Obscene Speech in Paul I

Last weekend I attended the British New Testament Society Conference in Aberdeen. This is an annual meeting for people researching, teaching or studying the New Testament at university level.
There were a mixture of plenary sessions and seminars. Some of the papers, if I am honest, were a little on the obscure side! However, some were excellent including one by Dr Jeremy Hultin of Yale entitled ‘Watch Your Mouth: What the prohibitions of foul language tell us about Colossians and Ephesians’.

Colossians and Ephesians both have verses concerning language. However, there are interesting differences between the two letters. Below are some quick recollections from his talk. If you want to investigate further you could check out his book The Ethics of Obscene Speech in Early Christianity and its Environment. [Please note though that he is coming from a more critical position i.e. he does not hold that Paul wrote Colossians or Ephesians and would not hold to an evangelical view of Scripture].

Colossians 3:8 But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. […] 4:6 Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.

Hultin made some interesting points here. He argued that the word translated by the ESV as ‘obscene talk’ (aischrologian) does not have any kind of sexual reference (as many swear words in English have) but should be understood as abusive, unkind speech. Secondly, he argued that the references in 4:6 to grace and salt would have been understood by first century readers as a reference to charming (the reference to grace) and witty (the reference to salt) speech. ‘Salt’, Hultin shows, is often used in 1st C texts as a synonym for ‘humour’ or wit.

Ephesians 5:3-4 But sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints. 4 Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving.

The word translated ‘crude joking’ in the ESV (eutrapelia) is often rendered in this negative way by English Bibles. However, Hultin argues (convincingly) that this word would actually have been understood positively in the first century. So, doctors were urged to speak in this way to their patients to make them feel at ease; similarly lawyers with their clients and generals with their troops. Hultin argues that the word should be rendered ‘wit’. It is an ease of speech that was neutral or positive.

Now, there are two issues here:
i. If Hultin is right, why would the author of Ephesians [i.e. Paul!] have forbidden something that was universally have been understood positively?
ii. Does this not create a contradiction between Colossians and Ephesians - with one commending witty speech and one condemning it?

I think there are good answers to both and will post on them shortly.

Review - He Who Gives Life

I've just finished reading Graham Cole's book on the Holy Spirit - He Who Gives Life. As I've found with most of the volumes in the Foundations of Evangelical Theology series, it's a text book, which is a clear and biblical articulation of the doctrine under consideration. He initiates his thoughts by setting forth his methodology, drawing attention to the primary importance of Scripture and the supporting voices of church history, all the while clearly identifying and giving weight to the rich variety of Scripture in terms of genre and locale in salvation history - Cole's concern is that we read the Bible to come to an understanding of the Holy Spirit. That said, Cole is quite happy to draw theological opinions (theologoumena) from the text, recognising that there is a difference between what we must and might believe.

Starting with the mystery of the Holy Spirit, and the importance of allowing God to be who He is, Cole traces some of the major themes in church history as to the person and work of the Spirit - the Spirit as the bond of love (Augustine), Spirit as the perfecting cause (Basil of Caesarea) and the idea that love requires a third Person (Richard of St Victor). He also engages with the filioque debate, drawing clear and contemporary application from the subject, without exhausting the reader.

The second and third parts of the work deal with the Spirit in the Old and New Testaments respectively. The ground Cole covers here is too vast to even survey, but is all ground worth walking. His articulation of the work of the Spirit in the life of Christ, and the way he addresses these issues through the key events in Christ's life was refreshing to read, as was his careful and methodologically appropriate handling of the event in Acts.

The work of the Spirit in the church and in the believer omitted some material, on the grounds that it had been covered in other volumes in the series (namely Demarest's The Cross and Salvation), and while it is disappointing to not have some of these topics addressed in a work on the Spirit, it was an understandable choice.

What was particularly refreshing throughout the work was the way Cole was quite happy to walk a path between what he deems evangelical rationalism and evangelical mysticism. He's quite happy to speak of the mystery of the Spirit - and indeed his appropriate epistemic humility (not wanting to claim certainty where the Bible doesn't give it) was refreshing, particularly on the issue of the extent to which the Trinity can be used as a 'solution' or 'answer' to particular ecclesial issues. This epistemic humility, however, doesn't stop him from engaging with the implications for belief and practice - a regular section included at the end of each chapter in the work, nor from drawing theological opinions on the basis of the biblical date.

There is no doubt that he covers a vast breath of topics, grounding his position biblically, theologically and historically. Of course I came away with as many questions as answers, but the overall experience of engaging with Cole on this subject matter was one I thoroughly enjoyed. While a more robust and sustained engagement with some of the pop-theology which exists in many churches around the person and work of the Spirit would have been helpful (particularly for evangelicals in non-evangelical contexts), Cole gives the framework, surveys the data, and sets the direction for Christians to be able to make those engagements. It's a very good book, and I don't hesitate to doubt J I Packer's endorsement that it is 'the widest-ranging textbook on pneumatology that currently exits.' A valuable resource for anyone seeking to understand, relate to, and serve our Triune God.

Australian 'theology'

Brilliant. I know it's geek humour, but it's still brilliant.
ht con campbell

The Body of Christ

One of the things that I have been looking at for my PhD is the question of whether - according to Paul - Christ currently has an independent physical body. Philippians 3:21 and 1 Corinthians 15 seem to make it clear but interestingly a number of people argue that the church (and/or the bread in the Lord's Supper) is the only physical body that Christ possesses.

So Graham Ward in an essay on the Body of Christ in the volume Radical Orthodoxy contends that

The body of Jesus Christ is not lost, nor does it reside now in heaven as a discrete object[…]. The body of Jesus Christ, the body of God, is permeable, transcorporeal, transpositional. We have no access to the body of the gendered Jew […] because the Church is now the body of Christ, so to understand the body of Jesus we can only examine what the Church is and what it has to say concerning the nature of that body. […] God in Christ dies and the Church is born. One gives way to the other, without remainder.

Similarly, Robert Jenson in his Systematic Theology notes that ‘in a Copernican universe [there] is no plausible accommodation for the risen Christ’s body’. However, if ‘there is no place for Jesus’ risen body, how is it a body at all’? Jenson concludes that although

Paul clearly thinks of the Lord as in some sense visibly located in heaven spatially related to the rest of creation, the only body of Christ to which Paul ever actually refers is not an entity in this heaven but the Eucharist’s loaf and cup and the church assembled around them.



I think that as well as the verses I mentioned above, that there are strong theological reasons for insisting that Christ continues to exist as a human being which means that he has his own, independent human body. Hopefully, in due course I will post on it...(but given my posting record I wouldn't hold your breath!).

Someone's made it

It's not necessarily a big deal on the world-wide stage of biblical and theological scholarship, but Pete, co-author of But Now has recently had a review published in Themelios. It's the first thing either of us have had published (unless Pete's been working under a pseudonym), and if we were betting men I'd probably owe him a bottle of something. You can read it here. Personally I agree with his review of the book - it's an excellently balanced critique of Barth which as Pete notes, presents a 'robust and fair interaction with Barth'. And I can guarantee it's the first review you've read in a long time which contains the word 'prophylactic'. Congratulations Pete - we look forward to many more!

Christ and Nothing

A friend recently introduced me to the writing of David Bentley Hart. He is (according to Wiki) an 'Eastern Orthodox theologian, philosopher, writer, and cultural commentator'. As an evangelical Protestant there are obviosuly many things that we would not agree on, but having read a few of his articles I have found them profoundly penetrating in their analysis of culture and world-view. Try this one for starters. Here is the intro:

As modern men and women — to the degree that we are modern — we believe in nothing. This is not to say, I hasten to add, that we do not believe in anything; I mean, rather, that we hold an unshakable, if often unconscious, faith in the nothing, or in nothingness as such. It is this in which we place our trust, upon which we venture our souls, and onto which we project the values by which we measure the meaningfulness of our lives. Or, to phrase the matter more simply and starkly, our religion is one of very comfortable nihilism.

Uploading the Old Testament

To be perfectly honest my sermons don't usually contain a lot of illustrations. This is due to my inability to think of appropriate illustrations rather than for any theological or homiletical reason. And when I do think up illustrations, they often aren't that good.

Except on Sunday. On Sunday I did alright. In fact, I was so happy with it I'm going to use it again this Sunday.

Sunday last we were looking at Jesus walking on water in Mark 6. In the text the disciples look at the information provided to them - Jesus walking on water in the middle of the lake in the middle of a gale in the middle of the night - and they make an assessment of who he is - he's a ghost (6:49). Mark however writes his account in such a way as to provide us with more information - he walks on water (cf Job 9:8-11) he goes to pass the disciples by (cf Ex 33:21); he declares his name (cf Ex 3:14) - and we should make an assessment of who he is. But we can only make that assessment if we understand the information - if we see what is happening in front of us.

And here's the illustration. Chuck is a programme on here in NZ on Wednesday evenings. Chuck is an unwilling secret agent - he's had the Intersect - a top secret database containing details of all major threats to the government - accidentally uploaded into his brain. What that means is that when he sees a person, a building, hears a voice or views a code which is in the Intersect he 'flashes' - all the information about the item he's seen comes flooding into his head. It allows him to understand what is in front of him.

In exactly the same way when we read Mark 6 (and indeed all of the New Testament) we should 'flash' - the information stored in our heads about the Old Testament about the types and promises of Christ, about God's overarching plan of salvation, should come flooding into our heads, that we might understand what is happening in front of of us. And yet of course the problem for many Christians is that we don't know our Old Testaments. We don't read it. We don't preach on it. We find it difficult to understand and apply and so we just abandon it. And so it isn't in our heads. We have no information upon which to 'flash'. And of course that means that when we read the New Testament - when we're confronted with the person of Jesus and God's action in and through him - it is impossible to really understand what is happening. And the danger is that we make the same mistake the disciples did - we identify, and therefore respond to, Jesus wrongly.

And in case you're wondering, I'm going to use the Chuck illustration again this week because we're starting a four week series on why and how we should read the Old Testament. Nothing like putting your money where your mouth is.

Influential books - Number 2

I'm going to cheat a little with this one, because it isn't so much a book as an article in a book. The book is B.B. Warfield's The Inspiration and Authority of the Bible and while I've found most of the articles in the book helpful, it was particularly 'The biblical idea of Inspiration' which influenced me. The article was originally titled 'Inspiration' and written for the International Standard Bible Encyclopedia, and can be found in full here.

When I first read this I had no idea of the polemical context into which Warfield wrote, nor of the general state of liberal scholarship which Warfield deals with. At that level I read him very simply - and he still rewards reading in such a way. His concern is to show the nature of the Scriptures as breathed out by God, and does this first of all by the careful exegesis of 2 Timothy 3:16, 2 Peter 1:19-21 and John 10:34f, and concludes with the authoritative nature of Scripture, because of the nature of its author - 'What Scripture says, God says...'.

He goes on to posit an incredibly close relationship between God and Scripture, grounding it upon the fact that the NT is happy to assign to 'Scripture' what was actually said by God (e.g., Rom 9:17), and therefore to argue that what Scriptures says is what God says (not said).

However, Warfield then goes on to address the human nature of Scripture, and the reality of human authorship, all the while wanting to grasp a more organic, more intimate event than what is conveyed by the term 'dictation'. Here we return to the concept of the spiration of Scripture - the divine breathing out, through the totality of human agency, the very words of God.

Warfield spends some pages stressing God's total control in providence over the entirety of a person's life, so that what they (for example, Paul) write is exactly what God intends for them to write. Given this, Warfield goes one step further, grounding inspiration as a mode of revelation. Not just a record of revelatory acts, but as an act of redemptive revelation in and of itself.

As I noted earlier, I didn't understand all this when I first read it. And, to be fair, having skimmed the article to write this, I think there's a fair bit in there that I would want to spend some more time thinking about. But what did influence me particularly was the way in which I came away from reading the article realising that I could have confidence in the Bible, because to do so was really to have confidence in God. Not in the sense that I ascribed divine personality to the Scriptures themselves, but because through them I hear the voice of a loving and speaking and acting God. I could take confidence in what I read.

This was vitally important to me because when I first read this I had not long left a church which had implicitly (and at times explicitly) told me that I couldn't have confidence in the Bible. That it wasn't 'real' in the sense that it didn't all happen like it was written. And even I could see that if that was the case with certain miracles (which was the presenting issue), where did you stop? The virgin birth? The resurrection? My sinfulness? The cross? The reality of Jesus? My eternal salvation?

Warfield showed me that God told me I could trust the Bible. I could trust it because it was his word, and because it was his word, not only could I trust it, I must.

Influential books - Number 1

Having been tagged (or whatever) by Ouldy, as well as having been given a standard to live up to, I thought that I’d take up the challenge. Here it is:

"Name the five books (or scholars) that had the most immediate and lasting influence on how you read the Bible. Note that these need not be your five favorite books, or even the five with which you most strongly agree. Instead, I want to know what five books have permanently changed the way you think. Then tag five others."

I’m sure Pete will add to the list (given that all he gets to do nowadays is read!), but for mine, the following are probably the most influential. Given the influence that some of these books have had on me, I’ll post on a separate on each day. Oh, and we'll tag at the end of the series.

Bruce Ware God’s Greater Glory (Crossway, 2004)

I read this book in 2005 while at Moore College. I think like lots of the things you read when studying, you expect to learn from it, but not necessarily be deeply affected by it. And yet Ware’s style, because it is thoroughly expositional, won’t allow that. And I was deeply affected by it, because in God’s providential care, he brought me to read this work at just the right time. But more of that later.

The work is on the doctrine of providence, about God’s sovereign control, governance and preservation of creation. It addresses issues of transcendence and immanence, of human ‘freedom’ and ways of understanding it biblically and philosophically, of good and evil, of divine immutability and the temporality of the Word incarnate. And while this list appears heavy (and it is – although Ware addresses these issues with depth and clarity), there is a constant leitmotif of application to the Christian life. The problems with libertarian freedom, for example, are not only articulated in a philosophical sense – they are demonstrated in the gritty reality of life.

The second half of the book turns to the more immediately practical – what does it mean to live the Christian life before the face of this providential God. In one sense, this is the imperative to the first half of the book’s indicative. How we exist before God in the face of suffering, the asymmetrical nature of the relationship between the divine and his creation, the nature and purpose of prayer, and the true grounds and purpose of service are all addressed in a gentle, practical and loving way. The book concludes with a chapter reflecting on the inconsistency of open theism and the providential nature of God as articulated in the preceding chapters.

And yet the book was influential for me not only because it set out the glorious truths of Scripture clearly, nor because of the way it undertook the process of theology – setting out boundary markers and spectrum texts and working only within these – allowing the secret things of God to be the secret things. The book affected me because in the weeks after I read it my wife Amanda gave birth prematurely to our second son, Theodore. Theo was born at 27 weeks (compared to a normal 40 week pregnancy), and he weighted 632 grams (1 pound 6 if you’re old school). His life was in constant danger in those first few days, and the next few months while he was in hospital were ridiculously hard on us as a family.

Since then I’ve been asked plenty of times whether my faith in God was shaken, whether I asked ‘why’, or whether I was angry at God. It wasn’t, I didn’t, and I wasn’t. You see serious, biblical, thoughtful theology had prepared me. Was I worried? Of course! Did I pray? Constantly. And yet God had prepared me, through the words of Scripture, unpacked and articulated by Bruce Ware, to trust in His glorious, sovereign, providential care. God had got me ready to trust in Him and his goodness in the face of fear and worry, the likes of which I had never known before. I had been brought to a place to see and grasp God’s greater glory, to know my place as a creature – beloved and saved in Christ Jesus, yes – but a creature nonetheless, and to know the God was God and will always be God, and that he is and always will be good.

I’m thankful that Theo has survived, and is a healthy, cheeky three year old. And I'm thankful for the way my life and ministry has been formed by that. And I am incredibly thankful for the way in which God brought Theo into the world, because through that, and through this book, I was brought to know and grasp more fully God’s sovereign providence. For that I will be forever thankful, for to spend life and eternity without this God – to not be known by him, and saved by his Son, and freed to serve him – is no life at all.

What is preaching?

Justice Potter Stewart famously said of pornography: 'I can't define it, but I know it when I see it.' Often we can feel the same about preaching. It's difficult to define what makes preaching, or certainly what makes 'good' preaching, but we know it when we see or hear it. Or as Lloyd-Jones says:

Preaching is [...] difficult to define. [...] Preaching is something that one recognises when one hears it. So the best we can do is say certain things about it...

Preaching and Preachers p. 81.

And those certain things are:

• It involves the whole of the preacher
• It has a sense of authority and control over the congregation and the proceedings
• It contains an element of freedom (on the part of the preacher)
• The preacher derives something from the congregation (in that he observes and feeds off and responds to the congregation)
• It is serious
• It is zealous
• It is warm
• It is urgent
• It is persuasive
• It is powerful

How does your preaching stack up to this? Would Lloyd-Jones calls what he hears in your church on Sunday preaching? Are there other things that you would want to say about what makes preaching?

But let's allow the great man the last word:

What is preaching? Logic on fire! Eloquent reason! [...] It is theology on fire. And a theology which does not take fire, I maintain, is a defective theology, or at least the man's understanding of it is defective. Preaching is theology come through a man who is on fire. A true understanding and experience of the Truth must lead to this. I say again that a man who can speak about these things dispassionately has no right whatsoever to be in a pulpit; and should never be allowed to enter one. What is the chief end of preaching? I like to think it is this. It is to give men and women a sense of God and His presence.

Preaching and Preachers, p. 97.

Preaching in Church

A friend of mine at College did some serious thinking about the place of virtual church - 'attending' church on-line. It seemed a somewhat ethereal issue at the time, but not any more. Churches have sprung up in Second Life, and the increase in podcasts of sermons is unending (one wonders if this is the new measure of success as a preaching - not church size, but number of downloads).

Obviously Lloyd-Jones didn't stream his sermons, and in Preaching and Preachers he doesn't comment on the pros and cons of multi-campus, live-streamed video links. But he does deal with the 1970s equivalent under the objection to preaching that people would be better to stay at home, read journals and published sermons, or listen to preachers on the radio. Listen to Lloyd-Jones' answer:

Another thing, which I find very difficult to put into words, but which to me is most important is that the man himself [who listens to a sermon on the radio or reads printed sermons] is too much in control. What I mean is that if you do not agree with the book you can put it down, if you do not like what you are hearing on the television you can switch it off. You are an isolated individual and you are in control of the situation. Or, to put it more positively, that whole approach lacks the vital element of Church. Now the Church is a missionary body, and we must recapture this notion that the whole Church is a part of this witness to the Gospel and its truth and message. It is therefore most important that people should come together and listen in companies in the realm of the Church. That has an impact in and of itself. [...] The preacher after all is not speaking for himself, he is speaking for the Church, he is explaining what the Church is and what these people are, and why they are what they are.

Preaching and Preachers, p.42

His point is that the church itself is part of the preaching event. They are the people of God formed by, constituted by, the Word of God. They are under His authority. And by their very existence they testify to the veracity of this word. This word is truth - here, look around, see this truth in action, in reconciled relationships, in forgiveness, in love, in Jew and Gentile sharing a meal.

To hear a sermon is not only an intellectual exercise. It it to submit to God's authority revealed in the Scriptures, mediated by the Spirit, in and by the company of God's people.

Pastoral Preaching

Lloyd-Jones' task in his book Preaching and Preachers is to show the primacy of preaching - to show that it is the church's primary task. Early on in the book he justifies this in light of attacks on preaching, and particularly the place of 'personal counselling' as being the minister's primary task rather than preaching. Such counselling has its place - yes. But it is to supplement, not supplant the preaching.

Many of us would agree with this, but I wonder if we actually tie the two together as strongly as we might? I think we often say that the word is being preached, and the word is being used pastorally, and leave it at that. I wonder if we could do more. I wonder if in our pastoral visiting and care, whether we would do well to use the sermon as the launching point. To use what was declared in the power of the Spirit as the place where we start our pastoral care. Not just 'what did you think of the sermon?', but 'Sunday's sermon dealt with the issue of X. Tell me about this in your Christian life.' To do so would be hard work - if like me you're on your own in a church (i.e., the preacher is doing most of the pastoral work) it can feel a little arrogant - but it would be saying that what happens on a Sunday is not just a take-it-or-leave-it event. It is God's word being declared to God's people, and should therefore have an effect on their lives. And our job as curer of souls is to see that effect worked out.