The Covenant of Marriage Communication – Conference Notes

Communicating as Covenant Partners: A Christ-Centered Theology and Practice of Marriage Communication

Introduction

Marriage is more than a social institution or emotional partnership—it is a holy covenant established by God, modeled throughout Scripture, and fulfilled in Christ’s relationship with the Church. Communication within marriage is not merely a set of skills; it is a sacramental expression of covenanted love, shaped by identity in Christ and sustained by grace.

In a world of transactional relationships and consumerized romance, Christian couples are called to something deeper: speaking truth in love (Eph. 4:15), bearing one another’s burdens (Gal. 6:2), and reflecting God’s steadfast love (חסד, chesed) in how they listen, speak, and respond to one another.


1. The Hebraic Concept of Covenant

In Scripture, covenant (ברית, berith) is not a contract; it is a relational pledge grounded in faithfulness and identity. It structures marriage not around feelings or performance, but around being–with–one–another under God.

  • Genesis 2:24—“Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.”
    One flesh implies unity in identity, purpose, and narrative—a shared life.
  • Malachi 2:14–16—God calls Israel my companion (רעיה, re‘iyah) in covenant, highlighting vow-keeping as essential to relational integrity.
    Marriage communication reflects this same vow-oriented faithfulness.

2. Christ and the Church as the Ultimate Covenant Model

Ephesians 5:25–33 anchors marital love in Christ’s sacrificial love for the Church:

  • Self–giving love
  • Cleansing through the Word
  • Nurturing growth and flourishing

In this model, communication is not negotiable nor optional—it is an expression of covenant identity.


1. Jesus: Communicating with Presence and Truth

Jesus embodied communication that was:

  • Attentive — He saw and called individuals by name (Mark 10:21; John 4:27–30).
  • Restorative — He spoke truth that healed rather than harmed (John 8:1–11).
  • Sacrificial — His words pierced, yet offered life (John 6:60–69).

Application for couples:

  • Be fully present in conversation (no half-listening).
  • Seek truth to heal, not to win.

2. Paul: Words That Build Up

Paul repeatedly encourages the church to communicate with grace:

  • Ephesians 4:29 — “Let no corrupting talk come out … but only such as is good for building up.”
  • Colossians 3:12–14 — Compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, forgiveness, love.

Application for couples:

  • Make speech an agent of edification, not accusation.
  • Aim for restoration and peace (Matt. 5:9).

3. Proverbs: Wisdom for Everyday Speech

Proverbs 15:1 contrasts gentleness with provocation:

  • “A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.”

Application for couples:

  • Choose tone and timing wisely.
  • Slow down before responding; give space for Spirit-guided reflection.

John and Stacy Edwards’ Love & Respect highlights the “Crazy Cycle”:

  • Wives want love, feel unheard →
  • Husbands want respect, feel dismissed →
  • Escalation ensues.

While their gender framing has sparked discussion, the core insight resonates with covenant communication: each partner deeply desires to be known, honored, and treasured.

Redemptive pattern:

  • Respond to hurts with clarifying questions rather than assumptions.
  • Affirm identity (“I hear you; your heart matters to me”), then seek understanding.

Drawing from One Extraordinary Marriage (6 Pillars of Intimacy):

1. Physical Presence

Not just being in the same room—being fully present and undistracted.

2. Emotional Space

Create an environment where vulnerability is welcomed, not weaponized.

3. Spiritual Unity

Pray together before you problem-solve together.

4. Intellectual Engagement

Value curiosity over defensiveness.

5. Relational Investment

Set rhythms (weekly check-ins, shared devotions) that speak covenant over chaos.

6. Communal Support

Accountability with trusted mentors or couples enriches communication health.


1. Love Languages (Gary Chapman)

Understanding each other’s primary love languages—words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, gifts, physical touch—enhances mutual empathy and expressive clarity.

2. Rhythms from Sacred Marriage (Gary Thomas)

Thomas reframes marriage as sanctification before satisfaction. Communication becomes a means to God’s glory, not just emotional comfort.

3. Eternal Perspective from The Meaning of Marriage (Timothy Keller)

Marriage reflects Christ’s gospel: steadfast, gracious, covenantal. Communication is therefore missionary—bearing witness in everyday speech.

4. You and Me Forever (Francis & Lisa Chan)

Focuses couples on shared Gospel mission, reducing self-absorption and enhancing sacrificial dialogue.


1. Listen Before You Respond

Listening communicates worth and attention.

Practical tip:

  • Reflect back what you heard before responding.

2. Speak Truth in Love

Truth without love wounds; love without truth obscures reality.

Practical tip:

  • Use “I” statements and describe specific behaviors, not character labels.

3. Forgive and Seek Forgiveness

Covenant speech includes reconciliation language.

Practical tip:

  • Practice short, daily reconciliations to prevent relational drift.

4. Pray Before Difficult Conversations

Invite the Spirit to shape hearts before words are exchanged.

Practical tip:

  • Frame hard discussions with scripture (“Lord, make us quick to listen…” James 1:19).

5. Celebrate Small Wins

Acknowledging growth builds trust.

Practical tip:

  • Weekly “gratitude moments” during meals or prayer times.

Communication in Christian marriage is not primarily a technique—it is covenant language. It reflects who we are in Christ and how covenant love shapes everyday life. Words become acts of worship, spaces of grace, and pathways of transformation when we speak and listen in the presence of God.

May our marriages echo the speech of Christ—patient, kind, humble, forgiving, and anchored in love that never ends (1 Cor. 13:4–8).

Discussion Questions

1. Covenant vs. Contract: How Does Ontology Shape Communication?

The Hebrew concept of בְּרִית (berith) frames marriage as a covenant grounded in identity and faithfulness rather than performance or emotional satisfaction.

  • In what ways does viewing marriage as covenant (rather than contract) reshape expectations during conflict?
  • How might this covenantal framework alter the way couples interpret silence, criticism, or emotional withdrawal?
  • How does Malachi 2:14–16 challenge modern consumerist assumptions about relational fulfillment?

2. Christological Communication: Imitating the Speech of Jesus

Ephesians 5 roots marriage in the self-giving love of Christ.

  • How does Christ’s communicative posture (John 4; John 8; Mark 10:21) inform a theology of attentiveness and truth-telling in marriage?
  • What does it mean to “cleanse by the washing of water with the word” (Eph. 5:26) in the context of marital speech?
  • In practical terms, how can couples ensure their words are redemptive rather than corrective alone?

3. The “Crazy Cycle” and the Doctrine of Sin

Eggerich’s “Crazy Cycle” describes relational escalation when love and respect feel absent.

  • How does this dynamic reflect the broader biblical doctrine of sin as relational fracture (Gen. 3)?
  • In what ways does pride distort listening and self-giving communication?
  • How might a theology of repentance interrupt destructive communication cycles?

4. Sanctification Through Speech

Gary Thomas argues marriage is more about holiness than happiness.

  • How can communication function as a primary instrument of sanctification?
  • Reflect on James 1:19–20 and Ephesians 4:29. What spiritual disciplines are necessary for obedient speech?
  • How might difficult conversations serve as means of grace rather than merely problems to solve?

5. Identity in Christ and Shared Mission

Drawing from Keller and the Chans, marriage reflects the gospel and participates in mission.

  • How does shared identity “in Christ” stabilize communication when emotions fluctuate?
  • What practices (prayer, shared Scripture, missional engagement) tangibly reinforce covenant identity in daily dialogue?
  • How does a shared eternal vision recalibrate trivial conflicts?

Bibliography

Chapman, Gary. The 5 Love Languages: The Secret to Love That Lasts. Chicago: Northfield Publishing, 2015.

Chan, Francis, and Lisa Chan. You and Me Forever: Marriage in Light of Eternity. Colorado Springs: Claire Love Publishing, 2014.

Eggerichs, Emerson. Love & Respect: The Love She Most Desires; The Respect He Desperately Needs. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2004.

Keller, Timothy, with Kathy Keller. The Meaning of Marriage: Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God. New York: Dutton, 2011.

Thomas, Gary. Sacred Marriage: What If God Designed Marriage to Make Us Holy More Than to Make Us Happy? Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2000.

Gregoire, Sheila Wray. The Great Sex Rescue. Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2021.

Wright, Christopher J. H. Old Testament Ethics for the People of God. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2004.

Block, Daniel I. “Marriage and Family in Ancient Israel.” In Marriage and Family in the Biblical World, edited by Ken M. Campbell, 33–102. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2003.

The Covenant of Marriage – Conference Notes

A Biblical-Theological and Socio-Historical Exploration

1. Berit (בְּרִית): Covenant as Ontological Bond

The Hebrew term berit cannot be reduced to “contract.” In the Ancient Near Eastern world, covenants (Hittite suzerainty treaties, parity treaties, kinship covenants) established binding relational realities. They were often ratified by oath, sacrifice, and symbolic acts (cf. Gen 15; Jer 34:18–20). The covenant did not merely regulate behavior; it created a new relational status.

Hebrew philological studies suggest that covenant language often involved embodied ritual actions — cutting animals, sharing meals, oath invocations — signifying life-and-death seriousness. The expression “cut a covenant” (karat berit) implies sacrificial solemnity. Marriage, when named covenant in Malachi 2:14, is therefore elevated into this sacred category.

Malachi rebukes Israelite men who deal treacherously (bagad) with “the wife of your covenant.” The covenant is not merely between spouses; “the LORD was witness.” The text suggests divine juridical oversight. Marriage is a theologically accountable bond under YHWH’s covenant justice.

2. Genesis 1–2: Creation as Proto-Covenantal Structure

Genesis 1:26–28 situates humanity as royal vice-regents bearing the imago Dei. The Hebrew plural deliberation (“Let us make…”) and the parallel structure (“male and female he created them”) present differentiated unity within shared image-bearing.

The dominion mandate (radah) is given jointly. Thus, marriage emerges within a shared vocational stewardship.

Genesis 2 deepens this through narrative theology. The woman as ezer kenegdo must be handled carefully. Ezer appears 21 times in the Hebrew Bible; in most cases it refers to divine aid (e.g., Ps 121:1–2). It connotes indispensable strength. Kenegdo (“corresponding to him,” “according to what is opposite”) implies complementarity of relational correspondence, not subordination.

The covenantal nature becomes clearer in Genesis 2:24:

“Therefore a man shall leave (‘azab) his father and mother and cling (dabaq) to his wife…”

Dabaq frequently describes covenant fidelity to YHWH (Deut 10:20; 30:20). The semantic overlap is significant. Marriage mirrors Israel’s covenantal clinging to God.

The phrase “one flesh” (basar echad) reflects kinship formula language. In the ancient world, flesh signified shared clan identity (cf. Gen 29:14; 2 Sam 5:1). Marriage forms a new covenant kinship unit.

Thus, Genesis presents marriage not merely as companionship but as a covenantal reconstitution of primary allegiance and shared identity before God.


1. Prophetic Marriage Metaphor and Covenant Theology

The prophetic corpus elevates marriage into theological metaphor. Hosea’s enacted prophecy (Hos 1–3) frames Israel’s idolatry as adultery. The covenant violation is sexualized imagery because marriage best captures the intimacy and exclusivity of divine-human covenant.

Isaiah 54:5 declares:

“For your Maker is your husband (בֹּעֲלַיִךְ).”

The marital title affirms covenant loyalty despite judgment. Jeremiah 31:32 explicitly refers to YHWH as husband in relation to Sinai covenant.

This is theologically decisive: marriage becomes the primary analogy for covenant faithfulness, exclusivity, and restorative grace. The logic moves from divine covenant to human marriage, and back again.

2. Second Temple Developments

By the Second Temple period, Jewish marriage involved ketubah agreements, bride-price (mohar), and legally binding commitments. While economic dimensions existed, marriage retained theological framing under Torah.

Divorce debates between Hillel and Shammai (m. Gittin) reveal interpretive tensions over Deuteronomy 24. By Jesus’ time, some permitted divorce for trivial reasons. Thus, covenant permanence was contested.


Roman marriage functioned within patria potestas. The male head wielded legal control. Marriage types (cum manu vs. sine manu) affected whether the wife came under the husband’s legal authority or remained under her father’s household.

Aristotle (Politics 1.1253b) described the husband-wife relationship hierarchically within household management. The household codes reinforced stratified order: husband over wife, father over children, master over slave.

Yet Roman moralists also valued marital fidelity as stabilizing civic order.

Against this background, New Testament teaching neither abolishes structure nor baptizes patriarchy; instead, it reorients marriage christologically and covenantally.


In Matthew 19:3–9, Jesus addresses divorce controversies. His interpretive move is hermeneutically profound: he appeals to Genesis 1 and 2 as normative revelation.

By joining both creation texts (“male and female” + “one flesh”), Jesus presents a canonical synthesis. The verb “joined together” (synezeuxen) implies divine yoking. God is the covenantal agent.

Jesus’ restriction of divorce does not ignore Mosaic concession but reframes it as accommodation to hardness of heart. Covenant permanence reflects divine intent.

In elevating Genesis over concessionary legislation, Jesus restores marriage to its creational-covenantal gravity.


1. Ephesians 5:21–33 — Mystery and Covenant Christology

The participial structure beginning in 5:18 (“being filled with the Spirit”) governs the household code. Verse 21 introduces mutual submission (hypotassomenoi allelois).

When Paul instructs wives to submit, the verb is borrowed from v. 21 — situating marriage within the larger ethic of Spirit-shaped humility.

Husbands are commanded to love (agapate) “as Christ loved the church and gave himself up.” The analogy is covenantal and sacrificial. Christ’s headship (kephalē) must be read through cruciform self-giving.

Verse 25–27 evokes covenant purification imagery. Christ sanctifies the church, presenting her in glory — echoing prophetic marital restoration themes.

Verse 32 is climactic:

“This mystery (mystērion) is great — but I speak concerning Christ and the church.”

Marriage is typological participation in the new covenant. The earthly union signifies the eschatological union.

Thus, Paul situates marriage within redemptive history — not merely ethics but covenant drama.

2. 1 Corinthians 7: Reciprocity in a Patriarchal Context

In Corinth, influenced by both asceticism and libertinism, Paul affirms marital sexual obligation. The reciprocal language of authority (exousiazei) over one another’s bodies is unprecedented in Roman literature.

Marriage is framed as mutual covenant obligation, not unilateral male entitlement.


1. Coram Deo: Marriage Before the Face of God

Ecclesiastes 5 warns against rash vows. Biblical marriage vows invoke divine witness. The covenant is triangulated — husband, wife, and God.

Marriage is therefore an act of worshipful oath-taking.

2. Covenant Fidelity as Sanctification

Hebrews 13:4 affirms marriage as honorable and the bed undefiled. Sexual exclusivity is covenant fidelity embodied.

Sanctification occurs through daily covenant keeping: forgiveness, repentance, reconciliation. Marriage becomes a means of grace.

3. Eschatological Orientation

Revelation 19 and 21 culminate in nuptial imagery. The Lamb’s marriage fulfills prophetic anticipation. Earthly marriage is provisional signpost toward ultimate covenant union.


Modern Western culture often treats marriage contractually — dissolvable when preferences change.

Biblical covenant marriage requires:

  • Vow consciousness
  • Theological literacy
  • Liturgical seriousness
  • Church accountability

Premarital counseling must teach covenant ontology, not merely compatibility tools.

Pastorally, couples must be shepherded toward:

  • Prayer as covenant renewal
  • Eucharistic imagination (self-giving love patterned after Christ)
  • Endurance rooted in God’s covenant faithfulness

Marriage thrives when grounded not in emotional volatility but in the steadfast love (hesed) of God.


Conclusion

Marriage in Scripture is covenantal from creation to consummation. It is:

  • Rooted in Genesis’ covenant-shaped anthropology
  • Interpreted through prophetic covenant metaphor
  • Restored by Jesus’ appeal to creation
  • Reframed in Paul’s Christological mystery
  • Fulfilled in eschatological union

To stand in marriage is to stand before the Lord — bound by oath, sustained by grace, accountable to divine witness, and participating in the redemptive covenant story of God.

When the church recovers this theological depth, marriage becomes not merely a personal commitment but a living proclamation of God’s covenant faithfulness.


  1. Covenant Ontology and Marriage:
    How does the Hebrew concept of berit (particularly as expressed in karat berit, “cutting a covenant”) deepen our understanding of marriage as an ontological bond rather than a contractual agreement? In what ways does Malachi 2:14 reinforce this covenantal seriousness?
  2. Genesis 2:24 and Covenant Fidelity:
    In light of the semantic range of dabaq (“to cling/cleave”) elsewhere in Deuteronomy’s covenant language, how might Genesis 2:24 intentionally frame marriage as an analogue to Israel’s covenant loyalty to YHWH? What theological implications arise from this connection?
  3. Second Temple and Greco-Roman Contexts:
    How did Jewish covenant consciousness interact with Greco-Roman legal structures such as patria potestas? In what ways do Jesus’ teaching in Matthew 19 and Paul’s instructions in Ephesians 5 both affirm and subvert their socio-historical environments?
  4. Christological Typology in Ephesians 5:
    How does Paul’s use of mystērion (Eph 5:32) situate marriage within redemptive history? What are the implications of reading marriage primarily through the lens of Christ’s covenant with the church?
  5. Eschatology and Pastoral Formation:
    If earthly marriage functions as an anticipatory sign of the eschatological marriage of the Lamb (Rev 19–21), how should this shape pastoral counseling, marital endurance through suffering, and the church’s theology of permanence?

Bibliography & Further Reading

Biblical and Lexical Resources

Bauer, Walter, Frederick W. Danker, William F. Arndt, and F. Wilbur Gingrich. A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (BDAG). 3rd ed. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000.

Brown, Francis, S. R. Driver, and Charles A. Briggs. The Brown-Driver-Briggs Hebrew and English Lexicon. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1996.

Koehler, Ludwig, Walter Baumgartner, and Johann Jakob Stamm. The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (HALOT). Leiden: Brill, 1994–2000.


Covenant Theology and Old Testament Foundations

Robertson, O. Palmer. The Christ of the Covenants. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 1980.

Gentry, Peter J., and Stephen J. Wellum. Kingdom through Covenant. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2012.

Hahn, Scott W. Kinship by Covenant. New Haven: Yale University Press, 2009.

Ancient Hebrew Research Center. “Covenants from a Hebrew Perspective.”

Ancient Hebrew Research Center. “Definition of Covenant.”


Marriage in the Old Testament and Ancient Near East

Matthews, Victor H. Marriage and Family in the Biblical World. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2003.

Westbrook, Raymond. Old Babylonian Marriage Law. AfO Beiheft 23. Vienna: Institut für Orientalistik, 1988.

Wright, Christopher J. H. Old Testament Ethics for the People of God. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2004.


Second Temple and Greco-Roman Context

Cohick, Lynn H. Women in the World of the Earliest Christians. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2009.

Osiek, Carolyn, and David L. Balch. Families in the New Testament World: Households and House Churches. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1997.

Malina, Bruce J. The New Testament World: Insights from Cultural Anthropology. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2001.

Witherington, Ben III. Women in the Earliest Churches. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988.

Bryn Mawr Classical Review. 2021. Review of scholarship on marriage and family in antiquity (BMCR 2021.03.05).


New Testament Theology of Marriage

Keener, Craig S. Paul, Women & Wives: Marriage and Women’s Ministry in the Letters of Paul. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 1992.

Westfall, Cynthia Long. Paul and Gender: Reclaiming the Apostle’s Vision for Men and Women in Christ. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2016.

Thielman, Frank. Ephesians. Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2010.

Thiselton, Anthony C. The First Epistle to the Corinthians. NIGTC. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2000.


Theological and Pastoral Reflection

Hauerwas, Stanley. A Community of Character. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1981.

John Paul II. Man and Woman He Created Them: A Theology of the Body. Boston: Pauline Books, 2006.

Reconstructing Judaism. “Covenant & Marriage” (D’var Torah).

CBE International. “How the New Testament Turned Marriage in the Ancient World on Its Head.”

“The Three Heavenly Visitors in Genesis 18: A Divine Council Theophany?”

Introduction

Genesis 18 presents a unique and theologically charged encounter in the Hebrew Bible: Abraham is approached by three visitors whom the narrator initially introduces with the divine name YHWH (the LORD) and later identifies as “men” (Heb. ’anashim). The narrative blurs the categories of divine presence and angelic messengers, generating interpretive complexity that has occupied Jewish and Christian interpreters alike. The episode has been variously read as a test of Abraham’s hospitality, a Christophany (pre-incarnate Christ), or as an example of divine council imagery, where heavenly beings function as God’s agents in the cosmos.

The divine council concept — an assembly of heavenly beings under the sovereignty of the one God — is widely discussed in biblical scholarship (e.g., Psalm 82; Job 1–2; 1 Kings 22:19) and has been popularized in recent years by scholars such as Michael S. Heiser. It provides a framework for reading passages that feature interactions between humans and multiple divine or semi-divine figures without undermining monotheism.

In this article, I argue that three main features of Genesis 18 support interpreting the visitors as divine council / spiritual beings whose presence reflects a partial or mediated theophany — a visible manifestation of the divine.


1. Narrative Identification: YHWH’s Presence and Angelic Agency

A compelling reason to view the visitors as more than ordinary humans lies in the narrator’s framing. The episode opens with the statement: “The LORD appeared to Abraham…” (Heb. vay-yēra’ YHWH), immediately associating the visit with a divine theophany. Yet Abraham sees three men (Genesis 18:1–2), and later two of these continue on to Sodom where they are explicitly called angels (mal’akim) in Genesis 19:1.

This interplay — singular divine presence and plural visitors — invites careful interpretation. One scholarly option is that one visitor functions as the theophanic presence of YHWH, while the other two represent heavenly agents operating within God’s divine court. The text makes this distinction narratively: the LORD speaks covenantal promises (e.g., the birth of Isaac) through one figure, while the others carry out a related mission (going on to Sodom to investigate its wickedness).

In broader divine council imagery, heavenly messengers are often depicted as “standing in the presence of YHWH” or “coming from the assembly of the holy ones” — reflecting a hierarchical divine order in which God presides but heavenly beings act as His representatives. The Job 1–2 and 1 Kings 22 scenes illustrate this pattern in other texts.

Thus, the narrative structure — singular divine announcement and plural agents — coheres with a council model wherein God interacts with humanity through a cohort of spiritual beings rather than appearing directly in full divine essence. This feeds into a mediated theophany: God is present and speaks through a heavenly agent while supported by others.


2. Theophany and “Visible Gods” in Ancient Israelite Context

A second argument arises from ancient Near Eastern and Israelite perceptions of heavenly beings. In the wider Ancient Near East, divine assemblies — councils of gods — were a common motif in narrative and ritual texts. Israelite religion, while monotheistic in its affirmation of YHWH as the supreme God, nevertheless shows evidence of a heavenly host or divine council assembly through passages that portray heavenly beings in council or in service to God. Psalm 82’s “God stands in the divine assembly” imagery suggests that Israelite tradition could conceive of spiritual beings subordinate to Yahweh but active in the divine realm.

Scholars like Michael Heiser and others have argued that such divine council imagery underlies many biblical narratives — not as evidence of polytheism, but as part of a biblical supernatural worldview in which God’s rule over cosmic order is mediated by spiritual beings. These beings can interact with the human sphere while remaining subordinate to Yahweh’s authority.

In this light, the three “men” of Genesis 18 resemble members of the divine council or heavenly host coming to execute God’s will: announcing covenantal blessing and assessing impending judgment. Their behavior — eating food, communicating with Abraham, and then departing — mirrors other divine council appearances where demons or angels take on human form in narrative. This fits more naturally with cosmic hierarchical imagery than with a purely anthropomorphic deity walking about in ordinary human guise.


3. Theophany Features: Speech, Authority, and Human Response

Finally, the theophanic qualities of the encounter support reading the visitors as divine or heavenly figures rather than mere mortals. Key elements include:

  1. Divine Speech and Promise: One visitor speaks as YHWH, using Yahweh’s own name and authority in promising a son to Abraham and Sarah — a hallmark of divine speech rather than angelic proclamation alone.
  2. Human Worship and Interaction: Abraham’s actions — bowing, addressing them in the singular as “my lord,” and engaging in covenant dialogue — reflect recognition of divine presence, not merely polite reception of guests.
  3. Discrepancy Between Appearance and Ontology: The visitors appear as ordinary humans but are operationally supernatural. Two are later identified as angels in Sodom, while the third remains as Yahweh’s representative in dialogue with Abraham. This layered identity — human-like appearance, divine speech, and angelic mission — is consistent with other biblical theophanies where God appears in human form (e.g., to Manoah’s parents in Judges 13).

These features suggest a mediated theophany: God reveals Himself in a way that humans can encounter (visible visitors) while maintaining divine otherness. The narrative’s emphasis on hospitality, promise, and accountability underscores the encounter’s theological gravity, not merely its moral exemplarity.


Conclusion

Genesis 18’s three visitors resist simple categorization as either mundane travelers or strictly anthropomorphic God. Instead, multiple narrative and theological signals point to an interaction with divine or heavenly figures that function within a divine council motif:

  1. The text’s framing blends YHWH’s presence with angelic agency, matching divine council hierarchies.
  2. Ancient Israelite and Ancient Near Eastern contexts include heavenly hosts and councils under God’s sovereignty.
  3. Theophany features — authoritative speech, human reverence, and heavenly mission — reflect mediated divine encounter.

Thus, reading these visitors as divine council beings who participate in God’s cosmic governance and interact with Abraham offers a cohesive interpretive lens. It respects textual complexity, aligns with broader biblical imagery, and highlights the significance of this pivotal covenantal moment.

Selected Bibliography

Primary Text

  • The Holy Bible, Genesis 18–19 (Hebrew text and major English translations)

Articles and Online Resources

Secondary Scholarly Works

  • Heiser, Michael S. The Unseen Realm: Recovering the Supernatural Worldview of the Bible. Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2015.
  • Walton, John H. The Lost World of the Old Testament: Ancient Israelite Cosmology and the Origins Debate. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2018.
  • Sommer, Benjamin D. The Bodies of God and the World of Ancient Israel. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009.
  • Smith, Mark S. The Origins of Biblical Monotheism: Israel’s Polytheistic Background and the Ugaritic Texts. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001.
  • Collins, C. John. Genesis 1–4: A Linguistic, Literary, and Theological Commentary. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2006 (esp. methodological notes on divine appearance).
  • Arnold, Bill T. Introduction to the Old Testament. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2014 (sections on divine messengers and theophany).

Small Group Study Questions (Genesis 18)

Theological Implications
If the visitors are understood as divine council beings participating in a mediated theophany, how does this affect our understanding of God’s sovereignty, judgment (Genesis 18–19), and covenant faithfulness?

Textual Observation
Genesis 18:1 states that “the LORD appeared to Abraham,” yet Abraham sees three men. How does this tension between divine identification and human appearance shape your reading of the passage?

Divine Council Framework
Other biblical texts (e.g., Job 1–2; Psalm 82; 1 Kings 22) portray God presiding over heavenly beings. How might those passages help us understand the role of the three visitors in Genesis 18?

Theophany and Mediation
Why might God choose to appear through human-like figures or heavenly messengers rather than in an unmediated form? What does this suggest about God’s desire for relationship and accessibility?

Hospitality and Revelation
Abraham shows hospitality before fully understanding who his guests are. What connection does Genesis 18 make between faithful hospitality and divine revelation?

Healing Before Fruitfulness: Joseph’s Sons and a Theology of Restoration

The Joseph narrative (Gen. 37–50) presents one of the Hebrew Bible’s most sustained reflections on suffering, providence, and restoration. Betrayed by his brothers and sold into slavery, Joseph experiences prolonged affliction through servitude, false accusation, and imprisonment before his elevation to authority in Egypt. This narrative arc is not merely biographical but theological, portraying divine sovereignty at work within, rather than apart from, human injustice.

A critical but often underexamined moment occurs prior to Joseph’s reconciliation with his brothers: the naming of his sons, Manasseh and Ephraim (Gen. 41:50–52). In the Hebrew Bible, naming frequently functions as a theological interpretation of lived experience, encoding meaning, memory, and confession. The narrator’s explicit preservation of Joseph’s naming explanations signals their interpretive importance.

Joseph names his firstborn Manasseh (מְנַשֶּׁה), declaring, “For God has made me forget (nashani) all my hardship and all my father’s house” (Gen. 41:51). The Hebrew root נשה (nashah), often translated “to forget,” does not imply amnesia or repression. Rather, within biblical and rabbinic usage, it conveys release from the dominating power of memory. Joseph’s past is not erased; it is rendered non-determinative. Rabbinic commentators emphasize that Joseph continues to remember his family and heritage, indicating that “forgetting” here refers to healing rather than denial.¹ This is a foreshadowing of a later theme of God holding no record of wrongs as an indicator of the way that His followers should also live.

Joseph’s second son is named Ephraim (אֶפְרָיִם), derived from the root פרה (parah, “to be fruitful”), accompanied by the declaration, “For God has made me fruitful in the land of my affliction” (Gen. 41:52). Notably, Egypt is still described as ’erets ‘onyi—“the land of my suffering.” Fruitfulness does not follow removal from affliction but emerges within it. The text thus resists any simplistic theology in which blessing is contingent upon the absence of suffering. It is a direct correlation to the Yahweh identifying Himself differently from the “other” ancient “gods” that functioned solely on the retribution principle.

The sequence of these names is theologically decisive. Healing (Manasseh) precedes fruitfulness (Ephraim), and both occur prior to forgiveness and reconciliation with Joseph’s brothers (Gen. 42–45). The narrative therefore distinguishes between inner restoration and relational restoration. While reconciliation ultimately requires repentance, truth-telling, and transformation on the part of the offenders, healing is portrayed as a divine act that does not depend upon the moral readiness of others. God’s restorative work in Joseph begins while the relational rupture remains unresolved.

This narrative logic challenges the assumption that closure or apology is a prerequisite for healing. Joseph’s story suggests instead that divine healing reorders the self, freeing one from the formative power of trauma and making space for generativity. Reconciliation, when it comes, is no longer a desperate need but a fruit of a healed identity.

Canonical Resonances: New Testament and Revelation

This pattern—healing preceding fruitfulness and reconciliation—finds resonance within the New Testament. Jesus’ invitation in Matthew 11:28 (“Come to me… and I will give you rest”) addresses interior restoration prior to the resolution of external conflict. Likewise, Paul’s theology of suffering in Romans 5:3–5 traces a movement from affliction to endurance, character, and hope—an internal transformation that precedes eschatological vindication.

In Revelation, similar logic governs the experience of the faithful. The saints are depicted as conquering (nikaō) not by escaping suffering but by faithful endurance within it (Rev. 12:11). The promises to the churches repeatedly emphasize fruitfulness, reigning, and restored vocation as outcomes of perseverance rather than prerequisites for divine favor (Rev. 2–3). Healing, symbolized by access to the tree of life and the wiping away of tears (Rev. 22:1–5; 21:4), is ultimately God’s work, accomplished even while injustice and opposition persist.

Within this broader canonical framework, Manasseh and Ephraim function as typological witnesses to a theology of restoration in which God heals before resolving every relational or historical wrong.

Healing is not the end of the story, but it is the condition that makes genuine fruitfulness—and ultimately reconciliation—possible.

Second Temple Jewish Parallels: Healing, Memory, and Fruitfulness in Exile

Second Temple Jewish literature provides important conceptual parallels to the pattern evident in Joseph’s naming of Manasseh and Ephraim, particularly with respect to memory, healing, and divine fruitfulness amid unresolved exile. These texts frequently wrestle with the problem of how God restores individuals and communities before historical or political reconciliation is complete.

In several Second Temple sources, remembering and forgetting function not as opposites but as theological tensions. Sirach, for example, acknowledges that past wounds are neither erased nor ignored, yet insists that wisdom enables one to live fruitfully without being governed by injury (Sir. 30:21–25). Here, healing is portrayed as an interior reordering that precedes external change—a conceptual parallel to Manasseh’s role as release from suffering’s formative power.

Similarly, the Wisdom of Solomon frames affliction as the context in which divine fruitfulness is cultivated rather than negated. The righteous are described as disciplined through suffering so that they might bear enduring fruit (Wis. 3:1–9), a logic that closely mirrors Ephraim’s naming as fruitfulness within the land of affliction. Vindication is future-oriented, but transformation occurs in the present.

The Dead Sea Scrolls further reinforce this pattern. In the Hodayot (Thanksgiving Hymns), the speaker repeatedly testifies to divine healing and restoration of the inner person while remaining socially marginalized and eschatologically unresolved (1QHᵃ). Healing precedes deliverance; identity is stabilized by God before historical redemption is realized. This reflects a theology in which God’s restorative work is not delayed until covenantal enemies are defeated or exile is reversed.

Of particular relevance is the Second Temple preoccupation with Joseph as a paradigmatic righteous sufferer. In works such as Joseph and Aseneth and later expansions of the Joseph tradition, Joseph is portrayed as morally transformed and divinely favored long before reconciliation with his brothers occurs. His interior faithfulness and divine blessing function independently of familial restoration, reinforcing the distinction between personal healing and relational reconciliation.

Moreover, Second Temple Israel broadly understood exile as an ongoing condition—even after the return from Babylon. Healing and fruitfulness were therefore conceptualized as provisional, anticipatory realities rather than final resolutions. This framework illuminates the theological significance of Manasseh and Ephraim: Joseph embodies a form of restored life that flourishes prior to—and apart from—the full repair of covenantal relationships.

Within this Second Temple horizon, Joseph’s sons function not merely as narrative details but as symbolic markers of how God restores the faithful amid incomplete redemption. Healing reorients memory; fruitfulness establishes vocation; reconciliation, when it comes, is a subsequent and contingent grace rather than the precondition of wholeness.

Conclusion

Joseph’s story reminds us that God’s work in our lives is often deeper—and earlier—than we expect. Long before reconciliation arrived, long before the family wounds were reopened and named, God had already begun healing Joseph’s heart. Manasseh testifies that God can loosen the grip of pain that once defined us. Ephraim bears witness that fruitfulness can emerge even in places we would never choose.

This matters for us because many of us are waiting. Waiting for an apology. Waiting for understanding. Waiting for relationships to be repaired. Joseph’s life gently but firmly tells us that healing does not have to wait. God is not constrained by unfinished stories or unresolved conflict. He is able to restore the inner life even when the outer circumstances remain broken.

That does not diminish the value of forgiveness or reconciliation—Scripture still calls us toward both. But it does free us from believing that our wholeness depends on someone else’s repentance. Healing is God’s gift, not the reward of closure.

So the invitation is simple and hopeful: bring the wound to God. Let Him name it, tend it, and release its power over you. Fruitfulness will come in time. But healing, as Joseph’s sons remind us, can begin now—even before the story is finished.


Footnote-Style References

  1. Rabbinic tradition: See Genesis Rabbah 91:1, which emphasizes that Joseph’s “forgetting” does not negate memory of his father or covenantal identity, but reflects relief from suffering’s grip.
  2. Lexical: Ludwig Koehler and Walter Baumgartner, The Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (HALOT), s.v. “נשה,” noting semantic range including release and neglect rather than cognitive loss.
  3. Narrative theology: Walter Brueggemann, Genesis (Interpretation Commentary; Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1982), 331–334.
  4. Suffering and fruitfulness: Nahum M. Sarna, Genesis (JPS Torah Commentary; Philadelphia: JPS, 1989), 286–288.
  5. Naming as theological act: Robert Alter, The Art of Biblical Narrative (New York: Basic Books, 2011), 47–62.
  6. Canonical resonance: Richard Bauckham, The Theology of the Book of Revelation (Cambridge: CUP, 1993), 84–102.
  7. Sirach: Ben Sira 30:21–25; see Michael W. Duggan, Sirach (New Collegeville Bible Commentary; Liturgical Press, 2016).
  8. Wisdom of Solomon: Wis. 3:1–9; see John J. Collins, Jewish Wisdom in the Hellenistic Age (Westminster John Knox, 1997).
  9. Dead Sea Scrolls: Hodayot (1QHᵃ); see Carol A. Newsom, The Self as Symbolic Space (Brill, 2004).
  10. Joseph traditions: Joseph and Aseneth; see Ross Shepard Kraemer, When Aseneth Met Joseph (Oxford University Press, 1998).
  11. Exile as ongoing condition: N. T. Wright, The New Testament and the People of God (Fortress, 1992), 268–272 (used here for Second Temple Jewish worldview rather than NT theology).

Signs of Covenant Faithfulness

At the heart of covenant faithfulness is trust in God Himself. Abraham “believed the LORD, and He credited it to him as righteousness” (Gen 15:6). This pattern carries through Scripture: covenant faithfulness begins not with works, but with confident reliance on God’s promises (Hab 2:4; Rom 1:17).


Obedience is not the covenant’s foundation but its fruit. Israel was called to walk in God’s ways because they already belonged to Him (Exod 19:4–6; Deut 6:4–6). Jesus echoes this covenant logic: “If you love Me, you will keep My commandments” (John 14:15). Faithfulness is lived out through responsive obedience.


The Sabbath functions as a covenant sign of communion, trust and faithfulness (Exod 31:12–17). By resting, Israel confessed that their life and provision came from God, not their own labor. Sabbath-keeping embodied faith in God’s sustaining care and faithfulness.

At first glance, practices such as circumcision, foot washing, baptism, and communion can feel foreign—even uncomfortable—to modern readers. Yet within the biblical story, they are deeply connected. Each functions as an embodied sign through which God teaches His people what covenant faithfulness, belonging, and transformation look like.

In the Old Testament, circumcision served as the covenant sign given to Abraham and his descendants (Gen 17:9–14). It marked the body and permanently reminded Israel that their identity and future depended entirely on God’s promise. It was not merely a ritual act, but a visible declaration that God creates life where human ability fails.

Foot washing appears in the Old Testament as an act of hospitality, humility, and purification (Gen 18:4; 19:2; 1 Sam 25:41). In a dusty world, washing another’s feet signaled welcome and relational submission. This cultural practice laid the groundwork for its deeper theological meaning in the New Testament.

Baptism emerges in continuity with Old Testament washing rites that symbolized cleansing and renewal (Exod 29:4; Lev 16:4; Ezek 36:25). These washings pointed forward to a more complete purification—one not merely of the body, but of the heart. In the New Testament, baptism becomes the covenant sign of union with Christ, symbolizing death to the old life and resurrection into new life (Rom 6:3–4).

Communion, like circumcision, is a covenant meal. It echoes the Passover, where Israel remembered God’s saving act through a shared, embodied practice (Exod 12). Jesus reframes this meal around Himself, declaring the bread and cup to be His body and blood—the means by which the New Covenant is established (Luke 22:19–20). Communion continually reorients the Church around Christ’s sacrificial faithfulness.

Foot washing reaches its theological climax when Jesus washes His disciples’ feet (John 13:1–17). In this act, Jesus unites cleansing, humility, and love. He demonstrates that covenant belonging in the New Testament is marked not by dominance or status, but by self-giving service. The act does not replace baptism or communion but interprets them: those who have been cleansed by Christ are called to live cleansed lives marked by humble love.

Together, these practices reveal a consistent biblical pattern. God teaches spiritual truths through physical actions. Covenant faithfulness is not abstract; it is embodied. Circumcision marked God’s people as recipients of divine promise. Washings prepared them for holy presence. Baptism unites believers to Christ’s death and resurrection. Communion sustains them through continual remembrance and participation in Christ’s life.

What seems strange to modern culture is, in Scripture, profoundly intentional. From Genesis to the Gospels, God forms His people through signs that engage the body, the community, and the memory—shaping not only what they believe, but how they live.

Communion functions in the New Covenant in ways that closely parallel how circumcision functioned in the Old Covenant. In the Old Testament, circumcision was the covenant sign given to Abraham and his household (Gen 17:9–14). It did not create the covenant; rather, it marked those who belonged to it. Circumcision identified a person as part of God’s covenant people and continually pointed back to God’s promise to bring life where human ability had failed.

Similarly, communion does not establish the New Covenant but bears witness to it. At the Last Supper, Jesus identified the cup as “the new covenant in My blood” (Luke 22:20). Each time believers participate in the Lord’s Supper, they are visibly and repeatedly reminded that their life with God is grounded not in their own faithfulness, but in Christ’s sacrificial death.

Both circumcision and communion are physical, embodied signs of spiritual realities. Circumcision marked the body and permanently reminded Israel that their existence depended on God’s miraculous promise. Communion involves tangible elements—bread and wine—that engage the body and senses, proclaiming that the Church’s life flows from Christ’s broken body and shed blood (1 Cor 11:26).

Both signs are also communal and covenantal, not merely private. Circumcision incorporated individuals into a covenant people, shaping their identity and responsibilities. In the same way, communion is a shared meal that proclaims unity in Christ’s body (1 Cor 10:16–17). Participation affirms belonging to the covenant community and submission to its Lord.

Finally, both signs call for faithful response and self-examination. Circumcision without covenant loyalty was condemned by the prophets (Jer 4:4). Likewise, Paul warns against receiving communion in an unworthy manner, detached from repentance and love for the body of Christ (1 Cor 11:27–29). In both cases, the sign points beyond itself to a life of faithful trust and obedience.

In short, circumcision marked Israel as a people created by God’s promise, while communion continually re-centers the Church on the saving work of Christ. Different signs, same covenant logic: God gives a visible marker to remind His people who they are, how they were redeemed, and upon whom their life depends.

Circumcision appears nearly one hundred times in Scripture and plays an important role in both Old and New Testament theology (Rom 4:9–12; Gal 2:1–12; 5:1–10). At first glance, this emphasis can seem strange. Yet Scripture treats circumcision as a serious theological symbol, not a mere cultural practice.

In Genesis 17, circumcision is given as the sign of God’s covenant with Abraham. However, it was not unique to Israel. Many peoples in the ancient Near East practiced circumcision, including Israel’s neighbors (Jer 9:25–26), as well as cultures in Egypt, Syria, and Phoenicia. Historical and archaeological evidence shows that circumcision existed long before Israel emerged as a nation. This suggests that circumcision alone did not set Israel apart from surrounding nations.

What made circumcision distinctive was not the act itself, but the promise attached to it. When God commanded Abraham to be circumcised, Abraham was beyond the age of fathering children, and Sarah was past childbearing years (Gen 18:11). Yet God promised that through Sarah, Abraham would have an innumerable offspring (Gen 17:21; 18:14). The covenant, therefore, depended entirely on God’s miraculous intervention.

Circumcision marked the household of Abraham as participants in a promise that could only be fulfilled by God. At the time, the meaning of this sign may not have been fully clear. Its significance became evident when Isaac was born. That birth confirmed that Israel’s existence was not the result of human strength, but of divine faithfulness.

From that moment on, circumcision served as a lasting reminder that Israel owed its life to the Lord. It pointed back to the miracle that brought the people into being and continually reinforced their dependence on God’s covenant grace.

In the New Testament, circumcision no longer defines membership in God’s people. As Paul teaches, belonging to God’s family is no longer marked by a physical sign, but by faith in Christ (Gal 5:6). Paul even links circumcision to baptism (Col 2:10–12), showing that both are covenant signs grounded in faith. In Christ, God’s people—men and women alike—are marked not by the body, but by trust in the saving work of God.

Biblical covenant faithfulness is God’s work of creating and sustaining a people through promise, and the faithful response of that people lived out in embodied trust and obedience. From the Old Testament to the New, God marks His covenant not merely with ideas, but with visible, physical signs—circumcision, washings, baptism, and communion—that remind His people that their life comes from Him alone. These signs do not create the covenant; they testify to it, pointing beyond themselves to God’s saving action. Covenant faithfulness, therefore, is trusting God’s promise, receiving His cleansing and provision, remembering His saving work, and living humbly and obediently as His redeemed people.

Is Israel Still God’s Chosen people?

Yes, Israel was (and is) called God’s chosen people in Scripture—but what that means and how we understand it after Jesus is really important to clarify.

When God called Israel His “chosen people” in the Old Testament, it wasn’t primarily a statement about salvation. Rather, Israel was chosen (commissioned) for a vocation—to be a light to the nations (see Exodus 19:5–6; Deuteronomy 7:6; Isaiah 49:6). (You might see this as a regaining of the nations if you follow a Deuteronomy 32 worldview.) God gave them the Law (Torah), the covenants, and the promises, not as an end in themselves, but so that through them, the nations of the world would come to know and worship Yahweh. Paul puts it like this in Romans 3:2—that the Jews were entrusted with the oracles of God. In a sense, this was the calling of Adam and Eve and when they fall short, God commissions Israel in the same calling, nation that would be called commissioned as a holy royal priesthood to represent Yahweh to the rest of the fallen world.

But Israel consistently struggled to live out this calling. From nearly the beginning of the story the nation failed to honor Yahweh (golden calf incident) and instead of the entire nation (all 12 tribes) representing the Lord as priests, God adapted the plan and then called just the Levites to be His representatives as priests first to Israel in hopes of then commissioning the entire nation of Israel to the original plan and act as ambassadors of Yahweh. The Old Testament tells a story of covenant, failure, judgment, and hope for restoration. Israel continued to falter. They gave up their theocracy of one God – Yahweh to choose to be led by an earthly king. They drifted farther and farther from the plan until God finally hands them over to their own demise, the exile was a key turning point. Even after the return of the exile to Jerusalem, most scholars believe Israel never returned to the LORD. God longed for Israel to return to the true redemption and the coming of God’s kingdom. Unfortunately, Israel continued to fall short and not seem to live out their calling or commissioning.

Jesus enters the narrative with a similar mission. He doesn’t reject Israel’s story—He steps into it. He comes first to “the lost sheep of Israel” (Matt. 15:24), calling them back to their original vocation. He chooses twelve disciples, clearly symbolizing a reconstitution of the twelve tribes of Israel. This is not incidental—it’s Jesus claiming to be the one who restores and redefines Israel around Himself.

And here’s the key: Jesus is the faithful Israelite. He does what Israel failed to do. He keeps the covenant perfectly, walks in radical obedience, and fulfills Israel’s mission. He is the true Israel (see Matthew 2:15 where Hosea’s words originally spoken about Israel—”out of Egypt I called my son”—are applied to Jesus).

This is why Paul will later say in Galatians 3:16 that the promises were given not to “seeds” (plural) but to one “seed,” who is Christ. In other words, the inheritance of Israel is fulfilled in Jesus—and only those who are “in Him” share in that inheritance. That phrase—”in Christ”—is the dominant identity marker for believers in the New Testament. If Jesus is the true Israel, then those united to Him (Jew or Gentile) are the true people of God.

This point becomes even clearer when we revisit God’s original promise to Abraham in Genesis 12:3: “I will bless those who bless you, and whoever curses you I will curse.” This statement is often lifted out of its covenantal context and applied to modern nations or political support for Israel. However, the Hebrew grammar and narrative context show that the promise was made to Abram himself (the singular “you” in Hebrew, ʾotkha), not to a future geopolitical nation. God’s intention was not to privilege one ethnic group above all others but to initiate a redemptive mission through one man and his descendants—a mission that would culminate in Christ. The blessing is vocational, not nationalistic. Abram is chosen in order to be a blessing, that through him “all the families of the earth will be blessed.”

The apostle Paul interprets this precisely in Galatians 3:16, identifying the “seed” (zeraʿ) of Abraham as Christ Himself. This means that the covenant promise—“I will bless those who bless you”—finds its ultimate fulfillment in Jesus. The “you” now applies to Abraham’s true heir, the Messiah. Those who bless Him—who honor, trust, and align themselves with Jesus—receive the blessing of God; those who reject Him cut themselves off from that blessing. In this way, the Abrahamic covenant points forward to Christ as the locus of divine favor. To bless Abraham’s seed is to embrace the redemptive mission of God revealed in Jesus, and through faith in Him, we become participants in that same blessing.

Paul says Abraham was justified before circumcision (Rom. 4), showing that faith, not ethnicity, is the marker of God’s covenant people. He adds in Romans 2:28–29 that a true Jew is one inwardly, whose heart is circumcised by the Spirit. And in Galatians 3:28 he writes: “There is neither Jew nor Greek… you are all one in Christ Jesus.”

Ephesians 2 expands this beautifully. Paul says that Jesus has broken down the dividing wall and made one new humanity—no longer Jew and Gentile, but one body. Peter echoes this in 1 Peter 2, where he applies all the covenant titles once reserved for Israel (royal priesthood, holy nation, people of God) to the church made up of both Jews and Gentiles.

Paul also uses the metaphor of an olive tree in Romans 11: some natural branches (ethnic Israelites) were broken off because of unbelief, and wild branches (Gentiles) were grafted in. But it’s one tree. There aren’t two peoples of God. There is one new covenant community—those who are in Christ. It’s not about replacing Israel, but about fulfillment—where Jews and Gentiles together form the one people of God in Christ.

This helps clarify what Paul means in Romans 11:26 when he says, “all Israel will be saved.” We don’t believe he’s referring to a future mass conversion of ethnic Jews or suggesting two separate salvation paths. Rather, he’s speaking of the fullness of God’s people: both believing Jews and Gentiles who are part of the one tree through faith in the Messiah. This fits with Paul’s logic throughout Romans and with his statement in Galatians 6:16 that the church is “the Israel of God.”

God has always worked through covenants—and those covenants are centered on trust and faithfulness, not ethnicity alone. From the beginning, covenant relationship with God required loyal love. Even under the Mosaic covenant, Israel’s inclusion was contingent on obedience and faithfulness to Yahweh (Deut 28). Being born into Israel didn’t guarantee blessing—relationship and trust did. (Israelites were never automatically “saved.”) If there was any sense of salvation in the Old Testament it would be under the same “qualifications” as in the New Testament. What God was asking and promising for the faithful doesn’t change from the Old Covenants to the New Covenant.

The New Testament affirms this. While many modern Jews are physical descendants of Abraham, Paul is clear that physical descent is not enough. In Romans 9:6–8, he writes:

Paul emphasizes that covenant identity is now grounded in faith—just as it was with Abraham. As he puts it in Galatians 3:7:

So when we speak of the “people of God” today, we are not referring to a physical nation-state or ethnic group. We are speaking of those “in Christ”—those joined to the faithful Israelite, Jesus.

The modern nation-state of Israel is not the covenant people of the Bible. -If this is a new consideration for you, you might consider reading this article. Most of its citizens do not follow the Mosaic covenant, and the majority have rejected Jesus as Messiah. According to the New Testament, that places them outside of the renewed covenant family—not because of their ancestry, but because God’s covenant has always been about faith.

This doesn’t mean God has abandoned ethnic Jews. Paul says in Romans 11 that he hopes some of his fellow Jews will be provoked to faith. And many Messianic Jews (Jewish believers in Jesus) are part of the body of Christ. But the boundary marker is no longer ethnicity or Torah observance—it is faith in Jesus.

All of this leads us to say: the true Israel (or Israelite) is Jesus. And those “in Him,” whether Jew or Gentile, are heirs to the promises, the calling, and the covenant. God is not partial (and never has been, even with Israel as many gentiles were welcome to join them, a mixed multitude – Hebrew and gentile – left Egypt in the Exodus becoming “Israel”, and some even found themselves in the lineage of Christ Himself) —He welcomes all who come to Him through Christ.

We also need to think about our family in Christ as those that are allegiant to the New Covenant calling rather than those that are nationalistically / inter-nationalistically aligned with groups that subtly “claim to be allied with God” but are not living out the Way of Jesus or bearing fruit for the Kingdom of Christ. There is only one kingdom of Christ, and you can’t serve two masters. For generations many have claimed to be part of Israel or want to be somehow grafted into salvation but haven’t followed the devotion that God has desired and look nothing like Jesus or act in a way worthy of bearing His image. Jesus seemed to paint this picture vividly and make this very clear in the sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7).

This is not replacement theology.1 God has not rejected Israel and replaced her with or even outside of the church. Rather, the church is the fulfillment of Israel’s story (and Adam and Eve’s story for that matter) —expanded to include all nations through union with Jesus, the faithful Israelite, this was the plan of redemption that “all nations”, or everyone was offerred from the beginning. The promises of God have not been scrapped or reassigned; they find their “yes and amen” in Christ (2 Corinthians 1:20). The covenant people of God have always been marked by faith and loyalty to Him—and in the new covenant, that means allegiance and devotion to Yahweh through Jesus accepting and claiming that victory and receiving the gift of the Holy Spirit as a sign of the holy royal priesthood. Jew and Gentile together form the one new man, the reconstituted people of God.

  1. Replacement theology, doctrine holding that Christians have replaced the Jewish people as the chosen people of God or as the heirs of the divine-human covenant described in the Hebrew Bible. The theology is also referred to as supersessionism, in which Christianity is thought to have superseded Judaism. It is closely related to fulfillment theology, which holds that Christianity has fulfilled the divine promises signaled in the Hebrew Bible. These ideas appear to be suggested in some of the earliest Christian texts, such as writings of St. Paul the Apostle, and subsequent Christian theologians have strengthened the opposition of Judaism and Christianity in ways that have informed relations between Christians and Jews. In the 20th century many Christian theologians and even church doctrines replaced replacement theology with more-nuanced or inclusive models that support more-amicable interreligious relations.

    https://www.britannica.com/topic/Replacement-theology ↩︎

Seminary Discipleship

When you harmonize the gospels, you likely come to the conclusion that Jesus called the disciples 3x. The last time He gets very specific and asks them to leave everything on the beach, don’t look back, stay with Me completely and “walk” completely with Me. In our modern Western world this first century calling to discipleship seems almost impossible. I have spent my whole life challenging myself and other people to this level of discipleship, and I am just about convinced that in modern America people just aren’t willing. I have found one exception… seminary training. Unfortunately, this isn’t the case with all seminary experiences but at The King’s Commission (TKC) we believe that this is the closest pathway to what first century discipleship under Jesus would have looked like. Study daily, be mentored, read, listen, discuss, dive deep into a community that is likeminded to experience the full breadth (completeness) of Jesus and the Church. 

What a time it must have been, when Jesus shared his words and heart with his disciples (students) for the three years of his earthly ministry! They saw his compassionate healings, marveled at his miraculous power, listened to his word, saw his glory (Matt. 17:1-13), were humbled by his servant-leadership (Matt. 20:25-28, John 13:1-20). We believe you can still experience that same feeling with Jesus through TKC.

Seminary is something similar to those three years with Jesus. In many ways, of course, it is different. Jesus didn’t need to teach his disciples how to read Hebrew and Greek. He didn’t need to teach them post-canonical church history, because at the time there wasn’t any. And although he didn’t give letter grades, he regularly evaluated their progress. TKC has sought to stay as true to this dynamic model as possible. 

Discipleship is about commitment, not to a program or a pattern but to the person of Jesus Christ.

Perhaps one of the Western world modern challenges we face is to see seminary throughout the context of discipleship rather than simply education.  Seminary is more than academic training; it is a spiritual journey. The Latin “seminarium” or “seedbed”—captures the deeper purpose: cultivating hearts that bear spiritual fruit.  Seminary, properly pursued, fosters a “taproot” in believers—vertical depth before horizontal spread—so lives become steadier, more rooted, and more fruit-bearing. 

A testimony from one of the students that Dr. Ryan has discipled and now is regularly involved with in local church ministry, Paul Lazzaroni:

My own seminary experience (Paul) shifted my perspective. The draw to a deeper understanding of the scriptures came simply from a hunger to know Christ more.  After a previous failed attempt at a well-known Bible College, 7 years later I was invited to apply at seminary.  It wasn’t until I handed in some of my first course work that my understanding of seminary began to shift from simply retaining information to spiritual transformation.  My advisor challenged me not just to retain facts but to articulate why I believed what I believed. That invitation to integrate intellect and devotion opened a deeper adoration for Christ. Many Western educational systems emphasize information retention; seminary (like Hebraic Torah study) invites transformation, not mere accumulation of facts. 

For me, this wasn’t just a different way of seeing education, this was a journey down a path that the early disciples took with Jesus.  

Hebraic culture treated study as a spiritual discipline linked to life and covenant faithfulness. Torah study functioned as devotion and formation, shaping how people lived before the LORD. From Eden through Sinai to Jesus, Scripture consistently calls for faithful allegiance expressed in obedience and transformed hearts.  The word seminary itself is not nearly as old as the scriptures, but the heart behind the journey through seminary ties directly into the first and greatest commandment of Jesus “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’  Mat 22:37

The word seminary (seminarium) means “seed bed”. Even our word semen finds its origins here.  Semen without an egg to fertilize is a source of life that is seeking a host.  Humankind is designed to replicate the source of life that heals, that restores, and that multiplies that which gives life, but the spirit of God needs a seed bed and Jesus himself consistently goes back to talking about the heart of the matter as though this is the seed bed of the human being.  

Paul’s example in the New Testament reinforces this same type of spiritual journey.  Despite his rigorous education as Saul, his encounter with Christ began a multi-year (14) process of spiritual formation (Acts 9; Galatians 1). Conversion was a beginning that required unlearning, relearning, and sustained growth. Seminary can be that structured season of deepening, where encounter and study mature into faithful living.  

Over centuries, what ought to be a life-changing journey of spiritual study has sometimes become a path to prestige, income, or institutional advancement.  From the establishment of the early church, there has been a slow evolution away from this type of devotion towards educational advancement. In the 15th and 16thcentury, the church experienced a large pivot deeper into the intellectual moving further away from the spiritual journey.  This pivot began with a bold, spirit led move by Martin Luther to stand up against the hierarchical system that the Catholic Church had established, however much of what we still experience today is a war of the minds.  The downfall of humanity began when we attempted to reason through all the things of life without the spirit of God.  In doing so, we give up is the divine journey with Jesus himself as the teacher.  When theological training serves personal gain rather than formation, the church loses its capacity to cultivate compassionate, faithful leaders—gardeners rather than dictators. Seminary must resist reducing theology to a résumé item; it should invite humility, compassion, and a lifelong devotion to learning and obedience.

For those of us who have had simply one encounter with Jesus, we know that it was a profound spiritual moment.  My prayer would be that there was a flame that was lit.  If you have yet to do so, seek out the fan that ignites that flame.  Over the centuries, what was meant to be the most incredible journey of our lives by means of study, has transformed into hierarchical astuteness for the advancement of primarily worldly pursuits.  This transformation of higher education has led to the creation of many learning systems that operate without spiritual context and in my opinion simultaneously void the presence and power of the spirit of God.  

If seminary is understood as a seedbed for spiritual formation, it belongs to any disciple who wants to deepen devotion, understanding, and faithful practice—not only to those who pursue clerical office. It equips Christians to study Scripture faithfully (hermeneutics and exegesis), to integrate head and heart, and to live a long-haul obedience that reflects covenant faithfulness.  This is the direct invitation from Jesus, the ancient of days, the word become flesh, the author and perfecter of life.  Let us not waste our eternal invitation to follow in the dust of him.  I pray the path of Yahweh draws many into this kind of lifelong study and devotion.  

Written by Dr. Will Ryan and Paul Lazzaroni

The Journey… here and now (TAKE 2)

Whenever I read Ecclesiastes, I can’t help but to start humming “Turn! Turn! Turn! (To Everything There Is a Season)”, a song written by Pete Seeger in the late 1950s. The lyrics are adapted nearly word-for-word from the English King James Version of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8. In the U.S., the song holds distinction as the number one hit with the oldest lyrics. I sometimes Joke that Seeger got more people to memorize scripture than any pastor in history. However, you remember it, at some point you have likely contemplated the questions it raises. Although I am sure you have hummed the tune, too many people go through life without ever stopping to “really” ponder a very simple question, “what connection do you have to Jesus and His kingdom and what should that mean to you in this life?” That is the question Ecclesiastes raises to their audience and is as relevant 2500 years later, today – as it was the day it was written.

I am often perplexed by busy western culture people. There seems to be a conundrum of life that might have us too busy to simply stop and think through life or perhaps enable those thoughts into life-change. Those that have learned to stop and smell the roses have often been met with innumerable blessing. Different people react to different things and perhaps for you it is a song, or a movie, a passing of a loved one, or tragedy that has challenged you to stop and consider some of the more philosophical questions of life and reconsider what means most to us.

Mircea Eliade was a Romanian philosopher, and professor at the University of Chicago who became one of the most influential scholars of religion of the 20th century and interpreter of religious experience, he established paradigms in religious studies that persist to this day. He helped us recognize the “myth of eternal return” in the ancient world. The idea that every culture has had some kind of circle of life (as Disney later adopted it). From the Aztecs 27,000 year cycle, to the Hebraic 50 years of Jubilee year, including every seven years a sabbatical year, most cultures have recognized some cycle of life. In our culture New Years is a day of rethinking the past and taking on a resolution to do better in the coming year. In some way shape or form, I think everyone has considered the notion of re-examining their life cycles with the hopes to take action to a better way of life.

There is a relational connection of words in the New Testament that are translated as belief, faith, and hope, and what they all have in common is the notion of reliance, confidence, and trust. It is trust that puts you in contact with God so you can draw upon his unlimited and inexhaustible character. Unfortunately, many folks have their faith lined up in such a way that they do not need to rely on God. They do not need to trust God. They have a proper faith in terms of what they need to believe to go to heaven when they die, but they hope that God is never going to put them in a position of needing to actually trust him before they go there. It is this sort of “grappling” or “wrestling” in our faith that often brings us to a better sense of life.

Jon Gibson has uncovered something beautifully for us. As we reflect, remember, resolve and contemplate things more significant in this life, I am betting that we have seen seasons and have hopefully travelled to a better place of life through these journeys. But perhaps the best is yet to come for you. Perhaps there is something more going on in this life. Maybe there is a sense of orchestration in the ordinary that has led us to beautiful places even in the messiness or busyness of our modern life cycles. Most of us wouldn’t choose the courses of our past but we also wouldn’t choose to remove them from our lives. That seems to be an ontological fact of existence that we have in common. We are on a sentient journey. Jon tells story after story that you will find yourself not only deeply engaged with, but then turning your thoughts inward to consider your own journey and be shepherded to a better understanding of God’s majestic and far-reaching love, grace, and compassion.

What about you? Have you ever wondered about the greater questions of your faith? What about relationship dynamics and how they are influenced by God? Have you thought about legacy and the little things that point to the greater aspects of your spiritual person? What about taking the time to work through some if these thoughts, a mind retreat that engages action. In the big picture, if you are part of God’s family, we are all part of a return to Eden. But maybe that is less about heaven and more about your choices today. There is still time for God to being Heaven to earth through you. I think you will find that this book might be just what you need to start moving towards these feelings in your life.

I pray that in the pages of this masterful piece that you will find peace, comfort, and a sense of direction in the fact that somehow God is working out His plan within the pages of your life journey.  Behind it all is His invisible hand. That’s comforting. Perhaps in the tears and fears, joy and grief, success and failure, helping and hurting; we will understand the immense love that Jon has so beautifully given us through his connections to Jesus. I pray that on this journey you may be captivated by these seasons and find a sense of peace but also action.

 “The more beauty of God you capture today in your heart today, the greater the beauty you will find in your next season.”  Don’t cast your seasons to the wind until you have grabbed hold of its beauty and set it in your heart for eternity.

Dr. Will Ryan

President of the King’s Commission School of Divinity

_____________________________________________

This article is intended to be a catalyst to Jon Gibson’s book “HERE AND NOW” to be released in 2026.

For the more “scholarly “academic” version of this article CLICK HERE.

The Bible

Let’s start with some fun facts… 1

#1 There is no physical description of Jesus in the Bible.

It’s difficult to believe, but we don’t really know what Jesus looked like, there’s no actual description of Him in the Bible.

#2 David had blood on his hands.

Before David was 18 years old, he killed 200 Philistines as a dowry for marriage to King Saul’s daughter. In the middle of his life, David slew the men of seven hundred chariots of the Syrians, and forty thousand horsemen (2 Samuel 10:18) or seven thousand men which fought in chariots, and forty thousand footmen (as recorded in 1 Chronicles 19:18). David killed every male in Edom (1 Kings 11:15.) Then in 2 Samuel 11, towards the end of his life, David sleeps with Bathsheba, and has her Husband killed. Some attest that David killed under God, or that God was ok with it but 1 Chronicles 22:8 seems to say otherwise, it tells us that God did not to allow David to build the temple: “You have shed much blood and have fought many wars. You are not to build a house for my Name, because you have shed much blood on the earth in my sight.” Furthermore, according to 1 Chronicles 21: 1, 5-14 God killed 70,000 men because of David’s continued sins. In one of his final acts as King of Israel, David gives his son and heir Solomon a hit list — “a last will and testament worthy of a dying Mafia capo,” says Bible scholar and translator Robert Alter — and the biblical scene may have been the inspiration for the final scene of The Godfather.

#3 The shortest verse in the Bible Is two words (three in the original Greek).

John 11:35 says that after his friend Lazarus died, “Jesus wept.” In Greek, it’s actually three words, Edakrysen ho Iēsous, but it’s still the shortest.

#4 The complete Christian Bible has been translated into 756 languages.

This is approximately 10% of all existing languages.

#5 The number of books in the Bible varies.

All Christian Bibles contain at least 39 books in the Old Testament and 27 books in the New Testament for a total of 66. However, numbers vary between different Christian denominations. The Catholic Bible contains 73 books, while Orthodox Bibles contain between 79-86 books since there is no universally sanctioned canon in the Orthodox churches.

#6 The Bible is the best-selling book in the world.

The Guinness Book of World Records says the Bible is both the best-selling and the most widely disseminated book in the world. (It is also the number one shoplifted item in the world.)

#7 God is never specifically alluded to in the Book of Esther.

In this book, Esther is a Jewish heroine who ultimately saves her people from a murderous plot. However, one interesting fact about the book of Esther is that God is never mentioned at all in the story, causing some, such as Protestant Reformer Martin Luther, to argue that it shouldn’t be included in the Bible at all. 

#8 Genesis contains two different stories of the creation of humans.

Genesis 1 says God created humans who merely appear at his insistence. But in Genesis 2, God forms a man (Hebrew: Adam) out of dust and breathes life into him. Later, he takes a rib from Adam to create Eve. Some say the story is recursive, some say it is a continuation of the first story.

#9 Many common phrases in the modern world originated with the Bible.

“Apple of my eye” — Deuteronomy 2:10
“Wolf in sheep’s clothing” — Matthew 7:15
“By the skin of our teeth” — Job 19:20
“Drop in the bucket” — Isaiah 40:15

Some have attested that there are more than 300 of these.2

#10 It wasn’t until the 13th century CE that chapters and verses were added.

The Masoretes were groups of Jewish scribe-scholars who worked from around the end of the 5th through 10th centuries CE. Each group compiled a system of pronunciation and grammatical guides in the form of diacritical notes (niqqud niqqud or nikud “dottin), on the external form of the biblical text in an attempt to standardize the pronunciation, paragraph and verse divisions, and cantillation of the Hebrew Bible. However, there are approximately 875 differences in opinion on the interpretation of the punctuation throughout the Hebrew Bible. 3 The Masoretes devised the vowel notation system for Hebrew that is still widely used, as well as the trope symbols used for cantillation.4 The original writings of the Bible had no divisions between verses (or even letters). Stephen Langton, an Archbishop of Canterbury, created the modern chapter divisions in 1227 CE.

#11 We have no original writings of any Biblical book.

One shocking fact about the Bible is that the manuscripts we have of every book of the Bible are copies of copies of copies of copies, etc.

#12 Paul probably didn’t say that women should be silent in church.

In 1 Corinthians 14, Paul is instructing the church at Corinth on how to worship in an orderly manner. Suddenly, though, in verses 34-35, he writes several sentences about how women should not speak in church. Scholars have long recognized that a later scribe probably added this to Paul’s letter. If you take out those sentences, the book makes more sense.

#13 The book of Genesis was written by three different authors.

Most people think Moses write all 5 books of the Torah, but scholars would strongly disagree. Genesis alone was written by at least three authors. As we don’t know specifically who the authors were, we call these authors J, E, and P. The J source called God “Yahweh” (J is the first letter in the German spelling of Yahweh). The E source called God “Elohim” and the P source stands for “priestly” since that author was mostly concerned with ceremonial rules and requirements for priests. The author of Deuteronomy is also then referred to as “D” as he seems to be another author.

#14 The oldest complete Bible dates to the 4th century.

It’s called Codex Sinaiticus and contains the entire Old and New Testaments, plus some books that were later excluded.

#15 The authors of the New Testament read the Greek version of the Old Testament — called the Septuagint —rather than the Hebrew.

This led to some interesting mistranslations. One of the most interesting was made in Isaiah 7:14 which says “Look, the young woman is with child and shall bear a son and shall name him Immanuel.” The Greek translation, however, changed the word “almah,” meaning “young woman,” to “virgin.” This would later be used by the author of Matthew as proof of Jesus’ virgin birth.


The Bible is God’s Word, and the Word was flesh, but the Bible isn’t God or Jesus Himself. Does that actually make sense?

A good friend of mine has put it like this, “Biblicism assumes every verse carries the same weight, that Leviticus 20 and Luke 15 should be read exactly the same way—regardless of covenant, context, or Christ. That sounds faithful. But it’s not.5

Because when every word carries the same weight, you can make the Bible say anything you want.

And today, that’s exactly what’s happening.
Verses are ripped out of context to extort personal motives
To silence grief.
To justify violence.
To control others.

The Bible is primarily a narrative love story of covenant faithfulness, one encounter after another telling stories of transparent interactions with the Lord.

The Bible is told in times of ancient cultures and characters that may or may not have application to us today. It was not written to us but for us.6 There isn’t anything systematic about it. We attempt to codify, analyze, and organize and to some degree then lose touch with the central theme, the growing disconnection between humanity and the God that created them with intention of exactly the opposite, growing infinitely together, rather than apart. We want to read the story through our own western eyes, but the genre falls far short of those expectations. The Bible is a book about failures and triumphs, despair and hope and the river of human emotions of living in this broken world. The text speaks to us, not in creeds and doctrines and religious acronyms but in very plain verbiage that appeals to all.

Brian Zahnd, puts it this way,7 I’m an ancient Egyptian. I’m a comfortable Babylonian. I’m a Roman in his villa. That’s my problem. See, I’m trying to read the Bible for all it’s worth, but I’m not a Hebrew slave suffering in Egypt. I’m not a conquered Judean deported to Babylon. I’m not a first century Jew living under Roman occupation. I’m a citizen of a superpower. I was born among the conquerors. I live in the empire. But I want to read the Bible and think it’s talking to me. This is a problem.

The Essenes, Pharisees, Sadducees, and other first century groups didn’t necessarily share the same “canon” (the word didn’t even exist at that time) but they did have sacred writings, writings that facilitated their practice of living according to God’s will.  When you really think about the relationship between our chosen Bible and the religious practice of groups today, it’s pretty much the same thing.  Perhaps we need to keep this in mind when we engage in debate about the meaning of any particular text.8

That said, the Holy Spirit does not provide an unambiguous interpretation of every given text. Every time we read the Bible we have to interpret what we read. Interpreting just means making sense of a text—it is not a special skill reserved for difficult passages. The ways we go about making sense of the Bible will be influenced by our frames of reference and cultural expectations. Sometimes these can interfere with our ability to hear the intended meaning of the biblical authors.

Keeping in mind the origin of the Bible and overall purpose of Scripture can help orient our expectations as we read. When reading a particular text, we should consider the author’s intentions, literary forms and conventions, language, and cultural background of the original audience.9

Vernon K. Robbins in his book, Exploring the Texture of Texts: A Guide to Socio-Rhetorical Interpretation says that words themselves work in complicated ways to communicate meanings that we only partially understand” and in “that meanings themselves have their meanings by their relation to other meanings”. Given these presuppositions, any serious reader will benefit by exploring the multiple layers or the many textures of texts.10

The Bible is not a Western scientific book.  Its categories of reality are not the categories of our scientific perspective.  Its view of life is not the compartmentalized packaging of research.  It does not seek to predict and control. “The categories of the Bible are not principles to be comprehended but events to be continued.  The life of him who joins the covenant of Abraham continues the life of Abraham.  Abraham endures forever.  We are Abraham, Isaac, Jacob.”11

Heschel’s insight should cause us to reconsider how we regard the Bible.  In the West we are likely to view the Bible as a sourcebook for spiritual insights or a jumbled systematic theology or a God-inspired Boy Scout handbook of answers to life’s perplexing questions.  What we usually do not think about the Bible is that it is simply a record of God’s encounters with Israel.  We don’t see the Bible as a story, a recollection of the emotional involvement of God and men.  We think of the Bible as a book of spiritual information rather than a history of divine encounters.  Heschel is right.  If we think of the Bible from a Western point of view, we will look for the “21 irrefutable principles” rather than recognizing the emotional reaction of awe.  We will read the Bible as if it were Fodor’s guidebook to life on earth rather than reading it as the expressions of men and women who discovered God’s presence along the way.

When Isaiah says that the “word of our God” stands forever, does he mean that all those theological categories, divine attributes, creedal answers, and holy platitudes are eternal?  Or does he mean that the experience of God found in prophetic revelation is always life transforming?  Is Isaiah writing about Messianic prophecies or is he describing what it means to be overwhelmed by God’s holiness?  If “word” debar is the speaking of God (not the written words in our biblical texts), then the record we have is not the same as hearing God’s word.  The record is second-hand information; the voice is the direct encounter with majesty.  Perhaps the Bible is what’s left over after God reveals Himself.12

If this is a new conversation to you I would recommend starting with Simply Christian and then trying The Day the Revolution Began both by NT Wright. The first book will give you a scent of Wright’s Big Story, and the second wades into the details. Wright’s genius in my opinion is challenging the questions that Luther and Calvin tried to answer when reforming the Roman Catholic Church in the 16th century. He is an evangelical writing to evangelicals. But he thinks that evangelicals should basically start over when interpreting the Bible’s bigger story. While I do not end up subscribing to everything he maintains, listening to him challenge long-held views within the Western Christian tradition is refreshing and will lead us to think for ourselves, especially when trying to rethink our original questions.

  1. https://www.bartehrman.com/facts-about-the-bible/ ↩︎
  2. https://home.snu.edu/~hculbert/sayings.htm ↩︎
  3. Louis Ginzberg, Caspar Levias. “Ben Naphtali”Jewish Encyclopedia. ↩︎
  4. Sommer, Benjamin D. (1999). “Revelation at Sinai in the Hebrew Bible and in Jewish Theology”The Chicago Journal of Religion79 (3): 422–451. doi:10.1086/490456ISSN 0022-4189 – via University of Chicago Press. ↩︎
  5. https://pauldazet.substack.com/p/the-bible-isnt-the-fourth-member ↩︎
  6. https://www.biola.edu/blogs/good-book-blog/2021/scripture-is-for-us-but-not-to-us ↩︎
  7. https://brianzahnd.com/2014/02/problem-bible/ ↩︎
  8. Avivah Gottlieb Zornberg, The Particulars of Rapture: Reflections on Exodus (Schocken Books, New York: 2001), p. 2. ↩︎
  9. https://biologos.org/common-questions/how-should-we-interpret-the-bible ↩︎
  10. Vernon K. Robbins. Exploring the Texture of Texts: A Guide to Socio-Rhetorical
    Interpretation. Valley Forge, Pennsylvania: Trinity Press International, 1996. x + 148
    pp. $15.00, paper, ISBN 978-1-56338-183-6. ↩︎
  11.  Abraham Heschel, Man’s Quest for God, p. 88 ↩︎
  12. https://skipmoen.com/2023/07/the-bible-at-large-rewind/ ↩︎

 time – treasure – talent – testimony

What does it look like to give all of yourself to Jesus?

DISCUSSION QUESTION: How much do you give to the Lord?

In the classic Old Testament Hebraic mindset the answer should be, “all that you have been given.” In other words, everything is the Lord’s and should be given back to Him. You have simply been entrusted to the “assets” of the kingdom for a short time. This is the circular dance of grace. (Patronage and Reciprocity: The Context of Grace in the New Testament by David A. DeSilva)

In our western thinking this is likely where we get the original audience’s interpretation of Biblical giving wrong… thinking that God just requires a tithe (confused with OT passages), or that there are no strings attached to Grace.

Grace is free but it also might have some strings attached. To be clear, Grace is totally free, but if you’re going to follow the Lord then you should follow the Lord with all that you are and have been given and freely give back all that you are and have been endowed with- which to some sounds like attached strings.

To most Americans the idea that God wants everything doesn’t sit very well.  What would alter calls sound like if we told people the whole story before we asked them to put their hand up! It even becomes more uncomfortable as Christian Americans when you ask somebody if they love money. Nearly every American does. Christian Americans are in a little bit of a wrestling match because they want to proclaim that they don’t love money; yet the giant mortgages, lifelong debt, and working around the clock every week say otherwise. It sure looks like we all love money, and that’s actually the implication of I Timothy 6:10.

The word “love of money” is philarguros, literally, “a friend of silver.” This is a Greek verb that was used in the scriptural context to describe brothers and sisters of one body (which we like to call the church in present day language -that’s up for argument though.) Today, it would seem that money is root of more church problems and family dynamics than anything else I can think of. That’s why TOV doesn’t want much to do with it. It didn’t seem like Jesus wanted much to do with money and His version of first century “church” didn’t either. Have you ever considered the idea that Judas was the money keeper and the one-time Jesus was asked to pay for something it didn’t come from that bag, but from coins out of a fish his Father provided? What could that imply? Jesus didn’t own a church building but occasionally visited the temple which He does refer to as His father’s house.

Essentially the Hebraic way of living is that your complete life is a gift. This gift is a reciprocal dance mirroring what God has given you. Total humility, complete giving back of what you have been given, and utter devotion to your Father.

In the hands of the follower of the Way, contentment is a sign of trust in the grace and mercy of God. From the biblical point of view, the only reason a man or woman can entertain contentment is because God is good. His provision is sufficient. Greed leads away from Him and towards the love of things of the world separating us from the Love of Christ.

Is the love of money or money itself the root of evil? I don’t really think it matters… what matters is that God wants all of us to mirror all of what God has given us. And from the biblical authors mindset money had very little to do with any of that kind of thinking. It is the posture of the heart.

DISCUSSION QUESTION: We often say, TOV isn’t looking for a tithe. Discuss why a more Biblical perspective isn’t centered around “money or serving” but on deeper devotion of your “whole” person.

  • BECOME A MONTHLY “PATRON” PARTNER – Discuss how this mindset is different than a tithe

    Sometimes we don’t give much to the donation boxes and it is hard to bless people when need arises. We want to bless generously. Consider gifting monthly so that we can buy people groceries, feed the hungry & homeless, and take a financial strain off a family for a season. There aren’t any tov salaries, mortgage payments or utilities to pay… all of your giving goes right to an ACTS 2 need. Together we can make a better kingdom investment. Right now We want to buy a car for another anonymous family and need $2500 that we don’t have.

  • We need car donations; we have a mechanic that will fix things. And we can give away these cars or sell them on the marketplace. If you know of someone selling a car ask them to donate it.

Giving: You don’t need to “make time or space” for God if all of your time, treasure and talents (sacred space) are His. In the same regard, you don’t need to consider giving a percentage of your financial resources if you are of the mindset that it is all His and you are merely the Spirit led steward of it.

To set up recurring payments on Venmo, follow these steps

  1. Open the Venmo app and log in to your account.
  2. Access the “Settings” menu and find the “Payments” or “Payment Methods” option.
  3. Look for the “Recurring Payments” or “Automatic Payments” section and select it.
  4. Choose the frequency and dates for the payment (monthly, weekly, or bi-weekly).
  5. Confirm the payment amount and select “Schedule Payment”