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Archives For November 2008

Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Trinity: Ruth 3

November 21, 2008 — Leave a comment

Introduction
We’ve been introduced to the mighty man, Boaz, the redeemer of Naomi and Ruth, and now we see more of Ruth and her might.

The Levirate Law
The salvation that Boaz brings to Elimelech’s family is based upon a specific provision in the Old Testament law called the “levirate law.” This provided for a family of brothers where one had died and left no heir. The episode of Judah and Tamar is an early example of this principle (Gen. 38:1-30). Later it is codified under Moses (Dt. 25:5-10). This action is for the preservation of the “name” of the dead brother, but the overarching point of the actions of Boaz is to “redeem” the family of Elimelech.

Covenant Kindness, Might, and Commitment
Notice that Ruth is called the daughter of Naomi and Boaz (3:1, cf. 2:2, 2:8, 2:22, 3:10, 11, 16, 18). The narrative suggests that Boaz is in the process of becoming Naomi’s husband, but this is also more broadly what it means to be part of the covenant people of God. The episode pays particular attention to the “feet” of Boaz (3:4, 7, 8, 14). Uncovering the feet of Boaz can have sexual overtones, but the point is a symbolic action of submission and marriage. Ruth asks Boaz for the very thing that Boaz has already noted about her. She asks him to take her under his wing (3:9, cf. 2:12). Ruth sees the close connection between covenant with God and her family. Boaz is impressed and says, “You have done better in your lovingkindness at the end than at the beginning” (3:10). It’s good to remember that Boaz was probably literally old enough to be her father, and therefore he praises her for her wisdom in not going after some younger fellow (3:10). A woman of wisdom is a KHAYIL woman (Pr. 12:4, 31:10, 31:29), and Boaz says that the “whole gate of the city” knows that Ruth is a KHAYIL woman. Previously, it was noted that this commonly refers to mighty warriors, and frequently, this word is also used to describe the army of some nation (e.g. Ex. 14, Jer. 35:11, Ez. 37:10, etc.), and this is why Ruth is better than seven sons (4:15). One use of this word in other contexts is a description of a woman in labor (Ps. 48:7, Jer. 50:43, Mic. 4:9). Ruth’s covenant oath to Naomi included the promise that where “you lodge, I will lodge…” (1:16). In the interview with Boaz, he instructs her to “lodge” with him (3:13). This is revealing in both directions: this is confirmation of the marriage-like commitment that Ruth was entering in her oath to Naomi as well as the covenant-like request that Ruth is making of Boaz.

Who are you, Israel?
This is the fifth time we’ve had a question of identification: 1:19 (Naomi), 2:5 (Ruth), 2:19 (Boaz), 3:9 (Ruth), and 3:16 (Ruth). Of those five, there are three that are specifically “who?” questions, and they all refer to Ruth (2:5, 3:9, 3:16), progressively revealing Ruth’s character. And this question applies more broadly to Israel as a whole. We already noted that Ruth is being filled by Boaz, and this filling is a reversal of Naomi’s emptiness. This becomes explicit when Ruth comes home to Naomi with barley because Boaz insists that she not return to Naomi “empty” (3:17). Naomi is being filled by Boaz through Ruth. Israel is a nation who will be blessed by their Redeemer through outsiders. Naomi says to wait until Ruth knows what will happen because Boaz will not rest until this proposal has been settled. This word for “rest” is the same used in Joshua and Judges to describe the “land having rest from war” during and after the conquest (Josh. 11:23, 14:15, Jdg. 3:11, 3:30, 5:31, 8:28, etc.). Boaz is acting like a judge to bring rest to the land of Israel through the care of Ruth and Naomi. Throughout the narrative Boaz is referred to as the “man” and Ruth is referred to as the “woman,” and this language suggests that Boaz and Ruth are a new Adam and Eve. Notice that this man, like Adam, goes to sleep and wakes up to find a woman.

Conclusions & Applications
This is a new creation story: the story goes from darkness to light, from death to life, from striving to Sabbath, from barrenness to the birth of a son, and in the center of the story is this reversal story. Ruth the Moabitess is a reversal of Noah’s sons (Gen. 9:20-24), a reversal of Lot’s daughters (Gen. 19:30-38), a more righteous Tamar (Gen. 38), a reversal of the Moabite harlotry (Num. 25:1ff), and in every story there is some sort of Adam made vulnerable in a scandalous situation. And Boaz and Ruth could easily be seen as scandalous, but this all points again to God the Redeemer who became a vulnerable Adam on a scandalous cross and gave a son to another “Mara” (Jn. 19:26). And this is the KHAYIL of God, the power of the cross, and the promise of the gospel that will overrun this world and set all to right.

And we are called to cultivate this excellence in our lives. One of the things that is obvious is how bold and courageous Ruth and Boaz are. They take chances, and they are fearless. Be fearless in uncovering sin: it is scandalous to point out sin or confront sin, and it’s embarrassing to confess it, but you are the army of God. Be fearless in facing hardship and danger: commit yourself to the care of your God, plead with him in prayer, and then worship him with thanksgiving. Be fearless as you face the world: God is saving this world through bringing prostitutes and Moabites into the kingdom. There’s something in the Trinity that loves the scandal of bringing worlds out of nothing, light out of darkness, life out of death. And we are called to follow in this and glory in it.

In Bible - Ruth, Sermon Outlines

A Sketchy Introduction to Karl Barth (1886-1968) and His Christological Aims

November 21, 2008 — 2 Comments

Note: These are notes for a presentation I gave for the New St. Andrew’s College graduate program this week.

Pope Pius II called Barth the greatest theologian since Thomas Aquinas. He was invited to attend Vatican II, and he is widely considered to be one of the most significant contributors to the modern theological world. He wrote on a wide area of subjects, was politically involved during the rise of Hitler and the Third Reich. He grew up and studied theology in the milieu of German Nationalism and the modern liberal push in German theology. His break with liberalism with the publishing of his commentary on Romans in 1918 is widely hailed as one of the most significant developments in the theology in the 20th Century. He is loved, hated, denounced, praised, but footnoted prolifically throughout the landscape of modern theology.

Barth’s Christology

In Barth’s theology “there is no Christology as such; on the other hand, it is all Christology.” (Thompson, 1)

“There are, strictly speaking, no Christian themes independent of Christology” (CD II.1).

Speaking of the Apostles’ Creed, we writes, “We could not possibly have given a genuine exposition of the first article without continually interpreting it by means of the second. Indeed, the second article does not just follow the first, nor does it just precede the third; but it is the fount of light by which the other two are lit.” (DO, 65)

“And as for what is involved in the relationship between creation and the reality of existence on the one hand, and on the other hand the Church, redemption, God – that can never be understood from any general truth about our existence, nor from the reality of history of religion; this we can only learn from the relation between Jesus and Christ… That is why Article II, why Christology, is the touchstone of all knowledge of God in the Christian sense, the touchstone of all theology. ‘Tell me how it stands with your Christology, and I shall tell you who you are.’” (DO, 66)

Possible Objections/Criticisms:

Colin Brown suggests that making Jesus Christ the complete center of everything can actually slide into a certain abstraction problem. Jesus Christ ends up functioning as a “Christ-principle.” (Thompson, 5) Whether Barth is susceptible to this criticism or not, he is clearly at war with this sort of thing throughout his writings. H. Volk suggests something similar to Brown. He says that in Barth “Christology is so much a principle (Prinzip) that there is the danger of systematizing over a wide field… the danger of the use of a principle in a forced way is not far distant. For even in Christian theology Christology can be sued as a principle in such a powerful way that it results in a narrowing of the theological basis and contents.” (cited in Thompson, 6)

This criticism has sometimes been called “Christomonism.” The concern was that an overemphasis on the redemptive work of Christ ignored important doctrines such as creation or the work of the Holy Spirit, etc. Barth answered this question directly in an interview:

“In what specific way, Professor Barth, does your theology avoid being Christomonistic?”

Answer: “Sound theology cannot be either dualistic or monistic. The Gospel defies all isms,’ including dualism and monism. Sound theology can only be ‘unionistic,’ uniting God and man. Christomonism (that’s an awful catchword!) was invented by an old friend of mine whose name I will not mention. Christomonism would mean that Christ alone is real and that all other men are only apparently real. But that would be in contradiction with what the name of Jesus-Christ means, namely, union between God and man. This union between God and man has not been made only in Jesus Christ but in him as our representative for the benefit of all men. Jesus Christ as God’s servant is true God and true man, but at the same time also our servant and the servant of all men. Christomonism is excluded by the very meaning and goal of God’s and man’s union in Jesus Christ.” (http://theologytoday.ptsem.edu/jul1962/v19-2-article2.htm, accessed 11.18.08)

Robert Letham, while generally appreciative of Barth’s work, concedes that “his vigorous christocentrism is certainly exaggerated, almost to a point of a christomonism. While his overall theology is strongly Trinitarian, he hardly did justice to the consistent emphasis in the New Testament that it is God who chose us and the election is particularly a work of the Father (e.g. Eph. 1:4)” (Letham 54)

But for Barth, Creation, Revelation, Trinity, soteriology, and everything else are summed up in the person of Christ, and therefore all truth is found in and through the living Christ (e.g. Rom. 11:36, Eph. 1:10, Col. 1:20).

One of the ways Barth sought to guard against the Christ-principle and/or christomonistic criticisms was by pushing much of his theology in more dynamic directions. The “being in becoming” language is this movement. Christ as event is another instance of the same, and this comes out in Barth’s discussion of the person and work of Christ.

Person and Work:
“What is needed in this matter is nothing more or less than the removal of the distinction between the two basic sections of classical Christology, or positively, the restoration of the hyphen which always connects them and makes them one in the New Testament. Not to the detriment of either the one or the other… Not to cause the doctrine of the person of Christ to be absorbed or dissolved in that of his work, or vice versa. But to give a proper place to them both.” (IV.1)

“[T]his person does not exist apart from this office, nor this office apart from this person.” (DO, 73)

Barth gets at this connection between person and work when he insists that the “he suffered” of the creed includes the entire earthly life of Jesus from birth to the cross. And this makes more sense as we consider the kind of reception the Creator of the world enjoyed. (DO, 102)

If Christ is the center of Barth’s theology, the cross and resurrection are the center of Christology.

The person of Christ is not first to be established and then his work. Rather, for Barth it is actually the event of the cross that establishes both the who and the what. In particular the doctrine of the two natures of Christ is fundamentally built upon the act of reconciliation and not the other way around. The doctrine of the incarnation is built upon the doctrine of reconciliation. And this seems consistent with the concerns of the early church fathers.

Another way to say this is that what is begun at Christmas is completed at Easter. There is movement in the incarnation. What is established in principle in the Jesus conceived by Mary is moving towards a conclusion. The incarnation is completed in some sense in the cross and resurrection. “[I]ncarnation and atonement enclose, embrace, and interpret each other and are really one though distinguishable” (Thompson, 14).

Another aspect of this discussion is the great lengths which Barth goes through to insist upon the “God-ness” of Christ. Christ is the center of his theology because he is utterly convinced that when we consider Christ, we are dealing with the Triune God. And there are numerous implications for thinking and discussing along these lines.

This means that the incarnation should not be seen as something fundamentally different from the way God is as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Barth emphasizes this in particular with regard to the roles of the Father, Son, and Spirit. The Son as the one who obeys and submits enacts this reality in the incarnation according to the will of the Father, in the power of the Spirit. (See McCormack on Barth and Kenosis, cf. Phil. 2) More on this below.

Thus Barth insists: “There is no greater depth in God’s being and work than that revealed in these happenings and under this name” (CD II/2, 54). There is not a hidden “remainder” in God that is not revealed or disclosed in the person and work of Jesus Christ.

“Who God is and what it is to be divine is something we have to learn where God has revealed himself and his nature, the essence of the divine. And if he has revealed himself in Jesus Christ as the God who does this, it is not for us to be wiser then he and to say that it is in contradiction with the divine essence. We have to be ready to be taught by him that we have been too small and perverted in our thinking about him within the framework of a false idea of God.” We need to “reconstitute” our notions of God “in the light of the fact that he does this [i.e. incarnation].” (CD IV/1, 186)

The cross is not merely a symbolic center reflecting the “limit of human existence.” The death of Jesus is not merely another story about the martyrdom of a religious founder. The story of the cross is the “concrete deed and action of God Himself. God changes himself, God himself comes most near, God thinks it not robbery to be divine, that is, He does not hold on to the booty like a robber, but God parts with Himself. Such is the glory of His Godhead, that He can be “selfless,’ that he can actually forgive Himself something.” (DO, 116) This ability to be selfless, to forgive, to part with Himself is what Barth calls the freedom of God.

Barth insists that our definition, our description of God must be built upon the centrality of the incarnation and not something in tension with it. The incarnation is not an afterthought or something particularly different that God does. “Far from being against himself, or at disunity with himself, he has put into effect the freedom of his divine love, the love, in which he is divinely free. He has therefore done and revealed that which corresponds to his divine nature.” (CD IV/1, 186)

And this means that his attributes must be described and illustrated around the incarnation and not with the incarnation become the list of exceptions to the otherwise neat and tidy categories of deity. God’s immutability must not be understood to be at odds with the incarnation. Rather, the incarnation is itself an expression of God’s changeless love and freedom toward his creation, to take both the form of glory and the form of humility, the form of God and the form of a servant. (CD IV/1, 186)

Likewise, God’s omnipresence is seen in the way God dwells in Christ, descends into the lowest parts of the earth, and ascends into heaven. His omnipotence is displayed in the fact that God displays his power even in weakness. His eternity is revealed the fact that he can enter time and remain eternal. And so on.

Reconciliation & Atonement:
“In the doctrine of reconciliation we come to the heart of the theology of Karl Barth.” (Thompson, 47)

Barth dwells on the parable of the Prodigal Son insisting upon a Christological reading which sees God revealing the kind of God that he is. He is the God who goes “into the far country.” By this, Barth means to picture the identification of God with us. This is the fulfillment of the covenant and election. God becomes our brother and thereby identifies with the prodigal nation of Israel.

Berkouwer says, “Through the man Jesus Christ, God himself is revealed as the divine subject in the work of Christ. This conception brings us to the heart of Barth’s doctrine of reconciliation… For Barth, the truth of the whole of dogmatics rests on this God himself.” (cited in Thompson, 49)

“The way of the Son of God into the far country is the way of obedience… the first and inner moment of the mystery of the deity of Christ.” (CD IV/1)

Again, Barth insists that the humiliation, the suffering, and death of Jesus is the revelation of God, and therefore it rests upon the way the Son submits and obeys the Father in the Spirit. But how does this not slide into some form of subordinationism or modalism? Barth says that ironically both of these errors actually push obedience out of the center of God by their formulations. The former is based upon an actual inferiority while the latter has no differentiation allowing such an economy.

The other heading that Barth uses to describe the atonement is “The Judge judged in our place.” Barth says that a judge is “Basically and decisively … the one whose concern is for order and peace, who must uphold the right and prevent the wrong, so that his existence and coming and work is not in itself and as such a matter for fear, but something which indicates a favor, the existence of one who brings salvation.” (CD IV/1)

Barth cannot get over the fact that Jesus is not only God with us, but he is supremely God for us. And this comes to the fore in numerous ways, not least the crucifixion and death of Jesus. “In this humiliation, God is supremely God … in this death he is supremely alive,” such that “he has maintained and revealed his deity in the passion of this man as his eternal Son.” (Cited by Thompson, 69)

Several implications:

Kenosis: If Christ is the person who does what God does for us then the act of incarnation is in startling ways a revelation of the way God is in himself. For God the Son to take on flesh, humble himself in obedience to the point of suffering and death, is for God-Father-Son-Holy Spirit to be revealed as he is. The Son who submits to the Father in eternity is the Son who submits to the Father in the flesh.

This answers two extremes: The more orthodox Chalcedonian definition can tend to suggest (though not necessarily) that what happens in the incarnation is fundamentally different from the way God is in eternity. And while orthodoxy insists upon the perfect union of God and man in the person of Jesus Christ, there is still a certain amount of tension which tends to push in heretical directions (e.g. docetism or apollinarianism). Yet what Barth insists that this is the polar opposite of the truth. What God does and who God is in the incarnation is in some sense the supreme expression of who he is and what he does. Likewise the less orthodox modern attempts to reconcile vere deus and vere homo have resulted in displacing attributes of God or man (usually the former).

Barth’s Doctrine of Scripture
The supremely personal nature of the event of the incarnation comes to bear on Barth’s description and understanding of Scripture. A static relation-less “being” of Scripture would be an inaccurate revelation of Christ since that is not the way Christ is. While Barth’s doctrine of Scripture would be less careful than we might prefer, his use and appeal to Scripture clearly indicates that it is the supreme and infallible authority in matters of faith and practice. But they are the supreme and infallible voice of the living and active Christ through the working of the Holy Spirit (Jn. 5:39).

In Theology - Christology

The Fifth Commandment

November 21, 2008 — 2 Comments

It seems to me that one of the greatest needs of the Church at large is a recovery of and thereby a thorough repentance with regard to the fifth commandment.

The command to honor father and mother is not limited to merely honoring mom and dad. Honoring father and mother applies to all lawful authorities. Civil magistrates are fathers and mothers, pastors and elders are fathers and mothers, teachers, employers, principles, police men, uncles, grandparents, older siblings and all others ‘over us’ in our lives are fathers and mothers due honor and respect and as far as possible obedience.

Strikingly, one of the places where we are in the greatest danger regarding our keeping of the fifth commandment is in some of the most conservative, family-values sorts of homes and communities. In the Leave-It-To-Beaver outposts of conservative Christianity there is frequently a robust disregard of authority that is being lived out by moms and dads, and the lesson is being learned fabulously by their children.

So this is the drill: Dad leads the family, mom teaches the kids, bakes amazing dinners, and the kids all generally obey and are respectful. The family is all squeaky clean. But when any lawful authority imposes upon mom and dad, the reality bursts out into the open. So for example, when the elders of a presbyterian church do not allow the young children of this family to partake of the Lord’s Supper, the parents throw a pietistic hissy-fit, cause a ruckus, and leave to find a church that will allow them to do what they want.

And of course it is all done with somber faces and pious tones. There are solemn conversations about following the conscience and submitting to Scripture, and all the rest.

But the kids are busy taking notes: “Always get your own way. If they say ‘no,’ throw a fit and leave.”

Or maybe the issue is baptism or education or taxes or in-laws or grandparents.

And my suspicion is that the consequences may frequently be worse in good, Christian families. The greater the order, the better the lesson is learned. The more engaged the kids are, the more likely they will get the point. The more strictly they are required to “obey dad” while this is going on, the more clearly they will get the point.

And so ironically, the home where the fifth commandment is most fervently venerated on the surface may in fact be the breeding ground for some of the worst dishonor, some of the most flagrant disrespect and disobedience.

In Misc, Pastoral Theology

Feet

November 21, 2008 — Leave a comment

Just a little concordance study here:

The word is “foot/feet.”

What’s fun is that “spies” in the OT are commonly referred to as “feet.” And when they are “spying” out the land, they are “footing” the land.

In Bible - Hermeneutics

The Proverbs of River

November 14, 2008 — 1 Comment

My son spoke his first proverb last night:

“A fighting family is sadder than being eaten by a T-Rex.”

Another variation includes Velociraptors.

Note: I posted another version earlier, and my son informed me that I was wrong. So here is the revised and corrected version.

In Family

Bucer on Bread Worship

November 11, 2008 — Leave a comment

Throughout his Commentary on the Book of Common Prayer, Bucer refers to the adoration of the host as artolatreia, that is, “bread worship.”

He also says that the reason the early Church Fathers called the Eucharist a sacrifice is because all the faithful were expected to bring offerings and alms, and they were placed on the table in the assembly. Out of these sacrifices of praise, the bread and wine were taken, given thanks for, and shared as the communion in the body and blood of the Lord. But these alms and gifts were meant to be for the poor and needy and strangers in their midst and community. Thus, the Eucharist was a sacrifice for the life of the world on a number of levels.

In History - Bucer

Beware of Premature Repayment

November 10, 2008 — Leave a comment

“He said also to the man who had invited him, “When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.” (Lk. 14:12-14)

In Bible - Luke, Justice and Mercy

Twenty-Sixth Sunday in Trinity: Ruth 2:1-23

November 10, 2008 — Leave a comment

Opening Prayer: Gracious Father, we thank you that you have sent your only Son to be our life and light. We thank you that you have also given us His Spirit. Grant us grace now to hear your word rightly, to love you more fully, and to walk faithfully before you.

Introduction
We considered the sharp contrasts last week between Ruth and Naomi, and yet we have also noted that despite Israel’s failures God is still visiting his people, still giving bread to the hungry (1:6, 22). The point is that God’s people always need a great Savior, and this “Mary” will bring life to Israel though the birth of a son.

Boaz the Relative
Boaz was the son of Rahab of Jericho (Mt. 1:5, cf. Ruth 4:20-21, Josh. 2:1ff), and this gives us some important insight into who Boaz is and what makes him such a “great” and “mighty” man (2:1). Gideon and Jephthah were also called “gibor khayil” (Jdg. 6:12, cf. 1 Sam. 9:1, 1 Kg. 11:28, 2 Kg. 5:1). Khayil can also mean “competent” (Gen. 47:6). Boaz contrasts sharply with Elimelech: his name probably means something related to “strength,” but it is clear fairly quickly that his strength is in his generosity, in his kindness, and in his diligence. Boaz did not leave the land when times got tough, he trusted God through the difficulties expecting to be raised up in due time.

The Field
Ruth asks Naomi’s permission to glean in the field (2:2). There was a “field” around every city which was divided according to the inheritance of various families (e.g. Lev. 25:34). Certain portions of the field might be sold in hard times, but they would be returned in the year of Jubilee (Lev. 25:13-17, 28-31). The idea of gleaning behind the harvesters is part of Israel’s legal code for the protection of the poor (Lev. 19:9-10, 23:22, Dt. 24:19-22). The “field” in Bethlehem is contrasted here with the “fields” of Moab (1:1, 2, 6, 22).

Finding Grace
Ruth says that she wants to go into the field in order to gather after one in whom she finds “grace” (2:2). This is the same word used to describe the “grace” that Noah found in the eyes of the Lord (Gen. 6:8). It is this very expression that Ruth uses when she bows down before Boaz (2:10, 13). Boaz calls Ruth his “daughter” (2:8) and entreats Ruth to stay with his “young women” (2:8-9). This attention that Boaz shows Ruth is fairly extraordinary, but Boaz is most impressed with Ruth’s commitment to the God of Israel, “under whose wings” she has come for refuge (2:12). The “wings” of God is a reference back to the Exodus when God bore his people on “eagles’ wings” (Ex. 19:4, Dt. 32:9-12) as well as the wings of the cherubim that overshadowed the mercy seat in the Most Holy Place (Ex. 25:20, 37:9). To be under the “wings” of Yahweh is to be covered in blood, in the care of his covenant. Boaz’s kindness extends further when he invites her to eat with him, giving her more than enough (2:14), and she is “filled” despite Naomi’s emptiness. Boaz also orders that his men not only allow her to gather after them but that they intentionally leave extra stalks for her (2:15-16). As Ruth “clung” to Naomi (1:14), Boaz now instructs Ruth to “cling” to his young women (2:8) and young men (2:21), and she does (2:23). Salvation is found in clinging to the people of God.

Conclusions & Applications
Ruth returns to Naomi “full,” and Naomi cannot help but bless Yahweh who has not forgotten his covenant mercy and kindness (2:17-20). This is of course a huge reversal of her previous statements (1:20-21). But this is what grace does, and we should be hungry for more.

Naomi tells Ruth that this man Boaz is their Near Redeemer (2:20). This word describes God’s redemption of Israel from Egypt (Ex. 6:6, 15:13), and forms the basis upon which Israel is to live like freemen: A redeemer is one who frees a slave (Lev. 25:47-55), buys back land or an inheritance (Lev. 25:25-34), or even avenges murder (Num. 35:9-29, Dt. 19, Josh. 20:2-9). Redemption is also an act of substitution before the Lord (Lev. 27:14-34). And the one appointed to these tasks was a near relative (Lev. 25:48-49).

Ultimately, all of this is about our Lord Jesus who is our Savior-Brother, our Near Redeemer (Ps. 19:15, Is. 43:1, Tit. 2:14, 1 Pet. 1:18). And this is good news for our families (Mk. 3:35), and it means that we have become Kinsmen-Redeemers to one another and to our communities, to the lost, to the hungry, to the barren, and to the bitter.

In the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, Amen!

Closing Prayer: King Father, you have truly blessed beyond anything we could have expected. You sent your Son to die for us while we were still sinners. While we were still your enemies, you came for us. You claimed us as your family, your relatives, and you intervened on our behalf. We thank you and praise you and ask you to give us the grace to live this way for others both those in our own families and all of our neighbors. Through Jesus Christ our Lord, who taught us to pray, singing…

In Bible - Ruth, Sermon Outlines

Bethlehem in Uproar

November 7, 2008 — Leave a comment

When Naomi and Ruth return to Bethlehem, the whole city is in an “uproar” because of them (1:19). The word for “uproar” is used to describe armies in panicked confusion (Dt. 7:23), the shouts that accompany the ark of the covenant (1 Sam. 4:5), the acclamation of a king (1 Kg. 1:45), and the noise of a multitude (Mic. 2:12).

Why does the writer tell us this? What is it about the return of Naomi that produces this response? Or is this a word that is meant to tip off readers to a particularly important typological meaning? If the latter, what?

In Bible - Ruth

Goshen as Protection

November 5, 2008 — Leave a comment

In a series of talks on the book of Ruth, James Jordan discusses the history of Israel in the book of Genesis. He suggests in particular that God wanted Israel down in Goshen in Egypt in order to protect them from the worst of the pagan influences in Canaan. He cites the various failures of Reuben, Simeon, Levi, and Judah, and suggests that this was due to the influence of the Canaanites all around them. But because the sons of Israel were shepherds they would be kept at arms’ length and despised by the Egyptians, and this would be good for Israel. They would be less influenced by their open enemies and at the same time enjoy the best of the land and grow strong as a nation. Clearly, despite all of Israel’s weaknesses and later failings, this is exactly what happened leading up to the Exodus.

In Bible - Genesis