, 80.

[14]Some have seen here a reference to the Canaanite deity Shahar in the word rx’v.mi, but this is entirely unlikely because the imagery in this verse is one of giving birth and Shahar was a male, not a female, deity. Also, Isaiah 14:12 describes the king of Babylon as rx;v’_-!B, (a son of the dawn), which seems to be a clearer connection with that Shahar.  Robert Davidson, The Vitality of Worship. (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Col, 1998), 365. Sigmund Mowinckel, The Psalms in Israel’s Worship. (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2004), 64.

[15]If the minority text is employed, “on the holy mountains,” the phrase would then describe “the location and process of begetting to the heavenly sphere. The king comes forth from heights beyond the world, from the world of God…Thus in Ps. 110:3 on the day when the ruler ascends the throne he is ascribed miraculous origin from on high and the hope of a dawning light, birth from the ‘heavenly world.’” This, of course, would flow nicely with the following assertion of divine sonship in the last two lines of this verse and the reference to the morning dew. Kraus, 114.

[16] The other attractive option at this point in this terribly difficult verse, is that the writer continues to speak of those who volunteered for the kings military service. The metaphor of the dew describes the vast number of warriors at the kings disposal. In this reading the entire army of Israel is dressed in holy attire, not just the king. Haney, 124.

[17] Kraus, 113.

[18]Taken in the larger military context of this passage, it seems plausible that Yahweh’s begetting of the king in the womb of the dawn is an indication that the king is Yahweh’s tool for helping Israel in her time of need, events often associated with the morning (Ps. 46:5-6). Such a reading also places this assistance nicely within the immediate context of the king having a zealous army at his side .Again, however, it should be remembered that the kings military might is derived from Yahweh not his own strength or military prowess.

[19] Brueggemann, 606.

[20] Brueggeman, 606.

If you wanna join in a conversation on theological loan words and equating the will of the Lord with the Bible, come on over!

The following is written by Jon Zens, a prolific Reformed writer and authority on New Covenant Theology:

First, 1 Cor.7:1-5 is the only place in the NT where the word “authority” (Greek, exousia) is used with reference to marriage. But it is not the authority of the husband over the wife, or vice versa, that is in view, but rather a mutual authority over each other’s body. 1 Corinthians 7:4 states that the wife has authority over her husband’s body. One would think that this would be a hard pill to swallow for those who see “authority” as resting only in the husband’s headship.

Second, Paul states that a couple cannot separate from one another physically unless there is mutual consent (Greek, symphonou). Both parties must agree to the separation or it doesn’t happen. The husband cannot override the wife’s differing viewpoint.

John Piper suggests that “mature masculinity accepts the burden of the final say in disagreements between husband and wife, but does not presume to use it in every instance” (p.32). The problem with a dogmatic statement like this is that it will allow for no exceptions. But 1 Corinthians 7:5 contradicts Piper’s maxim. If the wife disagrees with a physical separation, the husband cannot overrule his wife with the “final choice” (p.33). Such separation can occur only if both husband and wife are in “symphony” (unity) about such an action.

Now if mutual consent applies in an important issue like physical separation from one another for a period of time, wouldn’t it seem proper that coming to one-mindedness would be the broad model for decision-making in a healthy marriage? Piper feels that “in a good marriage decision-making is focused on the husband, but is not unilateral” (p.32). In light of 1 Corinthians 7:1-5 I would suggest that decision-making should focus on finding the Lord’s mind together. Over the years the good ideas, solutions to problems and answers to dilemmas will flow from both husband and the wife as they seek the Lord as a couple for “symphony.”

1 Corinthians 7:5 throws a wrench into the works for those who would include the husband’s “final say” in male headship. Paul teaches that unless the couple can agree on a course of action, it cannot be executed. I suggest that this revelation invites us to re-examine what the husband’s headship really entails (cf. Gordon D. Fee, “1 Corinthians 7:1-7 Revisited,” Paul & the Corinthians: Studies On A Community in Conflict, Trevor J. Burke/J. Keith Elliott, eds., Brill, 2003, pp.197-213).

The 110^th Psalm’s structure is anchored within two prophetic pronouncements (vs. 1 and 4). Though scholars have espoused various structural breakdowns, a two section division seems most sensible. Parallelisms between verses 1-2 and 4-5 are too numerous to ignore. These include the repetition of the name hwhy and repetition of His acts of pronouncing a future reality.[1]

The entire psalm is a particularization of the phrase “until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet (^yl,(g>r:l. ~doåh] ^yb,ªy>ao÷ tyviîa’-d[;).” This particularization occurs by means of numerous contrasts: hands and feet; sitting and moving; Zion and the nations; my right hand and your right hand.

The first pronouncement proclaims that the king will sit on Yahweh’s right hand until the time at which his enemies become a footstool for him. As noted, this idea is then particularized in the four subsections that follow, essentially announcing “how” hwhy will bring this reality about. The second pronouncement (vs. 4) connects the king with the priestly lineage of Melchizedek, a feature which might seem out of place if we were discussing Aaronic priests, but because Melchizedek’s Genesis context is being blessed by Abraham after the defeat of the kings of Sodom, the psalmist’s connecting him to military imagery seems natural. This pronouncement is, like the first, accompanied by four subsections which serve to particularize verse 4.[2]

Finally, one of the more interesting features of the psalm involves a stylistic connection, at points, with prophetic oracles. Each of the two statements anchoring the structure of the psalm stylistically reflects prophetic discourse.[3] Examples of prophetic discourse and the importance of the structure of this psalm will be discussed in the following post in this series.

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[1] There are also other occurrences which indicate this two fold division, namely the repeated use of certain elements in the one section with no reference to the element in the other section. For example, Allen astutely notes the first strophe is characterized by the eightfold repetition of the pronominal suffix ^ (your) in vs. 1-3, while the second is marked by the fourfold repetition of the preposition l[;. Neither of these elements occur with the same frequency in the alternative strophe.

[2] Other notable features involve an inclusion that moves from the first verse with there reference to the kings enemies being placed under his feet (lg<r,) to the final verse which references his head (varo,) being lifted up. The alliterative aspect of this inclusion highlights another prominent feature of this psalm.

[3] One example will suffice here. The “Day of Wrath” rhetoric occurs in numerous prophetic books. It is a day in which Yahweh is viewed as a divine warrior warring against pagan nations and intervening to protect the king and His people. Is. 5:15, Jer. 9:21, Ez. 32:5-6

This is the most amazing and biting sentence I have ever read.

I appreciate that for so many people in late Western modernity the idea of people “living within a controlling narrative” seems foreign (though we all do it cheerfully: every time people say “in this day and age” they are appealing to an assumed idea of modernity, or progress, or enlightenment); that for many Christians within the Protestant traditions the idea of continuing history as having importance in itself, and of expecting deliverance within history, is not on the radar screen, perhaps for implicit religious reasons; and that for many, perhaps most, contemporary Western readers of the New Testament (John Piper’s “ordinary folk” perhaps), the effort required to think into a worldview where people were thinking to themselves, When is God going to do what he’s promised? is all too much, and they shake their heads and settle back into the comfort of a non-historical soteriology the long and short of which is “my relationship with God” rather than “what God is doing to sort out the world and his people.”

Wright, Justification, p. 61

That is one sentence; Paul would be proud.  Also – where is the evidence of the Lucado personal relationship theology?

Within the canonical context, there can be little doubt that the 110^th Psalm is messianic and eschatological in nature. Not only does the New Testament cite this psalm more than any other in reference to Jesus Christ, but the actual placement of the psalm within the Psalter either “beside a pair of Davidic psalms, Ps. 108, 109, or subsequently attracting them to it as a cluster, already reflects a messianic understanding”[1] at the time of the Psalter’s compilation.

 That said, there remains substantial difficulty in discerning the dating of this psalm.[2] The ascription places the dating at the time of David, possibly his enthronement or his successful sacking of Jerusalem. An assortment of scholars align the psalm with post-exilic priestly activity, arguing for a redaction from a prior document rooted in the Davidic dynasty. Still other speculations span from the eras of Abraham, Simon Maccabeus, King Josiah, and King Solomon. While recognizing the difficulty involved in dating, this series works from the assumption that the earliest materials[3] present within this psalm originate in the Davidic dynasty.[4] With the biblical evidence suggesting that the Davidic kings did in fact have mediatory, cultic functions (I Kings 8:22-26, Jer. 30:21),[5] there seems to exists no incontrovertible evidence excusing the extraction of this text from a pre-exilic locale.

Composed of two prophetic pronouncements, the voice present in this psalm is probably that of a court prophet serving as a subject of a newly enthroned king (ynI©doal;()[6] and probably performing a professional function during the enthronement procedures.[7] The pronouncement of the prophet entails Yahweh’s endowment of the king with dominance over his adversaries[8] and cultic, mediatory authority.[9] Such a merging of military and cultic privilege is a well documented practice in Ancient Near Eastern (ANE) literature, though admittedly rather rare in the Old Testament.

With the ambiguity of the introductory material noted,[10] the remainder of this series will be concerned with working from within the text itself, beginning with a brief sketch of the structure of the psalm and concluding with a lengthier set of comments on the more noteworthy features of the text.

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[1] Leslie C. Allen, Psalms 101-150. Vol. 21. The Word Biblical Commentary. (Waco: Word Books Publisher, 1983), 79.

[2]  For broader reasons for the difficulty of dating this and the other Royal Psalms, see Gunkel, 118.

[3] Though the earliest writer materials indicated a time during the Davidic kingly era, some of the rituals and traditions behind this document likely go back to the Jebusite royal traditions, of which the Melchizedekian comes to the foreground for this psalm.

[4] The primary argument for a post-exilic dating asserts that vs. 4 indicates the period of the Maccabean priest-kings, most likely around 105 B.C.E. The problem, however, is that the text does not say that a priest will become king. Rather, a king is given the status of priesthood, and that status is not even Aaronic. Post-exilic Maccabean priestly rulers would have certainly found this and other psalms helpful, but the evidence that they authored these psalms is scant. A comparison with non-canonical, post-exilic poems demonstrates that the non-canonical psalms of this period are exceptionally weak, “reflecting corroded imitations of ancient patterns. They are removed from the outstanding flourish of the songs in Pss 2 and 110.” Gunkel, 119.

[5] Hans­-Joachim Kraus, Theology of the Psalms. A Continental Commentary. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992), 111.

[6] Gunkel identifies the 110^th Psalm as a Royal Psalm, and suggests it was sung on the “day of anointing of the young ruler” and assists us in gaining insight the “situation of the enthronement from the reports of the historical books.” Hermann Gunkel, An Introduction to the Psalms. (Macon: Mercer University Press, 1998), 67.

[7] James Luther Mays, Psalms. Interpretation. (Louisville: John Knox Press, 1994), 350.

[8] Whatever else may be said, this psalm is closely connected with Psalm 2 and 2 Samuel 7, both of which elevate the military conquests of Yahweh’s king by Yahweh’s hand.

[9] As already noted, vs. 4 indicates that military success does not exhaust the kings job description, he also retains cultic functions. This sacerdotal efficaciousness “will assure the success and well-being of the people (v. 3),” Walter Brueggemann, Theology of the Old Testament. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1997), 606.

[10] Allen, 84.  The priest/king connections in this psalm do not really help at this point either. Verse 4 could indicate a post-exilic dating, but “if vs. 4 can be harmonized with the Davidic monarchy, the way is mainly open toward a pre-exilic setting.” The military references seem to indicate a pre-exilic setting, some have suggested Josiah. Whatever the case it seems the most likely suggestion is that the earliest form of this psalm is pre-exilic, though I am not convinced one could be too dogmatic in this assertion. .

Within recent weeks, when the world of Christendom has turned its attention to Christmas and the birth of the Messiah, my mind has turned towards Easter and the great event that is celebrated on that day, namely the resurrection. It began in looking into the New Perspective(s) on Paul over the summer and has culminated with viewing a lecture series by N.T. Wright on the book of Acts and a theological symposium held in 2006 at Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, MO. One theme that kept resurfacing in my reading, viewing, and listening has been the theme of the resurrection, not only Jesus’ resurrection but also the believers’ resurrection.

I read, for example, in Matthew the Son of David coming to Israel and Judah. He rarely interacts with Gentiles and even tells the Twelve, when he sends them out on mission to proclaim the gospel of the kingdom, to not go to the Gentiles and Samaritans but only to Israel. Yet at the resurrection Matthew paints a Jesus who says to not only to Israel but to all nations and make them his disciples. Just read the entire book of Acts. The message the early church proclaims is not a Messiah who was crucified for sins–though that is present–but a Messiah who was resurrected from the grave to fulfill God’s promises in the OT and now appointed as God’s judge. The early church proclaimed a resurrected Jesus to both the Jews and the Gentiles. That’s what sparked all the controversy in Acts for the church. And that is just two examples off the top of my head at 11:30 pm.

During this time of seeing how important a theme the resurrection is in the New Testament, in my corner of Christendom (Reformed Evangelical Protestant, SBC), I have noticed that the resurrection is often not discussed, if at all. When it comes up, it is in passing and no exposition is given upon the resurrection. Usually those who do often do so because of the discussion being about how the world is going to end and what happens when it does. The resurrection seems like it is just part of what happens at the last day.

On Easter, in my experience, when we are to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus I hear sermons and exposition on the even of Good Friday, namely the crucifixion. I think most notably of my pastor in KC, MO. He has got to be my favorite expositor of Scripture. The authority and compassion with which he speaks is captivating while at the same time his insight into the Scripture is both deep and complex yet also simple and clear. God has truly gifted this man with the gift of preaching. In his preaching, I have observed more and more that the resurrection has gone largely untouched while at the same time the cross of Jesus is clearly expounded and unpacked. The members of my church back in KC can clearly articulate a theology of the cross, one that is fairly balanced in the major theories of atonement (but most definitely it is a church that holds primarily to penal substitution). But, as simple observation, I’m not certain they can articulate a theology of the resurrection, both Jesus’ resurrection as well as the resurrection of humanity. Let me very fair to my pastor here. I spend Easter at home in Columbia with my family so I’m not in KC where a resurrection sermon is preached. Furthermore, my pastor spent about 18 months preaching in Hebrews where the death of Jesus is focused on, but the resurrection is not neglected only the death receives the most exposition by the letter. Now he is wrapping up a series on the prophet Malachi, a text that doesn’t display a lot of resurrection themes. I do keep this in mind.

When I listen to guys like R C Sproul, John McAurthur, and John Piper (to name a few off the top of my head), the same can be said to be true. There is a clear articulation in their preaching and teaching of a theology of the cross but not so much a theology of the resurrection. And usually when I do hear these pillars of my Christian faith speak of the resurrection, like on Easter, it is only to point back to the cross where at which point their clearly defined theology of the cross is articulated again.

So as I sit here in my bed–okay not my bed but the bed in my parents’ guest bedroom–I have a couple of questions. The first question has to be, what is a theology of the resurrection? What does the resurrection (both Jesus and the believer) mean and what are its implications on soteriology and ecclesiology and missiology and the sacraments etc.? In other words, what does Jesus’ resurrection mean in terms of the salvation of both the individual and the people of God? What impact does the resurrection have on our understanding of the sacraments (Lord’s “Dinner” and Baptism) and the church? What is the significance of the resurrection in the evangelism of the lost world? What does it do to our methodology and message? What does a theology of the resurrection look like and where does one start? What narratives are needed to articulate this theology? Evangelicalism is quick to move to the Yom Kippur, Day of Atonement, narrative in the Old Testament to articulate the meaning of the cross. What narrative is needed for the resurrection?

The other pressing matter in this observation is this, why is this theology of the resurrection missing (for a lack of a better term)? Why isn’t it being articulated clearly? Why aren’t we debating the meaning of the resurrection as much as we are debating the meaning of the atonement? I know one answer is that the cross is what is being challenged. But is that because the world accepts the resurrection that has been proclaimed, or has the world not heard the resurrection and therefore is not challenging its meaning? Again I can only speak of my own pocket of Christendom. May be someone who reads this post is in a pocket of Christendom where a theology of the resurrection is clearly articulated.

I don’t have answers to these questions and so I’m not asking to lead a discussion in a certain direction. I am honestly asking these questions and seeking honest answers to them. I would deeply appreciate feedback to them if you would like to provide some.

Total Pages: 3834

Total Pages Read: 3047

Total Reading Percentage: 79%

I actually did most of my reading this semester.  My TRP is hindered mostly by two source books which contain a great many more pages than were assigned.  The only book that I really skimped on was Redeeming the Routines.  I just did not have the time/gumption quotient high enough.

The majority of the books were excellent.  There were a some with whom I disagreed (looking at you, Moreland).  Sourcebooks will be sourcebooks.  Some were even from the Reformed side of things.

I’ll try, in the coming week, to give feedback on most of the works shown above and listed below.

1. Redeeming the Routines: Bringing Theology to Life by Robert Banks
2. Documents of the Christian Church by Henry Bettenson
3. To Know and Love God: Method for Theology (Foundations of Evangelical Theology) by David K. Clark
4. Character of Theology, The: An Introduction to Its Nature, Task, and Purpose by John Franke
5. The Story of Christianity, Volume 1: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation (Story of Christianity) by Justo L. Gonzalez
6. Beyond Foundationalism: Shaping Theology in a Postmodern Context by Stanley J. Grenz
7. Resident Aliens: Life in the Christian Colony by Stanley Hauerwas
8. History of the World Christian Movement: Earliest Christianity to 1453 by Dale T. Irvin
9. The Next Christendom: The Coming of Global Christianity by Philip Jenkins
10. Readings in Christian Thought by Hugh T. Kerr
11. Kingdom Triangle: Recover the Christian Mind, Renovate the Soul, Restore the Spirit’s Power by J. P. Moreland
12. Christians at the Border: Immigration, the Church, and the Bible by M. Daniel Carroll R.
13. Naming the Elephant: Worldview As a Concept by James W. Sire
14. Kingdom, Church, and World: Biblical Themes for Today by Howard A. Snyder
15. Models of the Kingdom by Howard A. Snyder
16. Kingdom Come: How Jesus Wants to Change the World by Allen Mitsuo Wakabayashi

One of the things about the Christmas narratives in Matthew and Luke that has always baffled me has been the fulfillment passages where Matthew will say that event X fulfills prophecy A. But when I read prophecy A in its OT context it doesn’t make any sense. What Matthew records as the fulfillment isn’t what is being promised by the prophet. Last Christmas I covered Matthew’s use of Hosea 11:1 (see Part 1 and Part 2). This Christmas I want to cover Matthew’s use of Jeremiah 31:15 in Matthew 2:18. continue reading…

 

Many Christian movements have sought to cut ties with perverted and corruptible human traditions and return to that glorious (and Godly) pristine primitive Christianity described in the New Testament.  However, we don’t live in first century Rome and we aren’t powerless and poor.  The questions we bring to the text are our own and not those of the first believing communities.  If we only reply on the “naked text” we will get only naked answers.  Lints suggests that

Having rejected the aid of the community of interpreters throughout the history of Christendom, we have not succeeded in returning to the primitive gospel; we have simply managed to plunge ourselves back to the biases of our own individual situations.

Lints, Fabric of Theology, 93

So, in essence, by rejecting the wisdom of our elders, we swim in a sea of theological subjectivism  Oh, the irony!

Perhaps we too are scared of what we might find find in the box!

In this wildly ambitious work, Moreland seeks to cure Christianity from the malaise that plagues – the death of drama; he is mostly successful, though not for the reasons he would give. Written for a popular audience, the Kingdom Triangle is divided into two sections; the first attempts to show us the “crisis of our age,” attacking Naturalism and Postmodernism as the destroyers of drama. The second part is more hopeful, and is Moreland’s attempt to construct a solution to the problem by means of three foci: knowledge, the soul and supernaturalism. With his insistence upon objectivity and reluctance to engage the best of Christian postmodern thought, readers risk being more entrenched against any other approach to knowledge and theology. However, the other parts of the work shine in comparison. When Moreland is attacking naturalism and working to instill drama he is much more effective. This combination of strengths and weaknesses make this book a minefield for the lay reader. There is much good to be had, but one can easily get the impression that all postmodern and emerging Christians are to just as feared and protected against as the Catholic Church.[1]

Drama for your mamma (and the rest of the Body of Christ)

The chief contribution of this work is Moreland’s drive to instill drama in our lives. Moreland’s use of drama is interesting and is the most important theme in the book. Moreland sets it up as the life full of meaning and purpose contrasting it with the drabness of everyday life. His awareness of the hunger for drama is startling and speaks to a need which likely resonates with much of his readership. Wise are the ways Moreland suggests Christians resurrect drama and acute are the causes he identifies for its crucifixion. He identifies the narcissism, individualism, passivity, and immaturity of the self that our popular culture produces;[2] and advocates the flourishing of the self, which includes the development of self-denial, character, and the spiritual disciplines.

Don’t, Stop, Manifesting the Spirit…

Perhaps the most controversial part of the book for the target audience is Moreland’s insistence that we recover the activity of the Spirit in our daily lives. He calls this “being naturally supernatural”[3] and attacks Cessationists. In great contrast to his dealings with Postmodernist Christians and Catholics, he advocates love and charity towards people on different places on the continuum of the Spirit’s activities.[4] This advice is much needed in the North American Church today. He primarily challenges Cessationists by appealing to personal stories and the numbers of Charismatics in the world. Oddly enough, Moreland does not use Scripture to challenge Cessationists. Given his high view of and condemnations by means of Scripture, one would have expected the same here. Ultimately, his wisdom, gentleness, and honesty are instructive in this section.

I refute him thus!

“I refute him thus!” was Samuel Johnson’s exclamation as he broke his foot upon a rock in an attempt to refute Berkley’s idealism.[5] It is also method of attack Moreland employs in his critiques of Naturalism and Postmodernity.[6] Moreland’s treatment of Postmodernism is the chief disappointment Kingdom Triangle. Moreland, the unapologetic modernist, [7] constructs the frailest version of postmodernism possible for the purposes of rendering asunder with the mighty blows of the three-sentence-proof. Moreland goes so far as to dismiss and critique of his characterization of postmodernism by saying: “For one thing, my description of postmodernism is an accurate account that fairly captures and understanding of postmodernism … [so] I can hardly be accused of offering a caricature of the movement.”[8] This rather grumpy, defensive, and dismissive tone is found throughout his discussion of Naturalism, Postmodernism, and Knowledge. Moreland unfortunately, for one of Evangelical Christianity’s most highly regarded philosophers, reduces all of postmodernity into a “synonym for deconstructive relativism.”[9] Too often Moreland attacks his constructed postmodernism[10] with simplistic proofs which bypass the real issues at hand. An excellent example of this is his discussion of objectivity and language.[11]

This seems like a rhetorical strategy to appeal to the value of common sense and anti-intellectualism of his intended audience. This, combined with a lack of real engagement of the best of Christina postmodern theory will hinder the intellectual development of his readers in the wake of Modernity’s decline. It reeks of entrenchment rather than engagement.

The Gentle Curmudgeon

One final criticism of Kingdom Triangle is the bipolar writing style that Moreland employs. When attacking Naturalism and Postmodernism and constructing a theory of knowledge, Moreland writes in a grouchy, dismissive, and immature tone. He repeatedly deems things “sad” and uses brute force to argue his claims (see his listing to all the verse in the Bible that contain the word knowledge).[12] This is contrasted with the genuine love and concern from which he writes his other chapters.

Conclusion

Ultimately this book is a mix of the best and worst from Moreland. Moreland argues for the best possible modernist/foundationalist Christianity, and attacks the worst postmodern secularism, which he ties to all Christian postmodern thought. However, With the exception of the chapter on Knowledge, Christians would be wise to heed his words concerning the resurrection of drama. I would modify Moreland’s argument (that Naturalism and Postmodernism have caused the death of drama) to the Church’s acceptance of Modernism and lack of a response to its death have caused and sustained the death of drama. It is a shame this was not a two-volume work.

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Notes:

[1] Moreland is deeply skeptical in this work about the orthodoxy of the Catholic Church , warning evangelical Christians to steer clear of their spiritual development classes (p.159).

[2] Moreland, Kingdom Triangle, 142-145.

[3] Ibid., 182.

[4] Ibid., 178-179.

[5] For more on this, see Dinesh D’Souza, What’s so great about Christianity (Regnery Publishing, 2007), 171.

[6] While Moreland and I agree on the perils of Naturalism, Moreland has a too narrow of a definition of postmodernism, see notes 12 and 13.

[7] See his infatuation with the self and objectivity, and unquestionable support of the correspondence theory of truth in Moreland, Kingdom Triangle, 78-88. and dismissal of critiques of modernity, such as the role of language creating worlds rather than nakedly describing them in Ibid., 85, 87.

[8] Ibid., 87.

[9] Franke, Character of Theology, The, 21.

[10] It is difficult to construct a positive definition of the varied modes of postmodernist theory. I follow Franke in maintaining that Postmodernism is best defined minimally as the critique of Modernity which requires “radical surgery.” See Ibid.

[11] Compare Moreland, Kingdom Triangle, 86. with Stanley J. Grenz, A Primer on Postmodernism (Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1996), sec. The Problem of Language.

[12] Moreland, Kingdom Triangle, 114-120. Moreland opts for the brute-force technique for arguing that our knowledge must be certain (by his criteria and his criteria only, which happens to be foundationalist in nature).

Yahweh has been acknowledged as the universal sovereign over all creation in verse 1-2, an unambiguously kingship oriented statement. Now, His title as “king” is officially announced. Again, His kingship cannot be separated from His having founded the world upon the sea. Creation and kingship belong together. Furthermore, the general setting in this final section belongs to the return of the Ark from war – the return of God’s presence to Jerusalem.

The final section begins with two imperatival statements, the first commanding the anthropomorphized gates to lift up their heads and the second commanding anthropomorphized ancient doors to be lifted up.[1] This call to lift up and be lifted up reminds the reader again of Yahweh’s mighty acts in creation by reflecting Baal’s words to other deities prior to defeating Yam, “Lift up your heads, O gods.”[2] Here, it is not pagan deities, but the gates and doors of the temple which respond to Yahweh’s return from battling the forces of chaos (vs. 2). The gates and doors are anthropomorphized so that they become persons who are capable of response to Yahweh’s approach, “courtiers awaiting the return of the Divine Warrior.”[3]  Their response is a repeated inquiry, “Who is He, this King of Glory?”

The answer to the question of the gates and doors is that zWZæ[i hw"hy> is the King of Glory. The identification of their deity with kingship is not uniquely Israelite. No, “the conception and designation of the deity as King are primitive Semitic practice, of which incontestable evidence is afforded by the large number of personal names compounded by melek going back to the most ancient period.”[4]

That said, the title “King of Glory” is entirely unique within the Old Testament, but we can be sure that, assuming an exilic composition, this title would have been quite subversive.[5] To proclaim Yahweh’s kingship in the midst of exile would be to call into question the claims of authority and sovereignty of mere earthly rulers, who themselves were viewed as deities. “As long as Yahweh is kin, his faithful followers can live under the human rulership of any number of foreign monarchs and still maintain their loyalty and allegiance to the one true king, Yahweh.”[6]

The answer to the question is the identity of Yahweh as the zWZæ[i hw"hy. The idea here is that Yahweh is a divine warrior who has, by virtue of his victories, maintained his kingship. The title “LORD of Hosts” is “the throne name of Israel’s God (Is. 6:5)…and refers to the hosts who surround the LORD’s heavenly throne and who praise and consult him and carry out his decisions as sovereign over the world.”[7] The name was associated with the Ark, which was identified as the throne of Yahweh, and which has been connected by the author to Yahweh’s activities in creation.  

CONCLUSION

I have demonstrated here that, though the kingship metaphor of Yahweh plays such an integral part of this psalm, it is subsumed under the idea of Yahweh as creator. The first two verses are particularized in both of the following sections and provides the foundation for His worship and His kingship. In the end, however, I do not intend to draw a sharp disconnect between the elements (even though the structure and flow of the psalm could arguably suggest such a disconnect). Rather, it is important to see the entirety of the psalm and its claims as a whole. Creation, holiness, and kingship are intimately tied together in this psalm. Each of them informs the other and demonstrates the universal sovereignty of Yahweh and His moral claims on the world.

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[1] Both of the words have the same root, which occurred earlier in verses 4 and 5.  The first of  afn in this verse 7 is a standard, active Qal, but the second is a passive Niphal. This seems to have no significance beyond poetic variation.

 

[2] Cragie, 214. The LXX is slightly different, calling for the princes to lift up their heads: a;rate pu,laj oi` a;rcontej u`mw/n.

[3] Richard J. Clifford, Psalms 1-72. (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2002), 136.

[4] Eichrodt, 194.

[5] Even in a pre-exilic setting, the title still relativizes all claims to power by any earthly ruler, especially Israelite ones, who were prone to think to highly of themselves and forget Yahweh.

[6] Wilson, 454.

[7] Mays, 123.

 The second section moves the passage from chaos and creation to morality[1] and immorality, thus establishing a connection between order and ethics.[2] It also serves as a movement from the larger setting of creation to particular sacred space and from the inhabitants of the earth to those who wish to approach Yahweh in worship.[3] It cannot be forgotten here that any conception of justice or morality derived from this psalm is connected with the ordered world of verse 1-2. This ordered world exists as such primarily because Yahweh has subdued the forces of chaos. Thus Torah obedience is intimately connected with creation theology.

Controlling this segment, primarily, is two questions, “Who may ascend to the hill of Yahweh?” and “Who may stand in His holy place?” Essentially, the questions stem from the first two verses; they desire to know the identity and characteristics of the creature who desires to be in the presence of the Creator. As the worshipers flock into the sacred space, the priests ask these questions to motivate repentant meditation.[4] They serve as a reminder of the otherness of the Creator and the following requirements serve as a reminder of the immorality of the creatures.

            The requirements[5] of these worshippers who wish to enter Yahweh’s presence are four-fold[6] and communicated in chiastic fashion:

A. Clean Hands (External)                                B. Pure Heart (Internal)

B. Does Not Lift Soul to an Idol (Internal)      A. Does Not Swear by What is False (External)

  The first requirement is clean hands. The Hebrew yqin” means “innocent,” a term often associated in the OT with possessing hands that are free from having shed innocent blood. No innocent blood cries up to Yahweh from the ground against this person.

            The second requirement is the internal compliment of the first: a pure heart. The one who approaches Yahweh must not only keep from outward sins, but he must also possess an internal character that is without flaw. His character must be rB; , reflecting the commandments of God (Ps. 19:9).

            The third element brings with it the first verb of verse 4, afn . afn is a Qal, Experiential Perfect, which carries with it the idea of a present state of mind.[7] Thus, at the time in which the worshiper desires to stand in Yahweh’s presence, he must not be in a state of idolatry. The translation “soul” (NIV) is insufficient. The idea of vp,n< is “self” and in the present context involves the idea of lifting up one’s very life and personhood to a afn,[8]  that is, offering one’s life and existence to the very gods (literally or figuratively) who have no claims of sovereignty (vs. 1-2), instead of the God who gives life and vp,n< (Ps. 25:1).[9]

            The final moral requirement moves back to an external action – swearing deceitfully (hm’(r>mil. [B;äv.nI), that is, having taken an oath upon himself which he had no intent to execute.[10] The term is quite easily attached to the previous requirement of lifting one’s being to an idol. Only here, the subject has created his situation by virtue of verbal falsity. The Stative Niphal of [B;äv.nI describes a state produced by means of the verbal action[11] – the subject speaks falsehood into existence.

            The person who meets these requirements will receive blessings from Yahweh. Instead of lifting (afn) his soul to an idol, this person will bear (afn) a blessing from God. The imperfect form of this verb (aF’äyI) indicates an enduring blessing and an enduring righteousness. The blessing and righteousness refer “to both the practice and consequence of participating in the worship of God in his place.” In other words, they are the ones worthy to ascend the hill of Yahweh and to stand in his holy place. They receive a public vindication (hq’d’c.)[12] of their character that originates in the will of the God of their salvation.[13]

            Two shifts occur within the final verse of this section. First, there is a shift from a singular person to a generation of those who seek Yahweh’s face. Second, there is a shift from the third to the second person, whereby the psalm becomes a speech addressed to Yahweh for just a line.

There are two different words for “seeking” employed here: vrd and vqb.[14] The second, a Frequentive Piel participle (yve’q.b;m.), pluralizes the action of the first verb and implies a repeated, busy action – the seeking of God’s face[15] is an intentionally active and repeated event. Interestingly, Yahweh, the one whose face is sought, is merely called “Jacob.” The LXX assists us at this juncture with tou/ qeou/ Iakwb.[16]

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[1] I choose “morality” intentionally here because the ideas of rB; and yqin” are not part of the purification texts of the OT, but are terms related to moral activity. Neither word appears in the context of purification rituals in Torah.

 

[2] “Human conduct that enacts justice is a counterpart to Yahweh’s own work of justice. For that reason, Israel’s worship life has an ethic of justice at its core and never imagines being in God’s presence except as those who have justice as their identifying agenda.” Walter Brueggemann, “Justice: The Earthly Form of God’s Holiness.” The Covenanted Self. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1999), 56.

[3] Kraus rightly notes that this movement starts with the distinctive event of the promise of the land and the occupying of it, in which Israel came to know Yahweh’s right to a possession of the land of Canaan. The expansion to universal dimensions in creation theology is possible only because of the particular history of Israel in its land, the land of Yahweh. Hans-Joachim Kraus, Theology of the Psalms. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1992), 62.

[4] Wilson identifies the congregation receiving the question as “exilic or post exilic pilgrims, reaching them end of their long journey through treacherous lands and over dangerous seas to arrive at this moment of communal worship with an international fellowship.” Wilson,  450. While this setting creates a strong connection between Yahweh’s defeat of the “natural” forces of chaos and the treacherous journey of these people through those forces, he may be reading too much into the actual evidence of the passage. If nothing else, the psalm indicates nothing in the way of journeying peoples or multi-national worship. This is not to say there is no pilgrimage aspect to the psalm, only that an international pilgrimage goes beyond the evidence within the text.

[5] Brueggemann notes here that when reading these moral requirements “it is important to recall that this spiritually reflects only the well-oriented community, on that has not yet addressed a theologically ambiguous or morally disruptive world.” Walter Brueggemann, The Message of the Psalms. (Minneapolis: Augsburg Publishing House, 1984), 42. Brilliant as Brueggemann is, I think his suggestion is unfounded. First, strict Torah obedience as a religious requirement need not be restricted to well-oriented communities. Indeed, sociologically speaking, communities in ambiguous contexts may very well draw such sharp lines. Second, the evidence of the psalm suggests that this is not a well-oriented community. It is a community that has first hand struggles with the forces of chaos (1-2) and lives in a time of warfare (7-10), which always raises ethical questions regarding religion and conduct.

[6] This four-fold list is a shortened form of what is found in Psalm 15. Peter C. Cragie, “The Word Biblical Commentary.” Vol. 19. Psalm 1-50. (Waco: Word Books, 1983), 213.

[7] Arnold & Choi, 55.

[8] afn literally means “emptiness/vanity.” Connected with the verbal idiom “raised mind,” the idea here “implies an attitude of adoration and worship.” Cragie, 213.

[9] I wondered, as I worked through this passage, if in the larger context of this Psalm, the connection between afn and vp,n< and creation is a reflection of Genesis 1, even though the exact same words are not employed.

[10] Cassiodorus, quoted in Thomas C. Oden, “Ancient Christian Commentary on Scripture.” Vol. VII. Psalms 1-50. (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 2008), 186.

[11] Arnold & Choi, 41.

[12] This is a legal term “that denotes a ruling by a judge regarding what should have occurred in a case under judgment…What one is declare saddiq, then one received sadaqah, a public acknowledgment of compliance with the expectations in the case.” Wilson, 452.

[13] Konrad Schaefer, Psalms. (Collegville: The Liturgical Press, 2001), 61.

[14] Kraus understands these two words to be associated with yearly pilgrimage to the sanctuary Hans-Joachim Kraus, Psalms 1-59. (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993), 314.

[15] That Yahweh’s face is sought communicates that those who live holy lives are also seeking holiness. The face of God is unambiguously a reference to His holiness in the OT. Thus, it is reinforced that the means to God’s holiness is holy living.

[16] A similar use occurs in Ps. 75:10, only there is ~yhil{a/ present. This provides us with precedence to follow the LXX here.