The Scarlet Thread (Joshua 2:18, 21)

How was Rahab the harlot’s house identified to the Israelites? A scarlet cord in the window (Joshua 2:21)

Jericho was the first military objective during the Israelites’ conquest of the Promised Land. Before his army marches, Joshua dispatches two spies to scout the city (Joshua 2:1). In Jericho, the scouts lodge with the local harlot, Rahab (Joshua 2:1). As her house is situated in the city’s wall, the Israelite spies get the lay of the land from the prostitute’s home (Joshua 2:16). When the spies’ presence is discovered, Rahab covers the men in flax on her roof and covers for the men with the local authorities (Joshua 2:2-7).

Rahab professes faith in the Israelites’ God, understands her nation’s futility in opposing the pending attack and requests clemency (Joshua 2:8-15). In spite of the fact that Moses had forbidden such an oath (Deuteronomy 7:1-5, 20:16-18), the men agree and select a scarlet cord to indicate that her home will be spared when the city is ransacked (Joshua 2:18). Rahab accepts their terms and immediately ties the cord in her window (Joshua 2:21).

She said, “According to your words, so be it.” So she sent them away, and they departed; and she tied the scarlet cord in the window. (Joshua 2:21 NASB)

The encouraged spies return to their army on the east bank of the Jordan River and echo Rahab’s words in their report to their commander (Joshua 2:9, 24). The scouts’ reconnaissance will prove unnecessary as God miraculously intervenes and the city’s wall famously falls (Joshua 6:1-25). Even so, the Israelites keep their word and Rahab and her family are saved (Joshua 6:17, 23, 25).

There are parallels in other classical sources of prostitutes providing assistance in notable conquests but unlike them, Rahab is not merely relocated but also redeemed. Her faith is recalled twice in the New Testament (Hebrews 11:31; James 2:25) and not once in any later literature is she condemned for either her occupation or her deception.

At the outset of the story, Rahab represents the ultimate Other to the Israelites. Yet this outsider will become an insider by voluntarily aligning with Yahweh. In contrast in the aftermath of the battle of Jericho, Achan becomes the embodiment of an insider who becomes an outsider by rejecting God (Joshua 7:1-26). Faith in God has always been a criteria for salvation.

John Goldingay (b. 1942) speculates as to Rahab’s motives for siding with Israel and its God:

It is said that men have ambivalent feelings about women who make their sexual favors available; they both utilize them and disapprove of them. Economic factors are commonly what drive women into the sex trade; perhaps Rahab was a widow. Evidently she has a family to be concerned for, but perhaps they had a hard time making ends meet, and this was the way she learned to survive without being dependent on them. A woman like Rahab will be a marginal figure in the society, part of it but not really part of it. So maybe it is easier for her to respond differently to what people are saying about the Israelites, as it will be possible for a woman such as Mary of Magdala to respond to Jesus in a way that most of the male pillars of society cannot. Like the midwives in Exodus 1 or other women in Israel’s story, she does not feel obliged to tell the male authority figures the truth when there is nothing truthful about the way they are behaving. (Goldingay, Joshua, Judges, and Ruth for Everyone 13)

The sign indicating Rahab’s location had to be significant enough to be noticed by the Israelites yet sufficiently inconspicuous to her people. The sign selected is the scarlet cord (Joshua 2:18, 21). Though not mentioned in the account of the fall of Jericho or later references to Rahab, the scarlet cord is mentioned twice in the harlot’s interaction with the spies (Joshua 2:18, 21). Some have connected Rahab so much with this item that they have been dubbed her the “scarlet woman”.

The object is translated as “scarlet cord” (ESV, HCSB, NASB, NIV, NKJV, RSV), “scarlet line” (ASV, KJV), “scarlet rope” (NLT), “red rope” (CEV, MSG) and “crimson cord” (NRSV). This exposed cord becomes the sign of the covenant she seeks; it effectively marks her home as a “safe house” (Joshua 2:12-23).

This thread has generated much interest. Richard S. Hess (b. 1954) analyzes:

This word for “cord” (tiqwā)...normally describes a simple thread, such as something of low value that Abram refuses from the king of Sodom (Genesis 14:23). The term for “scarlet” (śānî) appears elsewhere in the Bible to describe textiles used to decorate the tabernacle (e.g., Exodus 25:4), cleansing rituals (Leviticus 14:4), a bright color (Genesis 38:28), and special garments for the wealthy (Proverbs 31:21)...In contrast to the usage of “red” in the contexts of holiness and purity in Israel, the origin of the Akkadian term for “Canaan” may identify the color “red-purple.” This color, derived from the purple dye processed at Tyre, Dor, and other coastal cities, could have been understood as a statement of loyalty to the region by other Canaanites. However, its connection with Israel may have a double meaning. (John H. Walton [b. 1952] and Daniel I. Block [b. 1943], Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1 and 2 Samuel (Zondervan Illustrated Bible Backgrounds Commentary), 21)

Jerome F.D. Creach (b. 1962) adds:

The expression “crimson cord” in Hebrew is actually three words that stand in relationship to each other, including the word denoting the color crimson. The word translated “cord” is tiqwah, which comes from a verbal root meaning “to be tense/rigid” and, by extension, “to be expectant.” The noun form elsewhere in the Old Testament has the second connotation and means “hope.” A related form (qaw), which appears numerous times, always refers to a measuring line, as used in construction (I Kings 7:23; Job 38:5). If this related term is any clue, it would further argue against the idea the tiqwah refers to a rope. The second word in the expression “crimson cord” is the Hebrew hût, meaning “thread.” Hence, although English translations do not show it, the two words together have the sense of a “cord of thread.” Again, this seems to refer to a line not substantial enough to support the Israelite spies (see the use hût, “thread” in Judges 16:12; Ecclesiastes 4:12)...Although it is not certain, the “cord of thread” probably refers to a strand of material from which cloth could be woven. That it was a crimson cord, not a whole piece of cloth, makes sense when we realize that ancient Near Eastern people typically dyed individual strands so that the cords might then be woven together with others of different colors to make cloth (W.F. Albright [1891-1971], The Excavation of Tell Beit Mirsim, 3:60-61). (Creach, Joshua (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 38)

The cord may have been something that was already in Rahab’s possession. This seems likely as why would spies, who by the nature of their mission are trying to be inconspicuous, be traveling with a bright red cord? Rahab uses a rope to lower the spies from her home and the text is ambiguous as to whether or not this is the same rope (Joshua 2:15). Phyllis A. Bird (b. 1934) has posited that the scarlet cord was used for advertising, the ancient near eastern equivalent of a red-light district (Bird, “The Harlot as Heroine”, Semeia 46: 130). If this is the case, it would not arouse suspicion. Unfortunately, there is no evidence that the practice of identifying a brothel in this manner ever existed.

Richard D. Nelson (b. 1945) comments:

Although “this crimson thread” (Joshua 2:18) sounds as though they [the spies] are providing her with it (as a gift of feminine finery?), this seems awkward from the standpoint of staging. Perhaps the reader is meant to suppose that Rahab has just lowered them by her (perhaps very feminine and sexy) crimson thread, presumably intended as a touch of humor...Although her display of the cord...in the window is technically premature, it is the appropriate place for the narrator to assure us that she has taken this last prudent, expectant step. (Nelson, Joshua: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 51-52)

The positioning of the cord has proven problematic for interpreters. Military historian Richard A. Gabriel (b. 1942) reads between the biblical lines and develops a far less miraculous explanation of the fall of Jericho based upon the scarlet cord’s locaton:

Fashioned in this manner, the crimson cord would only be visible from outside the city wall, making it useless as an indicator of Rahab’s house ravaging the city from the inside. That is why the Israelite scouts told Rahab to keep herself and her family inside the house during the attack [Joshua 2:18]...What, then, was the purpose of the crimson cord?...The answer might be that the crimson cord marked the window through which the Israelite elite troops enter the city. The dust and confusion caused by the Israelite army as it assembled and marched through the city...was sufficient distraction for small numbers of Israelite troops to enter the city through Rahab’s window...The idea was to infiltrate a few men at a time into Rahab’s house, using the army’s activities outside the wall as a distraction...The defense would have collapsed quite quickly, perhaps tempting the text’s author to employ the metaphor that “the walls collapsed on the spot [Joshua 6:20].” (Gabriel, The Military History of Ancient Israel, 132)

Many have derived greater significance from the object. L. Daniel Hawk (b. 1955) notes:

The “crimson cord” constitutes a double pun...The cord (tiqwat) marks the “hope” (tiqwâ) which the pact has given Rahab, while its crimson color (haššānî) beckons the two (šnēy) spies. On a deeper level, the reddish color at the window recalls the Israelite deliverance from death in Egypt (Exodus 12:1-31). The instructions which the spies give to Rahab parallel those which YHWH gives to Israel in preparation for the first Passover (Exodus 12:21-28). Like Israel in Egypt, Rahab is told to mark a portal with red (lamb’s blood on the doorway in Egypt, the crimson cord at the window in Jericho), to gather her family within her home, and to keep them within the house when destruction comes. The instructions are followed, in Exodus, by the promise that the Israelites will be spared from the destroyer. The spies also follow directives with promises...By including this information, the narrator discloses that Rahab and her family participate in one of the constitutive events in Israel’s story. Rahab’s family will experience its own Passover, and later generations will (but for a change of particulars) be able to recite the story of national deliverance with the rest of the people. The incorporation of Rahab into Israel is now virtually complete. (Hawk, Joshua (Berit Olam, Studies in Hebrew Narrative & Poetry), 49-50)

Why is Rahab’s family saved in the conquest of Jericho? Other than sparing Rahab, does the spying serve any purpose? Why is the scarlet cord selected as the sign of this alliance? Is there significance to the color? What sign would you have chosen?

Many have seen Rahab as a picture of salvation as an undeserved external red object becomes the instrument of her salvation. As early as the late first century, Clement equated the scarlet cord (Joshua 2: 18, 21) to the blood of the cross (I Clement 12:7). Since that time, Bible teachers have spoken of the scarlet thread running the course of the Bible from Abel (Genesis 4:10) to Calvary (John 19:34).

Francis A. Schaeffer (1912-1984) documents:

In the preaching of the Christian church, all the way back to Clement of Rome (perhaps earlier, but we do not know), this cord has been taken as a sign of the blood of Christ, the Lamb. One should not be dogmatic about it because the Bible does not explicitly make this connection; nevertheless, many on the church have emphasized over the centuries that the scarlet cord was a mark of something beyond itself. (Schaeffer, Joshua and the Flow of Biblical History, 85)

Woodrow Kroll (b. 1944) adds:

In order to identify that she was under the protection of the Most High God, she tied a cord in the window, a blood-red sign of salvation...This thread of redemption shows up often throughout the Bible and has been noticed by many scholars. Matthew Henry [1662-1714] described it this way, “A golden thread of gospel grace runs through the whole web of the Old Testament.” W.A. Criswell [1909-2002] once preached a watch night service on New Year’s Eve from 7:30 PM until past midnight. His theme for this marathon message was “The Scarlet Thread Through the Bible.” It was later published as a book. (Kroll, How to Find God in the Bible: A Personal Plan for the Encounter of Your Life, 147)

J. Gordon Harris (b. 1940) advises caution when using this means of interpretation:

Details about the rope strengthen the art of the narrative and should not be considered theological points. Early church fathers used typology to associate the red cord with the red blood of Jesus. They taught that as the cord saved the lives of Rahab and her family, so does the blood of Christ. However, the original passage in Joshua did not place any particular prominence on the color of the cord. Red would be visible at a great distance. Even New Testament allusions to Rahab did not associate the color of the cord with the color of Jesus’ blood. Despite the similarity of the two types, modern preachers need to use typology sparingly and carefully. It is enough to realize that God saved the lives of Rahab and her family through the red cord tied to the window. (Harris, Cheryl A. Brown [b. 1949] & Michael S. Moore [b. 1951], Joshua, Judges, Ruth (New International Biblical Commentary), 13)

Whether typological or not, the scarlet cord held great personal meaning to Rahab. John A. Huffman, Jr. (b. 1940) writes:

Rahab was willing to join a new family—the family of God. She probably didn’t fully understand the significance of the scarlet rope that the spies told her to hang from her window any more than did all the Jews who were saved out of Egypt understand the significance of blood splashed over their doorways. They came to understand in the years ahead the significance of the blood sacrifice in the ordinance of the Passover. Perhaps the scarlet cord had in its color significance that reached forward in history to the blood atonement of Jesus Christ. It might have simply been her way of “tying a yellow ribbon on the old oak tree,” signifying her identity, love, and trust for a people and a God she was only beginning to know...For Rahab, the scarlet rope was sacramental. It was an outward sign of an inner work of grace which God was bringing to pass in her life. It was a sign that she believed God to be God. (Huffman, Joshua (Mastering the Old Testament), 64-65)

What is the meaning of the scarlet thread? What did it mean to Rahab? What, if anything does it mean to you? Do you have any outward visible signs of your inner invisible faith? How do you demonstrate your allegiance? Have you performed an act that means to you what tying a scarlet cord in her window meant to Rahab?

She is not afraid of the snow for her household,
For all her household are clothed with scarlet.
-Proverbs 31:21, King James Version

Putting Jesus in His Place (Revelation 14:1)

Which chapter begins “Then I looked and lo, on Mount Zion stood the Lamb”? Revelation 14

Revelation 13 paints a bleak picture of enemies aligning against God in the final cosmic battle between Satan and God. The great red dragon (Revelation 12:3, 13:1) enlists two beasts in the war against God, one from the sea (Revelation 13:1) the other from the earth (Revelation 13:11). The beast appears to have an advantage as many have taken the notorious mark of the beast (Revelation 13:16-18). Then the scene shifts.

To the relief of the reader, Revelation 14 moves from war to peace (Revelation 14:1-5). The Lamb, last seen seven chapters earlier (Revelation 7:17), is reintroduced. Despite his extended absence, no introduction is necessary. The reader knows the Lamb to be Jesus, the lone figure worthy to unloose the seals of the scroll (Revelation 5:11-14) and receive the adulation of the multitude (Revelation 7:10). Amid the apparent chaos, the Lamb stands triumphantly with 144,000 of his followers (Revelation 14:1-5).

Then I looked, and behold, the Lamb was standing on Mount Zion, and with Him one hundred and forty-four thousand, having His name and the name of His Father written on their foreheads. (Revelation 14:1 NASB)

The author emphasizes the striking quality of this visual by adding the phrase “looked and behold” (Revelation 14:1).

The picture of the Lamb atop the mountain stands in sharp contrast to the visuals from the previous chapter. The text transitions from those who have taken the mark of the beast to those who bear the mark of Christ. The names adorning the believers’ foreheads fulfills a previous promise given to the victors (Revelation 3:12). This inscription of God’s name dramatically opposes the mark of the beast, the number of his name. While the beast attempts to elicit worship, the Lamb is the recipient of true worship. The scene portrays the past invading the present while simultaneously foreshadowing the future as it recalls Revelation 7:1-8 and anticipates Revelation 21:1-22:6.

The lamb’s position, atop Mount Zion, is significant. The location is mentioned only here in Revelation. Zion is seldom mentioned in the New Testament and when it is, it is most commonly in Old Testament quotations (Matthew 21:5; John 12:15; Romans 9:33, 11:26; Hebrews 12:22; I Peter 2:6; Revelation 14:1; also Barnabas 6:2). Even so, Zion carries a lot of weight.

Though “Mount Zion” is introduced in the Bible as a fortress on one the southernmost and highest of the hills of the pre-Israelite city of Jerusalem (II Samuel 5:7) it eventually took on a broader reach, sometimes loosely encompassing all of Jerusalem. Nelson’s New Illustrated Bible Dictionary charts the name’s scope:

The designation of Zion underwent a distinct progression in its usage throughout the Bible...The first mention of Zion in the Bible is...the name of the ancient Jebusite fortress situated on the southeastern hill of Jerusalem at the junction of the Kidron Valley and the Tyropoeon Valley [II Samuel 5:7]. The name came to stand not only for the fortress but also for the hill on which the fortress stood...When Solomon built the temple of Mount Moriah (a hill distinct and separate from Mount Zion), and moved the ark of the covenant there, the word “Zion” expanded in meaning to include also the Temple and the Temple area (Psalm 2:6, 48:2, 11-12, 132:13). It was only a short step until Zion was used as a name for the city of Jerusalem, the land of Judah, and the people of Israel as a whole (Isaiah 40:9; Jeremiah 31:12). (Ronald F. Youngblood [b. 1931], Nelson’s New Illustrated Bible Dictionary: Completely Revised and Updated Edition), 1343)

Joseph L. Trafton (b. 1949) adds:

David took Jerusalem from the Jebusites by capturing the “stronghold of Zion,” which he renamed the city of David (II Samuel 5:6-10). Solomon built the Temple on a hill directly north of the City of David (I Kings 8:1-6). Hence, the site of the Temple, along with Jerusalem itself, came to be known as “Mount Zion” (e.g., Psalm 48:2, 74:2, 78:68-69, Isaiah 8:18, 18:7; Lamentations 5:18; cf. Psalm 2:6) or sometimes simply “Zion” (e.g., Psalm 147:12; Isaiah 37:32, 62:1; Joel 3:17; Micah 3:12, 4:2). In the Old Testament the expression “Mount Zion” is identified further as a place that will experience future deliverance (Joel 2:32; Obadiah 1:17, 21) and blessing (Isaiah 4:2-6), to which gifts will be brought by foreigners (Isaiah 18:7), which God will defend (Isaiah 31:4-5), out of which will come a remnant of survivors (Isaiah 37:32), and to which exiles will come to be ruled by the Lord forever (Micah 4:6-7). (Trafton, Reading Revelation: A Literary And Theological Commentary, 134)

At the time of Revelation’s writing, Zion was an emblematic term, long associated with the type of divine deliverance depicted here (Joel 2:32). It had an eternal quality which applied to heavenly temple in present (Hebrews 12:22; Revelation 11:19) and pointed to the new Jerusalem of the future (Revelation 21:2). Consequently, there is much debate as to whether the Zion in question is in heaven or on earth.

The text is ambiguous. Those who support a heavenly setting note that the Lamb is last seen in heaven and the narrative makes no comment about his transitioning from heaven to earth (Revelation 7:9). Likewise, the composition’s author, John, is never said to move from his initial position, also in heaven (Revelation 4:1). Another detail favoring a heavenly scene is a singing multitude of 144,000 suggesting the same group that previously appears in heaven (Revelation 7:4).

Those who support an earthly vision argue that the text itself says nothing of heaven. The 144,000 had been sealed and protected previously, which would be presumably unnecessary if they resided in heaven (Revelation 7:3). Some also note that the fact that in the next verse the author hears “a voice from heaven” indicates that he is situated on earth (Revelation 14:2).

Scholars are divided on the issue. Stephen S. Smalley (b. 1931) compares:

The precise location of Mount Zion in Revelation 14:1 is not immediately clear. In the view of some commentators, the setting of this verse is on earth; even if the reality represented is spiritual (William Milligan [1821-1893] 240-41; Henry Barclay Swete [1835-1917] 177; Isbon Thaddeus Beckwith [1843-1936] 647, 651; R.H. Charles [1855-1931] 2, 4-5; Michael Wilcock [b. 1932] 132; Robert W. Wall [b. 1947] 179; David E. Aune [b. 1939] 803). Others regard the vision of the Lamb of Zion, with the 144,000, as taking place in heaven (Martin Kiddle 262-65; William Hendriksen [1900-1982] 151; P.W.L. Walker [b. 1961], Holy City 261; Robert H. Mounce [b. 1921] 264-65); cf. 4 Ezra 2.42-48. A third interpretation equates Zion in this context with the new Jerusalem, which ‘comes down from heaven’ (Revelation 21:2), and becomes part of the new creation after the destruction of the old; so George Eldon Ladd [1911-1982] 189-90...also G.R. Beasley-Murray [1916-2000] 222, who believes there is a contrast here between the earthly Jerusalem, which has become a symbol for the godless world (Revelation 11:8-10) and the Jerusalem from above, where heaven and earth are brought together in a unity (Revelation 21:16). (Smalley, The Revelation to John: A Commentary on the Greek Text of the Apocalypse, 354)

The inconclusiveness is not surprising as Revelation is typically unconcerned with geography, frequently mixing temporal and spatial images. The book’s subject matter transcends time and space. The setting of Revelation’s Mount Zion could be heaven, earth, both or neither.

Ian Boxall (b. 1964) opts for a more general spiritual interpretation of the salvation community:

John is not concerned with physical geography: where the Lamb is standing is not the Temple Mount or even the heavenly Mount Zion (cf. Hebrews 12:22), but that spiritual Zion which is nowhere and everywhere. It describes that state of openness to God and protection by him which has been referred to elsewhere as the measured sanctuary (Revelation 11:1) or the ‘holy city’ (Revelation 11:2). It is that place of true spiritual worship which takes place neither on Mount Gerizim nor in Jerusalem (John 4:21-24). Understood in this way, the question as to whether this scene is located on earth or in heaven is superfluous. (Boxall, Revelation of Saint John, The (Black’s New Testament Commentary), 200)

James L. Resseguie (b. 1945) adds:

The symbolic mountain Zion is a sanctuary for the 144,000 who have the Lamb’s name and the name of the Father written on their foreheads (Revelation 14:1). Zion, a place of safety, is similar to the wilderness sanctuary (Revelation 12:6, 14) and the measured temple (Revelation 11:1). In the Old Testament, Zion is a refuge where God reigns along with the Messiah (Psalm 2:6-12; cf. 4 Ezra 13:25-35). The mountain is neither in heaven nor on earth, but is “nowhere and everywhere” at the same time. It is not found on John’s physical map, but on his spiritual map. Zion is God’s mountain, the “site of God’s presence,” and contrasts with Babylon, also located on mountains (Revelation 17:9). This is the first of several contrasts developed in the chapter that express an ideological point of view. Not only does Zion contrast Babylon (Revelation 14:1, 8), but also the names on the foreheads of the 144,000 contrast with the name of the beast on the foreheads or hands of its followers (Revelation 14:1, 9, 11); the grain harvest of the righteous contrasts with a grape harvest of the wicked (Revelation 14:14-16, 17-20); the wrath of God contrasts with the blessing of those who die in the Lord (Revelation 14:10, 13); and celibacy contrasts with fornication (Revelation 14:4, 8). (Resseguie, The Revelation of John: A Narrative Commentary, 193-194)

The reference to Mount Zion conveyed hope of restoration in and of itself to the original audience as the earthly Mount Zion had been pillaged by the Romans when Revelation was written.

Craig S. Keener (b. 1960) reminds:

Perhaps most significant of our observation here is the location of the 144,000. They are with the Lamb on Mount Zion, God’s dwelling in the present (Psalm 74:2, 76:2) and the future (Zechariah 2:10, 8:3), a place of Israel’s hopes for salvation (Psalm 53:6, 69:35, 87:5, 102:13) and triumph (Psalm 110:2; Obadiah 1:21; II Baruch 40:1). Although Jerusalem after 70 AD lay mostly in shambles and the nations were now trampling God’s sanctuary even in a symbolic sense (Revelation 11:2), John’s audience knew that the prophets had promised Zion’s restoration (Isaiah 1:27, 4:5, 46:13, 51:3, 61:11; Micah 4:2, 7). God would dwell in the midst of Zion as the triumphant warrior who delivered them (Zephaniah 3:15-19). He would make war form Mount Zion (Isaiah 31:4; cf. Zechariah 14:4); Jewish apocalyptic tradition added that the Messiah would stand atop Mount Zion when preparing to make war (4 Ezra 13:35). (Keener, Revelation (The NIV Application Commentary), 369)

Mount Zion itself becomes symbolic of redemption and victory. In spite of the previous chapter’s gloom and doom, the Lamb still reigns. In fact, some view Revelation 14:1-5 as the Lamb’s coronation as depicted in the second psalm (Psalm 2:6), a passage Revelation has already alluded to twice (Revelation 11:18, 12:5).

G.K. Beale (b. 1949) comments:

In the last days God will “install” his “Messiah” and “King on Zion, my [God’s] holy mountain.” Then the Messiah will judge the ungodly and will be a place of refuge for those who fear him (Psalm 2:6-12). On this Old Testament basis 4 Ezra 13:25-52 (cf. 4 Ezra 13:36) and II Baruch 40 speak of the “Son” and “Messiah” standing on “Mount Zion” at the end time judging the unrighteous and “defending” or “protecting” the remnant (those who “remain” or the “rest”). (Beale, The Book of Revelation (New International Greek Testament Commentary), 732)

The king installed on Zion will not be a lion but a lamb. And in spite of seemingly insurmountable obstacles, evil will be conquered by the Lamb, specifically by his death as opposed to the exercise of divine power (Revelation 13:8).

What is the most pronounced change in setting you have seen from one seen to the next? If you are experiencing difficult days, do you believe that there are better days ahead? What do you want restored? Are you confident in God’s ultimate victory?

In art, this scene is the basis for one of the most common depictions of the Lamb: with a nimbus standing upon a hill from which four streams flow (Revelation 14:1). It is noteworthy that the Lamb has the elevated position of standing on a mountain. In contrast, when last seen the beast stood on the sand of the seashore (Revelation 13:1). Even though the beast seems more imposing, the Lamb holds the high ground. As He has all along.

Where do you stand? Where does Jesus? Do you have confidence that the Lamb will slay the Dragon? Do you feel that Jesus is where He is supposed to be even if it does not feel that way?

“When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it--always.” - Mahatma Gandhi (1869-1948)

The Payoff (Romans 6:23)

For the wages of sin is _____.” Death (Romans 6:23)

In Romans 6, Paul addresses an obvious distortion of the Christian message: “Shall we sin because we are not under the law but under grace?” (Romans 6:15 NASB; cf. Romans 6:1). The apostle vehemently answers in the negative asserting that the assurance of grace does not promote sin (Romans 6:15-23). The chapter concludes with a triumphant summation shrouded by a solemn warning (Romans 6:23).

For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 6:23 NASB)

Romans 6:23 restates the chapter’s central theme and returns to its imagery of bondage (Romans 6:6, 12, 16-17). Sin, personified as a wicked slave master, is naturally juxtaposed with God. Paul’s supposition is that all are slaves, either to sin or God. Each human faces a binary choice of master. Paul evaluates that decision by relaying the inevitable consequences of each option: death and eternal life (Romans 6:23).

Justifiably Romans 6:23 has become a well known verse in Christian circles as it cuts to the core of the gospel. It is a featured stop on the famed “Romans Road to Salvation” (Romans 3:23, 6:23, 5:8, 10:13, 10:9-10).

Robert J. Morgan (b. 1952) applauds:

With the possible exception of John 3:16, no other text in Scripture better sums up all sixty-six books and thirty-one thousand verses of the Bible. This is the ultimate Reader’s Digest version of God’s Word. (Morgan, 100 Bible Verses Everyone Should Know by Heart, 57)

Romans 6:23 draws upon two analogies. C.E.B. Cranfield (b. 1915) relays:

Sin is...personified, and is here represented as either a general who pays wages to his soldiers or – and this suits better the prominence of the idea of slavery in the preceding verses – as a slave-owner who pays his slaves an allowance or pocket-money (among the Romans this was normal practice.) The wage which the slave of sin has to expect is death. God, by contrast, does not pay wages, since no man can put Him in his debt; but the free gift which He gives is nothing less than eternal life. (Cranfield, Romans: A Shorter Commentary, 146)

In contrasting the inevitable outcomes of serving Sin and following God, Paul states that the wages of sin is death. The “wages of sin” deliberately builds upon a previous passage in Romans: “his wage is not credited as a favor” (Romans 4:4 NASB). Due in part to the verse’s popularity, the Greek opsonian is consistently translated “wages” (ASV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV). The Message paraphrases the thought as Death being Sin’s “pension”.

Opsonian is derived from two words meaning “cooked food” and “to buy”. It is used only four times in the New Testament (Luke 3:14; Romans 6:23; I Corinthians 9:7; II Corinthians 11:8). The term originally referred to ration money paid to soldiers; all three times the word is used in the Septuagint refer to a soldier’s salary (I Esdras 4:56; I Maccabees 3:28, 14:32). Though the word eventually took the broader meaning of payment for labor, its most frequent use remained the pay of soldiers. It connotes a pittance, a soldier’s wage.

James R. Edwards (b. 1945) examines:

The imagery of fruit...is here abandoned for the military imagery of Romans 6:13. Sin and God are depicted as warlords, the one paying the wages of death, the other offering release and freedom of life. There is a telling contrast between the wages of sin and the gift of God. Hans Heidland [1912-1992] notes that opsōnia, “wages,” were subsistence payments to soldiers. Thus, in the present context, sin promises to pay subsistence wages, to provide for our needs, but that is an illusion, for in reality it pays death. Again, opsōnia were not a flat sum but installments paid over the duration of a soldier’s service. If Paul is true to the metaphor, the death he refers to would not be death as a “lump sum,” i.e., physical death, but the shadow and consequences of death already in life. Most importantly, wages and gift are two entirely different things. In Heidland’s words, “Man has rights only in relation to sin, and these rights become his judgment” (TDNT, volume 5, p.592). (Edwards, Romans (New International Biblical Commentary), 175-76)

The wages Sin pays are valued at literally less than nothing, a negative on one’s ledger. And that wage is a flat rate. No matter how hard or little one works for Sin, the result is the same: death. Most, however, work diligently towards this end. In a tragic irony, Sin’s servants slave for death.

David L. Bartlett (b. 1941) sees a modern parallel:

Have you noticed how hard the tobacco industry has to work as its death-dealing subservience? The industry employs highly paid lobbyists and pseudo-scientists. It pays for ads enticing younger and younger people to take up the habit their elders are beginning to let go. It establishes international networks to sell abroad the stuff that is not selling as well at home as it used to. The enterprise is frantic. Corporations deal biological death to stave off economic death. Every paycheck has a price tag. Sin will do that to you, wear you out in its service and then send you out to die...Paul says that if you go chasing sin you will get paid in the end. You will get what you work for, and what you are working for is death. (Bartlett, Romans (Westminster Bible Companion), 65-66)

The Death in question is not limited to the cessation of one’s physical life; it also evokes a spiritual death. Millard J. Erickson (b. 1932) diagnoses:

Spiritual death is both connected with physical death and distinguished from it. It is the separation of the entire person from God...The essence of spiritual death can be seen in the case of Adam and Eve. “For when you eat of it [the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil] you will surely die” [Genesis 2:17] did not mean that they wold experience immediate physical death. It did mean...their potential mortality would become actual. It also meant spiritual death, separation between them and God...Sin results in alienation from God. This is the wages of sin of which Paul speaks in Romans 6:23. (Erickson, Christian Theology, 631)

Even those who are not oblivious to the oblivion resulting from sin often choose it. Paul J. Achtemeier (b. 1927) explains this calamity:

Sin uses the law to make us think we do not need to rely on mercy but can, somehow, make it under our own power, as it were. It lets us think we can, somehow, establish our worth in such a way that we do not need God’s mercy. We want that “boast before God” that not even Abraham could muster [Romans 4:1-2]. We want our salvation as wages, not mercy. In short, we want to do what only God can do: Furnish the grounds for our being declared righteous and hence acceptable to God. (Achtemeier, Romans (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 79-80)

As such Sin not only results in death but carries the additional byproduct of a compulsion to choose it and with it Death.

Sin is intentionally juxtaposed with God; what is the opposite of God? Do you perceive yourself as a slave (to either sin or God)? What is the connection between Sin and Death? Do you consider the consequences of a decision before you act? What is the alternative to serving Sin?

Unlike Sin, God does not pay wages, but instead offers a gift, charisma. This word is universally translated “gift” (CEV, HCSB, KJV, NIV, MSG, NKJV) but some translations accent the term by rendering it as “free gift” (ASV, ESV, NASB, NLT, NRSV, RSV). God’s gift is the polar opposite of Death: Eternal life.

Eternal life is given as a gift because it cannot be earned. While the believer’s actions are consequential (Revelation 20:12-14) one cannot merit eternal life on the basis of her works (Romans 3:20, 27-28, 4:2-5, 14; Ephesians 2:8-9; II Timothy 1:9; Titus 3:5). The believer’s salvation is fully attributable to grace.

Brendan Byrne (b 1939) clarifies:

To clinch the matter in a final supportive comment (Romans 6:23) Paul ironically points to death as the “wages” (opsōnia) paid by the slave master “Sin.” On the positive side, there is no talk of “wages” at all. That might suggest some kind of reward for righteous behavior and, while Paul may not have been as nervous about this as many of his later interpreters (cf. II Corinthians 5:5; also I Corinthians 3:14-15), his theological tendency is always to preserve the initiative of God. Hence he reaches for one of his favorite words—charisma (cf. already Romans 5:15, 16). The ultimate concrete expression of grace for the faithful “slave” will be the “gracious gift” of “eternal life in Christ Jesus, our Lord.” (Byrne, Romans (Sacra Pagina), 204)

Ben Witherington III (b. 1951) testifies:

Eternal life...is not something earned by the believer, even if he or she behaves in a holy manner, for holiness is obligatory, not optional, for the Christian. Eternal life is a grace gift. Even if Christian persons managed to live an entirely sanctified life, this would not oblige God to reward them with eternal life, for they will have done no more than what was required of them. Thus Paul does not see eternal life as some sort of quid pro quo for holy living in this lifetime. Salvation is indeed a matter of grace, received through faith, from start to finish. (Withertington, Paul’s Letter to the Romans: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary, 174)

Paul presents the full trajectories of serving both Sin and God. As when shooting a bow and arrow, a small adjustment in aiming leads to a wide variance at the target, in this case from death to life.

John Murray (1898-1975) summarizes:

In the clause, “the wages of sin is death”, there are two thoughts: (1) that the death with which we are inflicted is no more and no less than what we have earned; (2) that death is the inevitable consequence of sin. Rectitude governs the payment of wages and we therefore receive exactly and inevitably what we owe. In the clause, “but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” the governing idea is that of God’s free grace in contrast with the notion of remuneration, and the magnitude of this free grace is emphasized by the nature of the gift bestowed. The thought is not that the free grace of God issues in eternal life for us, though this is in itself true. But the precise thought is that the free gift consists in eternal life. When wages are in operation our lot is death, inescapably and in its ultimate expression. When the free gift of God is in operation our lot is life, eternal and indestructible. How totally alien to such contrasts is the importation of merit in any form or degree into the method of salvation. (Murray, The Epistle to the Romans, 238)

Sin gives no gifts but instead pays and pays horribly at that. God, the giver of life, counters Sin’s offer of Death, dispensing far better than wages: the free gift of eternal life. Despite having death as its enticement, Sin is well served. Given God’s much more appealing provision, God should be served all the more diligently.

The lesson is strikingly simple: serve God, not Sin. Choose life, not death. And yet most of us frequently choose poorly.

If the results are so disparate, why do people choose sin? Will you take the wage or grace? Do these life and death results cast shadows into the present or are they only eschatological? Are you experiencing God’s gift of eternal life? If you have accepted the gift, do you still appreciate it? Who are you serving, God or Sin?

You have a choice. Live or die.
Every breath is a choice.
Every minute is a choice.
To be or not to be. - Chuck Palahniuk (b. 1962), Survivor, p. 161

No Pain, No Gain? (Proverbs 3:11-12)

Complete: “The Lord reproves ___________________________________________________________.” Him whom He loves, as a father the son in whom he delights (Proverbs 3:12)

Proverbs 3:1-12 is a poem composed of six two-couplet (four-line) stanzas (Proverbs 3:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 7-8, 9-10, 11-12). It is the fourth section in Proverbs that adds the tender address of a parent instructing a child (Proverbs 1:8-9, 10-19, 2:1-22, 3:1-12). In fact, the unit is framed by paternal allusions (Proverbs 3:1, 11)

The passage progresses from general exhortations to the challenge of facing life’s struggles. After connecting righteousness with prosperity (Proverbs 3:9-10), the sage anticipates the natural question of suffering and answers it with the poem’s final instructions (Proverbs 3:11-12).

My son, do not reject the discipline of the Lord
Or loathe His reproof,
For whom the Lord loves He reproves,
Even as a father corrects the son in whom he delights. (Proverbs 3:11-12, NASB)

It is an appropriate ending as Proverbs 3:11-12 is an exemplar of a concluding proverb. Structurally, both the verse’s command and reason are expressed artistically as a chiasm.

The aphorism draws upon its own analogy of fatherly advice when it instructs that one should not reject discipline; it is evidence of paternal love. Proverbs 3:12 is the only proverb to envision God as a father figure. The author of Hebrews will later quote Proverbs 3:11-12 to demonstrate that suffering is no less than a sign of sonship (Hebrews 12:5-6). In invoking this parental imagery, the verse conveys a counter-intuitive truth: Suffering does not necessarily imply divine disfavor.

Instead, Proverbs argues that suffering may be divine chastening. Affliction might convey discipline, not punishment. The Hebrew yakach is translated “reprove” (ASV, ESV, NASB, NRSV, RSV), “correct” (CEV, KJV, NKJV, NLT) and “discipline” (HCSB, MSG, NIV). This word conveys instruction that may not only be verbal but also corporal (Proverbs 13:24, 22:15, 23:13).

Duane A. Garrett (b. 1953) defines:

While the idea of punishment is certainly present (cf. Job 5:17-18 and II Samuel 7:14), “discipline” primarily involves teaching or training rather than punishment for wrongdoing. It is analogous to military training, in which, although the threat of punishment is present, even stern discipline is not necessarily retribution for offenses. Hardship and correction are involved, however, which are always hard to accept. (Garrett, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs (New American Commentary),81)

Harold S. Kushner (b. 1935) paraphrases:

We are told...God treats us the way a wise and caring parent treats a naive child, keeping us from hurting ourselves, withholding something we may think we want, punishing us occasionally to make sure we understand that we have done something seriously wrong, and patiently enduring our temper tantrums at His “unfairness” in the confidence that we will one day mature and understand that it was all for our own good. “For whom the Lord loves, He chastises, even as a father does to the son he loves.” (Proverbs 3:12) (Kushner, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, 29-30)

The theme of growth through discipline in not unique in Proverbs (Proverbs 3:11-12, 10:17, 12:1, 13:18, 24, 14:9, 15:5, 10, 12, 32, 19:18, 20:30, 22:6, 15, 23:13-14, 28:4, 7, 9, 12, 29:15, 17-19, 21). This concept is also seen in Deuteronomy 8:5 (which uses the same root word for discipline), Eliphaz’s rebuke of Job (Job 5:17-20) and Hosea 11:1-4. It also parallels Egyptian wisdom found in the Insinger Papyrus: “Whatever hardship comes, place yourself in the hand of God in it” (Insinger Papyrus 20.12).

While this ideology is common in Proverbs, tackling suffering is not and when it does the book often takes the more traditional approach of connecting suffering and sin. Roland Murphy (1917-2002) notes:

Only here in Proverbs is the problem of suffering directly touched upon. The application of human discipline (as the sages understood, quite physical) to the Lord is a bold move..The book of Proverbs remains resolute in its assurance of material well-being for the wise and virtuous, despite the fact that adversity and suffering bore witness to the contrary. (Murphy, Proverbs (Word Biblical Commentary))

Leonard S. Kravitz (b. 1928) and Kerry M. Olitzky (1954) add:

Ths is the idea of yisurim shel ahavah (chastisements of love), which became an element of traditional theodicy. Undeserved suffering was viewed as a test of the sufferer. By embracing the suffering without questioning, the sufferers demonstrate their love for God. Just as children mature, they might come to understand past acts of parental discipline as manifestations of parental love—however unpleasant and unwelcome at the time such acts were administered—so a mature person would ultimately realize that suffering brings such insight is a manifestation of divine love. (Kravitz and Otlizky, Mishlei: A Modern Commentary on Proverbs, 30)

Interpreting every tragedy as divine correction, however, is dangerous. This is not the Bible’s only explanation of suffering and Bart D. Ehrman (b. 1955) expresses concerns in viewing it as a universal rationale:

One of the most common explanations [for suffering]...is that we have to understand that God is like a good parent, a heavenly father, and that he allows suffering into ours lives as a way of building our character or teaching us lessons on how we should live...I don’t think it’s one of the most common explanations found in the Bible, but it is there on occasion...In the book of Amos, for example, when God punishes the people for their sin, it is precisely as a kind of discipline, to teach them a lesson: they need to return to him and his ways. That is why, according to Amos, the nation has experienced famine, drought, pestilence, war, and death: God was trying to get his people to “return to me” (Amos 4:6-11)...This view would make sense to me if the punishment were not so severe, the discipline so harsh. Are we really to believe that God starves people to death in order to teach them a lesson? That he sends epidemics that destroy the body, mental diseases that destroy the mind, wars that destroy the nation, in order to teach people a lesson in theology? What kind of father is he if he maims, wounds, dismembers, tortures, torments, and kills his children—all in the interest of keeping discipline? What would we think of a human father who starved a child to death because she did something wrong, or who flogged a child nearly to death to help him see the error of his ways? Is the heavenly father that much worse than the worst human father we can imagine? I don’t find this view very convincing. (Ehrman, God’s Problem: How the Bible Fails to Answer Our Most Important Question—Why We Suffer, 264)

While chastening is not the Bible’s only explanation for suffering, Proverbs 3:11-12 reminds that the problem of pain goes far deeper than simple divine wrath.

Can you think of any examples where suffering led to personal growth? Are there any instances from your own life? What does Proverbs 3:11-12 say about God? Who does God discipline? Why does God discipline? How does the Lord reprove people? What does this say about God’s educational policies? Have you ever felt you were being chastened by God? Who has corrected you? Who do you correct? Is correction always evidence of caring?

Though every instance of suffering may not be chastening, suffering does not mean that God has ceased to care. The proverb asserts just the opposite: suffering is indicative of love. Though we do not tend to like correction, it is a hallmark of affection. Only someone who did not care would allow another to continue to live in error. Given this rationale, our suffering might be purposeful.

C.S. Lewis (1898-1963) compares:

Over a sketch made idly to amuse a child, an artist may not take much trouble; he may be content to let it go even though it is not exactly as he meant it to be. But over the great pictures of his life...he will take endless trouble—and would doubtless, thereby give endless trouble to the picture if it were sentient. One can imagine a sentient picture, after being rubbed and scrapped and re-commenced for the tenth time, wishing that it were only a thumbnail sketch whose making was over in a minute. In the same way, it is natural for us to wish that God had designed for us a less glorious and less arduous destiny; but then we are wishing not for more love but for less. (Lewis, The Problem of Pain, 42-43)

Bruce K. Waltke (b. 1930) explains:

The argument introduced by because (kî) to accept the strict discipline can be summarized in the oxymoron that discipline is “a severe mercy”. Although the reproof may be harsh, it is actually a sign of the LORD’s love, not his wrath, for it concerns those whom the LORD loves...This is “one of the deepest sayings in the Bible,” says Claude Goldsmid Montefiore [1858-1938]...When we complain of our sufferings we are not asking for more love, but for less. We are asking God not to take us so seriously (cf. Job 7:17-19, 10:20). (Waltke, The Book Of Proverbs: Chapters 1-15. (New International Commentary on the Old Testament), 249-50)

Raymond C. Ortlund, Jr. (b. 1949) encourages:

When we suffer, it isn’t God angrily taking from us; it is God lovingly reinvesting in us. Suffering feels like anger. It feels like loss. It feels like God has abandoned us. But the heroes of faith in Hebrews 11 suffered. Theirs was no country club religion. They trusted God with all their hearts, and some were tortured, killed, mistreated. Was God mad at them? No; he commended them (Hebrews 11:2, 6, 39). That is why it says, “God is not ashamed to be called their God” (Hebrews 11:16). He was proud of them. To use the language of Proverbs 3:12, he delighted in them. When you are suffering, here is what you must remember. Your sufferings are not evidence against you, nor are they evidence against God. It is the opposite. Your sufferings are proof that God your Father cherishes you. As Hebrews 12:7 says, quoting these verses, “God is treating you as sons.” Or as William Cowper [1731-1800] wrote, “Behind a frowning providence He hides a smiling face.” (Ortlund, Proverbs: Wisdom that Works (Preaching the Word), 71)

When things go wrong, do you immediately infer that someone up there hates you? When you suffer do you realize that God still loves you? Do you perceive discipline as a sign of love? What are the dangers in viewing every setback as a sign from God? How do you discern between discipline and punishment? Is suffering necessary for growth?

“God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: It is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” - C.S. Lewis (1898-1963), The Problem of Pain, p. 91

The Beautiful Gate (Acts 3:2)

By what gate was the lame man begging when Peter and John met him? The Beautiful Gate of the Temple (Acts 3:2)

After Jesus’ Ascension, the disciples continue to visit the temple (Acts 3:1). In fact, it is while going up to the temple that the first Christian miracle after Pentecost occurs, as Peter and John heal an invalid (Acts 3:1-10). The man’s condition is congenital and he has a well established routine of begging at the temple (Acts 3:2). This very specific sign is set at a particular time, 3 PM (Acts 3:1), and a precise place, the Gate Beautiful (Acts 3:2, 10).

And a man who had been lame from his mother’s womb was being carried along, whom they used to set down every day at the gate of the temple which is called Beautiful, in order to beg alms of those who were entering the temple. (Acts 3:2 NASB)

The naming of the gate adds local flavor to a story whose audience would likely not have been intimately familiar with the temple. In fact the genitive clause “of the temple” is added so that those unfamiliar with the temple would understand that the Beautiful Gate was a specific temple portal.

Despite Acts’ intention of pinpointing the locale, scholars can only speculate as to which of the temple gates is in question. Though Hellenistic Jews typically used “the temple” (to hieron) to refer to the entire temple complex and reserved the names “Holy Place” and “Holy of Holies” for the temple proper, Luke-Acts does not always adhere to this distinction (Luke 2:37, 19:45). As such, the narrative’s looser terminology cannot be depended on to diagnose even whether the miracle happened in the inner or outer courts.

There is an even bigger problem in locating the gate. While “Beautiful” is a virtually universal translation of the gate’s name (ASV, CEV, ESV, HCSB, KJV, MSG, NASB, NIV, NKJV, NLT, NRSV, RSV), this identifier does not occur anywhere outside of Acts (Acts 3:2, 10). The two primary sources regarding the temple’s features are Josephus [37-100] and an extensive description in the tractate Middot (m. Midd. 1:3-5). Neither refers to the Beautiful Gate but both sources do provide clues as to its identity.

Josephus tallies ten gates which serviced the temple: four along the north, four along the south and two towards the east (Bellum Judaicum 5.5.2). I. Howard Marshall (b. 1934) reduces the potential candidates:

There are three possibilities: (1) The ‘Shushan’ Gate which was on the east side of the wall enclosing the whole of the temple; it gave access from outside the temple to the Court of Gentiles. (2) Within the Court of the Gentiles was the Court of Women, to which there was an access to the east side; only Israelite men and women were allowed within this court. Josephus tells us that the ‘Nicanor’ Gate (otherwise known as the Corinthian Gate, and made of bronze) was situated here, and most scholars regard this as the Beautiful Gate. (3) From the Court of Women a further gate led to the Court of Israel, into which only Jewish men were admitted. The rabbinic sources call this the Nicanor Gate, but there is some evidence that their picture of the temple is a confused one. Most scholars adopt view (2). Christian tradition from the fifth century favours...view (1), but it has been pointed out that the east gate of the temple complex would have been a poor place for collecting alms; far more people would enter the temple from the west side, direct from the city. (Marshall, Acts (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries), 87-88)

As Marshall states, traditionally the Beautiful Gate was connected with the Shushan Gate. This is problematic on several levels. Gerhard Krodel (1926-2005) demonstrates:

Christian tradition identified it with the Shushan gate, located on the east side of the Outer Court, opposite the Mount of Olives, permitting entry from Kidron Valley. Interpreters have pointed out that this gate would be a poor place to bring a lame beggar since the access is steep and most people would enter the temple area directly from the west side. (Krodel, Acts (Augsburg Commentary on the New Testament), 96)

Included among the “most people” who would not enter from that gate are Peter and John.

The majority of scholars favor identifying the Nicanor Gate with the Beautiful Gate. A burial inscription found on the Mount of Olives attributes its endowment to an Alexandrian Jew named Nicanor. It is uncertain when Nicanor funded the gate’s construction, but presumably post-Herod. The Mishnah records a tradition of a “miracle” associated with the gate (Tosephta Sotah 2:4).

The Nicanor Gate served as the main eastern entrance to the Court of the Gentiles, the largest and busiest of the temple courts. It also separated the Court of Gentiles from the Court of Women, the place of assembly for services. This would provide a high traffic area for the beggar and for the purposes of the story, the widest publicity for the evangelists’ actions.

Its designation as “beautiful” indicates that the gate could be easily distinguished from others and the Nicanor Gate fits that bill. Its materials were different from its peers, massive (fifty cubits high, forty wide) and featured huge double doors. According to a note in t. Yoma 2.4, “it was as beautiful as gold.”

C.K. Barrett (1917-2011) explains:

Of the Temple gates Josephus writes that ‘nine were completely overlaid with gold and silver, as were also their door-posts; but one, that outside the sanctuary, was of Corinthian bronze, and far exceeded in value those plated with silver and set in gold’ (War 5.201). This gate is usually identified with the Nicanor Gate, see Middoth 2.3: ‘All the gates that were there had been changed [and overlaid] with gold, save only the doors of the Nicanor Gate, for with them a miracle...had happened; and some say, because their bronze shown like gold...This passage unfortunately is by no means clear; the gate in question may be ‘the gate between the court of the Gentiles and the court of the women, or between the court of the women and the court of the men’ (Lake, Beginnings of Christianity, 5.483). Kirsopp Lake [1872-1946]...prefers the former. But is the Nicanor, or Corinthian, Gate that which Luke means by the Beautiful Gate? The description given by both Josephus and the Rabbis seem to warrant the identification, but it is not explicit; and it is well to remember that ὡραιος does not normally mean beautiful...A traditional view is that Luke’s gate is to be identified with the Shushan Gate (so called because on it was portrayed the palace of Shushan; Middoth 1.3; Kelim 17.9), situated like the Nicanor Gate on the eastern side of the Temple...The tradition is not ancient, and the Shushan Gate was no place for a beggar to sit, since it would be used only by those entering the Temple from the Mount of Olives or from villages on the eastern side of the city and not by those who approached from the city itself. The fact is that no ancient source mentions the Beautiful Gate (even if ὡραια is a corruption of aurea, golden, we can do no better), and we do not know where it was located. The Nicanor Gate is probably the best guess (Barrett, Acts 1-14 (International Critical Commentary), 179-80)

Whatever gate is in question, the backdrop of the story sits in stark contrast to the man who has become a fixture at the Beautiful Gate. His was not considered a beautiful life. His nasty condition is incongruous with his opulent location where he is left to do the only thing he can: beg. The religious pilgrims might have viewed him as an eyesore to the site’s innate beauty; a beautiful gate lined with an ugly sight. In modern real estate terms, the beggar might have devalued the property.

For the unnamed beggar, the Beautiful Gate was a great spot for commerce, like a modern prostitute with the best street corner (not that I would know personally). His modern real estate appraisal of the Beautiful Gate might be summarized as, “Location, location, location.”

Robert H. Gundry (b. 1932) analyzes:

For several reasons the gate makes a good place to ask for them [alms]: (1) a large number of worshipers enter and exit the gate; (2) its being a gate of the temple puts the comers and goers in a religious frame of mind; and (3) charitable giving formed an important part of Jewish piety. Will Peter and John fulfill this religious obligation? (Gundry, Commentary on the New Testament)

John Phillips (b. 1927) envisions:

It was...one would hope a place of bounty. The man sat there “to ask alms of them that entered into the temple.” If there was one place more than another where an able-bodied man might be presumed to have a generous feeling towards his less fortunate neighbor, surely it would be here. We note that the beggar’s eyes were fixed on those going into the temple. On the way in, a person’s thoughts would be more sharply focused on the nature and character of God, perhaps, than on the way out. The superstitious, hoping to propitiate God and secure His goodwill, might be more disposed to drop a coin or two in the beggar’s palm. Or so the approaching worshiper might think...If a man must beg, this man or his friends seem to have chosen a good spot. (Phillips, Exploring Acts: An Expository Commentary, 66)

Giving alms was a primary component of Jewish religious life and the pilgrims would have been extremely conscious of this duty, much like a patient brushing their teeth before frequenting the dentist (Sirach 3:20, 7:10, 29:12; Tobit 1:3, 16, 2:14, 4:7-11, 12:8-9, 14:8;11, II Enoch 63:1-2; Rabbinic: Mishnah Pe’ah 1.1; Pirke Aboth 1:2; Aboth de Rabbi Nathan 4; Babylonian Talmud Berakoth 5b, 8a; Babylonian Talmud Shabbath 156b; Babylonian Talmud Rosh ha Shanah 16b; Babylonian Talmud Gittin. 7a-b.) The belief that God honors this practice carried over to Christianity (Matthew 6:2-4; Luke 11:41, 12:33; Acts 3:3, 10, 9:36,10:2, 4, 31, 24:17). While there are references to alms being asked for at synagogues (Cleomedes, De motu circulari 2.1, 91; Artemidorus, Onirocritica 3.53) there are no other texts that show that this occurred at the temple. In more than one way this episode at the Beautiful Gate is one of a kind.

What goes on at the Beautiful Gate? Why does Acts present this miracle with such a precise setting? Why does it use an otherwise unknown name to identify the location? What is the biggest contrast you have seen between a tragedy and its context? What do you find yourself begging God for? If your life situation forced you to beg to survive, where would you go to do so? Would you want to beg in a beautiful spot? Would it even matter to you? What made this gate “Beautiful”?

The gate was not only as ideal location for begging, it represented the farthest point the beggar could go as invalids were not allowed to enter the temple beyond the precinct of the Gentiles (Leviticus 21:17-20; II Samuel 5:8). Tragically, the man could stop at the gate but never enter.

Derek W.H. Thomas (b. 1953) acknowledges:

He had never walked in his entire life—but more especially, he has never walked beyond this gate into the nearer presence of God! Probably, ever since he was young, he had been utterly dependent on the kindness of others to bring him to the temple to beg. Folks like him know the kindness that religious people often show. Thus, the crippled and indigent tend to show up around churches. There was no social security or government help of any kind. They were dependent on the generosity of these worshipers in the temple. (Thomas, Acts (Reformed Expository Commentary), 69)

Though he had no access to the Holy of Holies, the beggar at the Beautiful Gate had perhaps already unknowingly encountered God incarnate depending on how long he had held this spot. A minority tradition asserts that Jesus entered the temple through the Beautiful Gate.

Though there is no record of any encounter with Jesus, the beggar encounters Christ through the disciples who house his Spirit (Acts 3:6) and on this day, the beggar receives more than he bargains for: complete healing (Acts 3:6-10).

Charles W. Koller (1896-1983) reminds:

Like Peter and John, we probably pass men and women on our way to church every Sunday whose need for help is no less real and urgent than that of the lame man at the beautiful gate. There may not be poverty or physical infirmity, but needs that lie far deeper. The most obvious need of the man was for silver and gold. His deeper needs were not mentioned as he made his appeal for alms. And it was in terms of silver and gold that people were responding. Yet this was the kind of help with which the afflicted man might well dispense if given something better. Silver and gold, he had been receiving for forty years; but it left him as he was—a helpless, hopeless cripple, carried by others, begging for alms to hold body and soul together. Silver and god, anybody could give him; but it remained for Peter and John to provide him with something better. (Koller, How to Preach Without Notes, 240)

And this “something better” may be the “beautiful” that gave the Gate its moniker. Joseph A. Fitzmyer (b. 1920) speculates:

Perhaps the name of the gate is more important to the Lucan account than one normally realizes. It may be the “Beautiful” Gate because of what is going to happen to the cripple in the name of Jesus Christ. Luke depicts him carried into the Temple through the gate in order to stress the symbolic change that will come into his life. (Fitzmyer, The Acts of the Apostles (The Anchor Yale Bible), 278)

And this beautiful story all occurred because Peter an John stopped and looked, really looked, at the man who was overshadowed by the Beautiful Gate (Acts 3:4).

Who do you pass en route to worship? Do you know any beggars? What, if anything, do you give them? What locations would you describe as beautiful? What locations do you associate with beautiful acts of God? What is beautiful in your life?

“The perception of beauty is a moral test.” - Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), Journal, June 21, 1852

King Saul’s Baggage (I Samuel 10:22)

Where was Saul when he was chosen to be king? Hiding among the baggage (I Samuel 10:22)

After the Israelites demand a king “like all the nations” (I Samuel 8:1-22), Saul is chosen by God as the nation’s first monarch (I Samuel 9:1-10:8, 10:17-27). Initially only Samuel, Israel’s last judge and de facto national leader, and the king-to-be are privy to Saul’s destiny. Then, Samuel calls a national assembly at Mizpah (I Samuel 10:18) where the new king will be selected before the people and be officially presented (I Samuel 10:17-27).

The process by which Saul is chosen is unclear as he is selected without being physically present. It can be determined that the nation is aligned by tribe and that the choice is presented as a process of elimination. Though the method seems random by modern standards, it was acceptable during the period and seen as a way of insuring God’s will.

Anticipation builds as the options dwindle to Saul’s tribe (Benjamin) and clan (Matri) but the proceedings are quickly reduced to an anticlimax as Saul is nowhere to be found (I Samuel 10:20-21). The man who is assured of being the #1 pick in the draft has chosen not to attend. The expectant people are put into a quandary and they ask a question which reads literally, “Is anyone else as yet come here?” (I Samuel 10:22). After human efforts fail, God outs Saul - the would-be-king is hiding among the baggage.

Therefore they inquired further of the Lord, “Has the man come here yet?” So the Lord said, “Behold, he is hiding himself by the baggage.” (I Samuel 10:22, NASB)

Peculiarly, instead of putting himself forward when presented, Saul instead steps back, hiding by the baggage. The Hebrew, k@liy, clearly has a broad range of meaning as it is translated alternately “baggage” (ASV, CEV, ESV, NASB, MSG, NLT, NRSV, RSV), “supplies” (HCSB, NIV),“equipment” (NKJV) and “stuff” (KJV).

P. Kyle McCarter, Jr (b. 1945) designates that the:

Hebrew hakkēlîm...can refer to almost any kind of equipment or paraphernalia, so that exactly where Saul was hiding is something we cannot know with certainty. He may have been concealed in a stockpile of weapons or a store of cultic utensils or, as many translators have supposed, a collection of baggage. (McCarter, I Samuel (Anchor Bible), 193)

The baggage may have been the necessary provisions for the national convention. Ronald F. Youngblood (b. 1931) suspects that it is indicative of the people’s high expectations:

The reluctant “leader” was subsequently found hiding among the “baggage” (I Samuel 10:22; the Hebrew word in this specific sense is elsewhere translated “supplies,” always in a military context, perhaps hinting at the major task that the people had hoped Saul would enthusiastically assume; cf. I Samuel 17:22, 25:13, 30:24; Isaiah 10:28). (Tremper Longman III [b. 1952], The Expositor’s Bible Commentary: Volume 3, 110)

Regardless of what the term entails, Saul’s hiding place is a good one as the Israelites cannot find him without divine intervention.

A more pertinent question than where Saul is hiding is why the nation’s potential leader is lurking among its supplies. Some have speculated that with time to contemplate this life changing event, the future king is getting cold feet. Timidity would be a natural response to such responsibility. A Targum reference claims that Saul slips out for prayer and Bible Study. Most, however, interpret Saul’s absence in one of two polarizing ways: commendable modesty or a flaw in character.

Some have viewed Saul’s action as evidence that he possesses the necessary modesty to be Israel’s king (I Samuel 9:21). Prominent rabbis Rashi (1040-1105) and Radaq (1160-1235) support this theory. Saul’s absence is not necessarily incriminating as David, Israel’s model king and Saul’s successor, will also initially be absent when being chosen (I Samuel 16:10-12). Even so, given the tragic way Saul’s life will unfold, it is difficult for many to see his truancy as a sign of the king’s goodness.

Many have viewed Saul’s concealment as unwillingness to lead. From this perspective, it is Saul’s personal baggage that leads the leader into the nation’s baggage. Reluctant to take the position, Saul’s physical position screams, “Not me!”

If this is the case, Richard D. Phillips (b. 1960) understands Saul’s trepidation:

The context strongly suggests fear instead of humility as the reason that Saul hid himself. And who can blame him, since he was being called to step into God’s place! Perhaps Saul could see that God was angry and that his selection was God’s judgment on the nation. Given the difficulty of the task, we can hardly blame him for trying to get away. Nonetheless, Saul’s selfish neglect of duty foreshadows a pattern that will be repeated during his kingship. The people of Israel had desired a king who would give them the leadership edge enjoyed by the worldly nations, no longer willing to rely simply on God’s saving power. Here, then, is the kind of self-serving cowardice that they will have to get used to under human kings! (Phillips, 1 Samuel (Reformed Expository Commentary),163)

Robert Alter (b. 1935) critiques:

This detail is virtually a parody of the recurring motif of the prophet-leader’s unwillingness to accept his mission. Saul the diffident farm boy had expressed a sense of unworthiness for the high office Samuel conferred on him. Now, confronted by the assembled tribes and “trapped” by the process of lot drawing, he tries to flee the onus of kingship, farcically hiding in the baggage. (Alter, The David Story: A Translation with Commentary of 1 and 2 Samuel, 48)

From this perspective, Saul lacks true humility which would include depending on God. This stance is supported as fear fits the paranoia that will characterize Saul’s life. Though his action is highly irregular, it is typical of Saul.

Robert D. Bergen (b. 1954) explains that this inauspicious start is fitting:

Saul’s actions, however off, were consistent with the portrayal of Saul to this point; previously the king-designate had shut out both his servant (I Samuel 9:27) and his uncle (I Samuel 10:16) from any knowledge of his destiny. Saul’s vacancy at his own coronation suitably foreshadows a reign that would vacate responsibilities associated with the exercise of godly rule and perhaps suggest the lack of wisdom of those who preferred such a king to Yahweh. At the same time, divine assistance in the search for Saul reinforced the conclusion that Saul was indeed the Lord’s answer to Israel’s demand for a king “like the other nations.” (Bergen, , 2 Samuel (New American Commentary), 132)

Clinical psychologist David A. Stoop (b. 1937) concurs, characterizing:

Saul’s fearful posture toward life is...seen in his response to being publicly anointed as king. He simply wants to avoid the whole process. The way he attempts to avoid being anointed king in front of all Israel is to hide. (Stoop, What’s He So Angry About?, 80)

Whatever his motives for hiding, when discovered, Saul assumes the crown. Saul’s reluctance is completely ignored and the people accept him as king (I Samuel 10:23-24). On cue, they chant, “Long live the king!” (I Samuel 10:24, NASB).

Despite his awkward discovery, Saul’s impressive stature makes an even more immediate first impression. The only descriptor mentioned is that he stands a head taller than any of his peers: Saul is tall (I Samuel 9:2, 10:23). This detail adds to the story’s humor as the nation’s tallest man is theoretically the most difficult to hide, comparable to 7'6" Yao Ming attempting to hide in a Chinese national assembly. Aside from Saul, impressive height is a quality reserved for non-covenant people and Saul’s more ideal successor, David, will not share this trait (I Samuel 16:7). In picking Saul, the Israelites receive what they ask for - a king like all the nations (I Samuel 8:5) and his selection foreshadows the typical lack of godly commitment exhibited by most of Israel’s monarchs.

What motivates Saul’s hiding, modesty or timidity? Who is he hiding from? If Saul does not want the position, why does he attend the convention at all? Why would God select a king that did not want the responsibility? Have you ever known anyone to turn down a promotion? Have you ever gotten a position that you didn’t want? Would you follow a leader who did not want her position? Would you want to be a monarch? Are you currently hiding from anything?

Whatever Saul’s reasons, his concealment has a significant consequence: it provides another opportunity for God to demonstrate divine involvement in his selection. It is God, not the Israelites, who finds Saul (I Samuel 10:22). Despite one of the implicit desires in asking for a monarch being independence, once again, the Israelites are reliant upon God. And they have enough access to God to use divine assistance to find the ruler they have chosen instead of God.

Eugene H. Peterson (b. 1932) comments:

Once chosen, Saul is nowhere to be found! He has gone into hiding. Did that last sermon by Samuel put the fear of God in him? Did he have a premonition that despite all the signs of God’s Spirit in his choosing, the kingship was flawed from the start by the people’s God-rejecting ambitions, and it was going to be a rocky road ahead? The story does not provide us with Saul’s motives for hiding. What it makes quite clear, though, is that this whole king business was going to be a mixed bag, involving both God’s mercy and God’s judgment...And here is a telling detail: They are now forced to pray to God to help them find the king they have just chosen with God’s help, but against God’s will (I Samuel 10:22). God graciously condescends to do for them what they cannot do for themselves. (Peterson, First and Second Samuel (Westminster Bible Companion), 66)

If the Israelites are close enough to God to find the concealed candidate, why do they seek a king? Is your trust in God’s leadership or in human rulers?

“Well, he’s always the tallest man in the room. He’s bound to end up leading something.” - Benjamin Franklin (Tom Wilkinson) to John Adams (Paul Giamatti) after Adams exclaims that George Washington is a “natural leader” in the HBO miniseries John Adams (2008)

Love Who? (Leviticus 19:18)

In what book does “Love thy neighbor as thy self” first appear? Leviticus (Leviticus 19:18)

When Jesus is questioned about the greatest commandment, he cites two Scriptures from Deuteronomy and Leviticus, books many modern Christians treat as obsolete (Deuteronomy 6:4-5; Leviticus 19:18).

“Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?” And He said to him, “‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the great and foremost commandment. The second is like it, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments depend the whole Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 22:36-40, NASB)

This response has become known as the Great Commandment.

The original context of “love our neighbor as yourself” is a section on holy living in Leviticus which more specifically addresses duties towards one’s neighbor (Leviticus 19:11-18). The unit builds from representative behaviors to the excerpt that Jesus cites, advancing specific examples before finally addressing the root cause: one’s general attitude towards her neighbor. Though commonly referenced out of context, the verse’s full force is demonstrated only when paired with its preceding verse (Leviticus 19:17).

‘You shall not hate your fellow countryman in your heart; you may surely reprove your neighbor, but shall not incur sin because of him. You shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge against the sons of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself; I am the Lord. (Leviticus 19:17-18, NASB)

Together the two verses form a single unit with parallel ideologies. Positioned at its core, this admonition is the key verse in its chapter and in many ways the entire Levitical system. Legendary Rabbi Akiba (40-137) declared Leviticus 19:18 to be foundational, a “great principle in the Torah” (Genesis Rabah 24:7). The command is validated by God’s own identity, the ancient version of “Because I said so!”

Since the eighteenth century this Scripture has been viewed as the theoretical framework behind Jesus’ Golden Rule (Matthew 7:12; Luke 6:31).

The believer is instructed to love her neighbor but to comply those two terms must first be defined. Gordon J. Wenham (b. 1943) acknowledges:

Love and neighbor are as wide-ranging in their scope and meaning in Hebrew as the corresponding English terms. Jesus and Paul were not stretching the meaning of these verses in claiming that all our other duties toward our fellow men were summed up in this command (Matthew 22:39-40; Romans 13:9). “What every man’s mind ought to be towards his neighbor could not be better expressed in many pages than in this one sentence.” (Wenham, The Book of Leviticus (New International Commentary on the Old Testament), 269)

The term love in a legal setting like Leviticus carries a different connotation from its everyday use. Mary Douglas (1921-2007) defines:

In a famous passage Leviticus requires that a person should love his neighbour as himself (Leviticus 19:18, 34). And in the same chapter there is a command not to hate your brother. Abraham Malamat [1922-2010] gives a lucid explanation of what is meant by these commands, showing that on linguistic grounds the words should be translated in a much more concrete way, more as an injunction to be useful, be helpful to the neighbour, take care of them, rather than to develop a particular kind of warm feeling. In English a closer translation than ‘love’, which has now got to be a word for an emotion, would be ‘cherish’, which implies taking care, providing for a beloved object...The same view is developed by Yochanan Muffs [1932-2009]’ essay on ancient Near Eastern legal documents. Muffs found that expressions such as love and joy when used in legal contexts have nothing to do with emotion, but convey the specific legal idea of free and uncoerced willingness. (Douglas, Leviticus As Literature, 42-43)

Love implies action, not merely a feeling.

The object of the believer’s love is her neighbor. The parameters of this term are broader than the word’s use in the vernacular. Jesus uses the Parable of the Good Samaritan to illustrate the scope of this term (Luke 10:25-37).

Samuel E. Balentine (b. 1950) clarifies:

The word neighbor refers to a wide range of persons with whom Israel would have had relationships. The list of ethical admonitions in Leviticus 19:9-18 uses no fewer than eight words to describe the persons Israel is obligated to care for: “poor” (Leviticus 19:10), “alien” (Leviticus 19:10), “neighbor” (Leviticus 19:13), “laborer” (Leviticus 19:13), the “deaf” (Leviticus 19:14), the “blind” (Leviticus 19:14), “poor” (Leviticus 19:15), “fellow citizen” (Leviticus 19:15, 17; NRSV “neighbor/people”). The inclusiveness of this list indicates that the “neighbor” is not limited to the peer with whom one shares a certain social status. It is also the disadvantaged person shunted to the edges of society, especially those persons the community may be tempted to ignore, perhaps even abuse, for economic, political, or physical reasons. (Balentine, Leviticus (Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching), 165)

The believer is to act loving towards everyone.

Is Leviticus in your personal canon? Can love be commanded? How would you define the terms love and neighbor? What is the connection between loving others and loving God? Is there anyone excluded from Jesus’ definition of neighbor? Do you love others? How do you live out your love for others? Is self-love a prerequisite to loving another?

The command to love others is grounded in loving oneself. Reuven P. Bulka (b. 1944) writes:

A...well known principles within Judaism, “love your neighbor as yourself...” (Leviticus 19:18)...is rooted in a positive appreciation of the self. The Biblical charge, which is considered an encompassing principle in the Judaic lifestyle (Jerusalem Talmud, Nedarim, 9:14), equates the love that we should have of others with the love that we should have of our own selves. Evidently, an individual who is sour on the self will project accordingly in the encounters with others. (Bulka, Critical Psychological Issues: Judaic Perspectives, 56)

The cliché that “hurt people hurt people” applies to the ramifications of not loving oneself.

The standard by which one is to love others is “as yourself.” James R. Beck (b. 1942) notes the prominence of this phrase:

The phrase occurs in both Leviticus 19:18 and Leviticus 19:34...In the Greek New Testament, this phrase as yourself (hos eautou) occurs seven additional times in connection with the command to love others. Jesus quotes Leviticus 19:18 in its entirety to the rich young ruler (Matthew 19:19) and to the questioning lawyer (Matthew 22:39, with parallels in Mark 12:31 and Luke 10:27). As yourself also occurs in the quotations of Leviticus 19:18 that occur in Romans 13:9, Galatians 5:14 and James 2:8. Clearly, God expects us to love others (neighbors and aliens) as we love ourselves. The command appears a total of nine times in Scripture, a remarkable repetition that the Spirit may have designed for the purpose of impressing these truths indelibly on our minds and hearts. (Beck, Jesus & Personality Theory: Exploring the Five-Factor Model, 198-199)

This criterion has produced many questions. Erhard S. Gerstenberger (b. 1932) asks:

What...is meant by the universally familiar and often-cited sentence, “love your neighbor as yourself”? Is it supposed to strengthen a person’s own feeling of self-worth? Does it ironically accept human egoism as a given and demand utopian, unrealizable altruism? Is it trying merely to confirm the equal worth of a person’s fellow human beings and from this perspective inculcate a certain obligation to solidarity? (Gerstenberger, Leviticus: A Commentary (Old Testament Library), 272)

As Gerstenberger alludes, many have seen self-love as implicitly advised in Leviticus 19:18. Gary W. Demarest (b. 1926) warns:

Many contemporary expositions emphasize the loving of oneself as the first step toward loving one’s neighbor. However, this may result in a self-love that never gets to the loving of others...One of the best ways to deal with a negative self-image is to act intentionally in love toward some one else, no matter how one feels about oneself. This is surely what God is calling us to do in this verse. The literal meaning of the Hebrew does not mean that we are to love others just as we love ourselves, but, rather, we are to love others as people like ourselves: people who are hurting, scared, insecure, guilty, longing to be noticed, loved, and cared for. Far from an invitation to preoccupation with how we feel about ourselves, this is a mandate to self-giving love. It really translated into what we have come to call the Golden Rule: “Whatever you want men to do to you, do also to them” (Matthew 7:12). (Demarest, Leviticus (Mastering the Old Testament), 222)

Robert L. Thomas (b. 1938) adamantly concurs, claiming that the verse appeals to an underlying assumption that we already love ourselves:

The psychological rejoinder to that straightforward meaning is that one cannot love others until loving oneself. That, however, reads an integrative motif into the verse once again. The “as yourself” phrase says that a person does love self, not that he should love self. Furthermore, the psychologist errs when saying that the inevitable self-love is “appropriate self-love, self-care, and self-appreciation.” On the contrary, it is rather a person’s natural compulsion to promote his or her own personal welfare in every facet of life. That compulsion does not have to be learned and may have to be dispensed with as a requirement of Christian discipleship (Matthew 10:37-39, 16:24-25; Mark 8:34-35; Luke 9:23-24; John 12:25). (Thomas, Evangelical Hermeneutics: The New Versus the Old, 130)

An equally viable interpretation is that “as yourself’ means that we are to love others as those who are like us. W.H. Bellinger, Jr. (b. 1949) explains:

The translation to love the neighbor as yourself, that is, as you love yourself or as if the person were you, is appropriate and fits the context of the sayings in the gospels. It would also be possible to take the preposition related to the neighbor: Love your neighbor who is like you, either like you in the narrow sense of a fellow Israelite or like you in the sense of being human just as you are. This last possibility might find some support in Leviticus 19:34 where the alien is to be loved “like you.” (Bellinger, Leviticus, Numbers (New International Biblical Commentary),105)

This interpretation is seen in Martin Buber (1878-1965)’s translation of Leviticus 19:18, 34: “Be loving to your fellow man [insider and outsider], as to one who is just like you.'”

Which interpretation of “as yourself” do you prefer? Do you believe that Leviticus 19:18 promotes self-love? Is there a better universal standard for promoting love than one’s rational self interest? What is the connection between loving oneself and loving another? Do you love yourself?

“Self-love is not opposed to the love of other people. You cannot really love yourself and do yourself a favor without doing people a favor, and vise versa.” - Karl Menninger (1893-1990), American psychiatrist

Nic(odemus) at Night (John 3:2)

Who came to Jesus by night? Nicodemus (John 3)

Early in Jesus’ ministry, he has a clandestine encounter with a Pharisee named Nicodemus (John 3:1-21). The incident is only recorded in John’s gospel where Pharisees are presented as antagonists to Jesus with only two exceptions (John 3:1, 9:16). Nicodemus is also a member of the Sanhedrin which indicates that he is a member of a high social strata (John 3:1). Given this background it is perhaps not surprising that Nicodemus chooses to meet with Jesus under cover of night (John 3:2).

Now there was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews; this man came to Jesus by night and said to Him, “ Rabbi, we know that You have come from God as a teacher; for no one can do these signs that You do unless God is with him.” (John 3:1-2, NASB)

Nicodemus, a prominent religious man who engages Jesus by night stands in contrast to Jesus’ meeting with the Samaritan woman at the well, a disenfranchised woman who meets Jesus in broad daylight, in the next chapter (John 4:1-26, 39-42). Despite their differences, both serve as foils for Jesus.

As was customary, Nicodemus addresses Jesus with diplomacy. Though traveling alone Nicodemus speaks in the plural. Despite his grammar, the ensuing conversation lends itself to a personal visit not official business. Presumably intrigued by Jesus’ miracle working, Nicodemus’ limitations are seen in his flattering opening statement as he immediately attempts to fit Jesus into a ready-made worldview (John 3:2).

Robert Kysar (b. 1934) explains:

He honors Jesus as a Rabbi and a teacher come from God, but in terms of John’s view of Christ such titles fail to penetrate the identity of the revealer. The affirmation that God is with Jesus ironically contrasts to Jesus’ true identity, the Father’s unique Son. The signs done by Jesus are not sufficient grounds for belief in him in any full sense. Signs arouse curiosity but not mature faith. (Kysar, John (Augsburg Commentary on the New Testament), 52)

The gospel stresses that the rendezvous occurs at night. Daniel B. Wallace (b. 1952) analyzes the case:

Had the evangelist used the dative, the point would have been that Nicodemus came at a particular point in the night. With the genitive, however, the emphasis is in the kind of time in which Nicodemus came to see the Lord. The gospel writer puts a great deal of emphasis on dark vs. light; the genitive for time highlights it here. In the least we can say that Nicodemus is not cast in a good light (contrast John 19:39)! (Wallace, Greek Grammar Beyond the Basics: An Exegetical Syntax of the New Testament, 123-24)

The inclusion of this detail invites the question as to why the Pharisee chooses to call at night. Though the text does not state his reasons, many theories have been posited. Most have seen the observation as more than just a temporal reference to establish the setting or evidence that Nicodemus is too consumed by his own ministry to visit during the day.

Some suggest that night was the typical time for scribal discussion (Str-B 2, 419-20). The Jews at Qumran spent one-third of every night studying their beliefs (1QS 6:7). While nighttime learning might have been commonplace, this rationale does not fit John’s context.

Others note the prudence of the after hours visit. In meeting Jesus at night, Nicodemus avoids the crowds which provides the opportunity for a longer, more uninterrupted conversation. It also insures privacy and an intimacy that fosters an honest, real conversation free from the political pressures that an audience and their respective positions might yield. Coming at night breaks down barriers and facades that come with a public meeting.

Many have suspected rational self interest as the reason for Nicodemus’ timing: he did not want to lose professional credibility by openly identifying with Jesus. The cover of darkness shields him from the temple authorities. His colleagues would not understand why a member of the educated elite would seek out an itinerant preacher, much less lose an argument to him. This explanation parallels king Zedekiah seeking a private audience with the imprisoned prophet Jeremiah (Jeremiah 37:16-21). Were he discovered, Nicodemus would have a lot of explaining to do and likely need to answer far more questions from his peers than he asks of Jesus. In short, associating with Jesus is a bad career move for Nicodemus and unlike Jesus’ disciples, he is unwilling to risk everything for the radical preacher (Matthew 19:27-29; Mark 10:28-30; Luke 18:28-29).

Some have seen embarrassment as the issue behind the nighttime meeting as this timing provides secrecy (John 19:38). Nicodemus is uncomfortable in Jesus’ presence, treating Jesus like the guilty pleasure CD that you enjoy but do not play when your peers are present. Even today, many professors (people expected to have answers) do not wish to be seen asking questions. According to some, Nicodemus simply does not wish to be seen with Jesus.

Some have interpreted Nicodemus as sincere, but cautious. He is a reluctant seeker who is not yet ready for public support, instead wishing to administer an honest examination before making a public profession. Part of Nicodemus wants to believe and he at least gives the itinerant preacher the time of night.

In a similar vein, J. Louis Martyn (b. 1925) has postulated a “two-level” hypothesis whereby Nicodemus is representative of a group of “secret believers” who cloak their allegiance to Christ (Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel, 113). Others also conceal their affiliations and Nicodemus is an exemplary of a more open element of the Pharisees (John 12:42, 19:38; Acts 5:34-39). For Martyn, Nicodemus symbolizes both this group’s belief that Jesus could be the long awaited wonder working Mosaic prophet (Deuteronomy 18:15-18) and their fear of being cast out of the synagogue for that belief (John 9:22, 34, 12:42, 16:2).

Herman N. Ridderbos (1909-2007) counters:

One must guard against inferring from the fact that Nicodemus went to Jesus by night that he represents a certain type of faith, namely that of the “secret believers,” a typology that is supposed to govern unfavorably his conduct from one end of the Gospel to the other. In the “two-level” theory the “figure” of Nicodemus even develops into an entire class of secret believers in the later synagogue with a “midrashic” christology of their own...The entire notion that in the Fourth Gospel Nicodemus represents the model of the crypto-believer in which the definitive break between synagogue and church is mirrored lacks support in the texts. Whatever moved Nicodemus to come to Jesus by night...it was certainly not that in secret he had already in some way committed himself to faith in Jesus as the Messiah (Ridderbos, The Gospel of John: A Theological Commentary, 283)

Many have seen the reference to night as reflecting Nicodemus’ spiritual condition; the outer darkness resonates with Nicodemus’ inner lightlessness. The polarity between light and darkness is a prominent theme in John’s gospel. Jesus is introduced (and as such has already been described) as light (John 1:4-5, 8).

In contrast, elsewhere in the gospel, night appears to have negative associations (John 9:4, 11:10, 13:30). Traitorous Judas is the only other character in John’s story who appears at night (John 13:30). Colin G. Kruse (b. 1938) illumines:

Elsewhere in the Gospel the word ‘night’ appears to have negative connotations. In John 9:4 Jesus urges people to work in the ‘day’, for the ‘night’ is coming when no-one can work. In John 11:10 he says that those who walk in the ‘night’ stumble because they have no light. In John 13:30, after receiving the bread from Jesus’ hand, Judas went out into the ‘night’ to betray him. Bearing these things in mind, the statement in John 3:2 that Nicodemus came ‘by night’ suggests he was in a state of spiritual darkness when he approached Jesus. (Kruse, John (Tyndale New Testament Commentaries, 104-105)

Gail R. O’Day (b. 1954) adds:

In a gospel that from its opening verses emphasizes the contrast between light and darkness (John 1:4-5), this reference to the time of Nicodemus’s visit is more than an incidental detail. The visit under the cloak of darkness strikes a discordant note with the description of Nicodemus’ status in John 3:1. As a Pharisee and leader of the Jews, Nicodemus is a public figure, but he does not come to Jesus publicly. Nicodemus’s night visit suggests that he wants to hide himself, and thus introduces a note of tension into the narrative. That Nicodemus comes in darkness points to possible tension between Nicodemus and the community with whom his credentials so tightly link him, but also indicates possible tension between Nicodemus and Jesus. (O’Day, The Word Disclosed: Preaching the Gospel of John, 16-17)

Gerald L. Borchert (b. 1932) concludes:

Although seasonal and day/night designations can properly be understood as time notations in this Gospel, they usually are more importantly also symbolic representations of the spiritual temperature of the people in the story (e.g., John 10:22-23, 11:9-10, 13:30). As indicated in the Prologue, light and darkness are conceived as opposing principles (John 1:4-5) with darkness in John illustrating the negative aspects such as the realm of Satan, error, evil, doubt, and unbelief. Some interpreters might suggest that Nicomedus came to Jesus “at night” (John 3:2) to prevent detection or alternatively that (as an intense rabbi) he studies late into the night, but most commentators are agreed that the reference to night is a picture of a man who was in an uneasy state of unbelief or doubt. (Borchert, John 1-11 (New American Commentary), 170)

In contrast to Jesus being light itself, Nicodemus, whom the world perceives as enlightened, is in the dark. In seeking Jesus, a man in darkness is taking his first steps into the light.

Nicodemus’ inner conflict is understandable on many levels. Whatever his reasons, it can be certain that Nicodemus sought Jesus when it was best for him, not best for Jesus. Like most of us, Nicodemus insists on meeting Jesus on his own terms.

Even so, it is a miracle that Nicodemus comes at all. All of the reasons for him to come at night are also reasons not to make the trip altogether. Even if not walking in the light, Nicodemus appears open minded as he investigates Jesus as opposed to taking the easier route of making a blanket rejection. He is independent enough to take the risk of pursuing Jesus. At the very least, he makes a significant movement toward believing the one sent to make God known (John 1:11-14). He may be in the dark, but Nicodemus is open to the light.

Frederick Dale Bruner (b. 1932) comments:

Hartwig Thyen [b. 1927]...noticed that initially Nicodemus came to Jesus by night (John 3:1), but at least he came, and Jesus promised that “whoever came” to him he would in no way cast aside (John 6:37); thus Nicodemus had in fact “come to the light” and received its promise (John 3:21). (Bruner, The Gospel of John: A Commentary, 500)

Why does Nicodemus visit Jesus at night? What does it say about Jesus that he is willing to meet with Nicodemus at night? What is the latest anyone has visited your home? What are the advantages of coming at night? How would the conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus have looked differently had their been witnesses (John 3:1-21)? Are you more apt to be honest and revealing in private or public? Why? When do you get a more authentic response from a minister: in front of a crowd or in private? Who do you not wish to be seen with? Do you have any guilty pleasures? Whose disapproval motivates you? When have you encountered Jesus at night? What risk do you take when following Jesus? Can one be a secret disciple of Jesus? When do you seek Jesus?

Nicodemus becomes a recurring character in John’s gospel and while the fate of his faith is not stated explicitly, there are hints (John 7:50, 19:39). He is later seen defending Jesus before his peers (John 7:50-51) and preparing Jesus for burial (John 19:36-40). Even so, his initial timidity is never forgotten. The last time that he is referenced, he is remembered as the one “who had first come to Him by night” (John 19:39 NASB), perhaps providing hope for those who are still seeking Jesus by night.

Critics note that Nicodemus never professes faith, he only asks questions (John 3:4, 9). Even when he reappears, though well-intentioned, he appears diffident. In preparing Jesus for burial, he plays a secondary role to Joseph of Arimathea (John 19:39). These factors have led many to doubt that Nicodemus possesses the conviction to make a stand for Jesus. Lesslie Newbigin (1909-1998) characterizes Nicodemus as a “man who is drawn to the light but not yet able to leave the darkness (Newbigin, The Light has Come: an Exposition of the Fourth Gospel, 37).”

Gregory Stevenson (b. 1966) appraises:

Does Nicodemus belong to the darkness?...Ultimately, Nicodemus is an ambiguous figure. He is not blind, but his vision is not so great either. He remains distracted by his religious position. Nicodemus sees enough to come to Jesus, to stand up for him, and to help with burial preparations, but not enough to come fully into the light. He exists in the twilight, caught between day and night. (David Fleer[b. 1953] and Dave Bland [b. 1953], “Believing is Seeing: The Dynamics of Faith in the Gospel of John”, Preaching John’s Gospel: The World It Imagines, 113-114)

How would you characterize Nicodemus? Does he belong more to the light or the night? What does Nicodemus do wrong? What does he do right? Have you stepped into the light or are you lingering in the darkness?

Then Jesus again spoke to them, saying, “I am the Light of the world; he who follows Me will not walk in the darkness, but will have the Light of life.” (John 8:12, NASB)