All The Saints (part 10)

In addressing this question, it is necessary to revert to the Levitical code.  In the twenty-first chapter of Leviticus, restrictions are placed upon the priesthood, who are those that could serve in the Temple.  Beginning in verse sixteen one reads: “The Lord God spoke to Moses: ‘Tell Aaron, “No man from your descendants throughout their generations who has a physical flaw is to approach to present the food of his God.”’” (Leviticus 21:16-17) 

Notice the use of “present,” which also shows up in the key verse in Colossians that could very well be alluding to the Temple.  Continuing, “Certainly no man who has a physical flaw is to approach: a blind man, or one who is lame, or one with a slit nose, or a limb too long, or a man who has had a broken leg or arm, or a hunchback, or a dwarf, or one with a spot in his eye, or a festering eruption, or a feverish rash, or a crushed testicle.  No man from the descendants of Aaron the priest who has a physical flaw may step forward to present the Lord’s gifts; he has a physical flaw, so he must not step forward to present the food of his God.  He may eat both the most holy and the holy food of his God, but he must not go into the veil-canopy or step forward to the altar because he has a physical flaw.  Thus he must not profane My holy places, for I am the Lord who sanctifies them” (21:18-23). 

Certainly, it is with little difficulty that one can compare the language here with Paul’s insistence that Jesus has presented those that were previously looked upon as completely unworthy, as described here in the Leviticus passage, as “holy, without blemish, and blameless.”  Of course, this is also the language of animals offered in sacrifice, which can lead to an equally valid discussion of the sacrificial nature of the Christian life and of unity in purpose with the one sacrificed. 

However, as the context deals with the inclusion of people under the covenant, the application can and should be here restricted to people and their entrance upon the covenant (their justification).  Importantly, in a period of time in which Gentiles (unholy, blemished, blameless) were not allowed to enter into the Temple proper, Paul is insistent (via Ephesians), that they not only enter into the Temple, but that they are a fundamental component of the Temple of the Creator God itself.   

To effectively make the point about the way of thinking then in play about the entrance of Gentiles into the Temple in the time of Paul, one can once again venture to the book of Acts.  As stated before, though Acts would have been composed after the time of the writing of the letter to Colossians or Ephesians, as a historical work with a deep and abiding theological concern, it does provide relevant information concerning the period, especially in terms of the general attitude of Jews towards Gentiles.  This was well demonstrated by the previous look at chapters thirteen and fifteen of Acts.  For purposes of this study at this point, it is necessary turn to Acts twenty-one. 

Here one finds the story of Paul’s return journey to Jerusalem.  To adequately appreciate the service provided by this chapter to the Temple-related assertion from Colossians, it is necessary to quote it at length.  Beginning in verse seventeen Luke writes, “When we arrived in Jerusalem, the brothers welcomed us gladly.  The next day Paul went in with us to see James, and all the elders were there.  When Paul had greeted them, he began to explain in detail what God had done among the Gentiles through his ministry” (21:17-19).  

Presentations Of Jesus (part 2 of 2)

Take, for instance, a story that makes its way into all four Gospel portraits of Jesus, which is the feeding of the five thousand.  All four of the Gospel accounts present the feeding in much the same form.  However, after the story of the feeding, Luke diverges completely from the story-line on offer in Matthew, Mark, and John.  John maintains the same story-line following the feeding, though it differs in a significant detail as it relates to the purposes of this study. 

In each case, it should be acknowledged that the author uses the story of the feeding, along with what follows, within the goals that they have set for the overall presentation of Jesus that they intend to set before the respective audiences for which they are composing their written account (which will be based on a hugely reliable oral tradition and likely other ironically and potentially less reliable written records---an oral tradition was subject to correction and maintenance by the community, whereas a written record could be used to propagate and disseminate information that stood outside of the oral tradition, with no means for immediate correction). 

As Mark’s narrative is generally considered to be the oldest, being foundational for both Matthew and Luke, it is worthwhile to take a look at what is to be found there.  Operating within a full realization that there is a purpose related to the structuring of the narrative, the sixth chapter of Mark records that Jesus feeds a multitude through the multiplication of bread and fish, doing so by the Sea of Galilee.  Then, drawing the feeding together with what comes after, and doing so for the purpose of the author’s narrative, Mark goes on to report that “Immediately Jesus made His disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, to Bethsaida, while He dispersed the crowd” (6:45). 

Having retired to the mountain to pray after sending off His disciples, it is said that from His vantage point Jesus could observe His disciples on the water.  “He saw them straining at the oars, because the wind was against them” (6:48a).  Mark then reports that Jesus came to His disciples, “walking on the sea” (6:48c), which caused great fear amongst those men.  Ultimately, “He went up with them into the boat, and the wind ceased” (6:51a).  Matthew reports nearly the same story, but adds Peter’s attempt to walk on the sea, which is not to be found in Mark.  That’s not to say that somehow one of the authors got it wrong, but that the authors had different purposes for their tellings of the Jesus story. 

Luke moves in a different direction, omitting the second part of the story that is found in the other Gospels, not because he did not believe it, but because it did not fit with his overall movement and aims.  John’s is fundamentally the same, reporting a rough sea and a strong wind (6:18), though there is no report of the ceasing of the wind once Jesus gets into the boat.  Instead, John reports that “immediately the boat came to the land where they had been heading” (6:21b).  Clearly however, John’s report, like that of Matthew and Mark, is meant to demonstrate the power of the Creator God at work in Jesus, which is to be expected if He is indeed the Messiah of Israel. 

So what’s the point?  It is at this point that one returns to the idea that the Scriptures were undoubtedly searched by both Jesus and those that would write the Gospel accounts, so as to make sense of the mission and of the reports of that mission.  Such thoughts, together with the stories of the feeding of the multitude, the walking on water, and the calming of the wind, lead to the Psalms.  In the seventy eighth Psalm, keeping in mind the purposely structured Gospel narrative of feeding and then the control of nature and the desire to show forth their understanding of Jesus as the manifestation of the Creator God in the flesh, while also acknowledging that this was a reflection on the exodus and wilderness experience of Israel, marked similarities with the Gospel accounts of these occurrences are to be found in the reading: “He rained down manna for them to eat; He gave them the grain of heaven.  Man ate the food of the mighty ones.  He sent them more than enough to eat.  He brought the east wind through the sky, and by His strength led forth the south wind” (78:24-26). 

Only Son (part 14)

Eternal life, therefore, must be understood to be a part of the Creator God’s intentions for the beings that He created in and as His image, as well as the creation over which that being was set in rule.  For man, this can be extrapolated from the existence of the tree of life and the point made to bar the way of the fallen image-bearer from accessing the tree.  For the creation, this can be extrapolated from the insistence that all of the creation fell from a state of eternality of life when Adam (its steward) fell. 

The Apostle Paul would seem to be making an explicit reference to this type of understanding in the eighth chapter of Romans, when he writes that “creation was subjected to futility---not willingly” (8:20a), while also going on to make the point that the creation awaits a time of restoration when it “will also be set free from the bondage of decay into the glorious freedom of God’s children” (8:21).  If only Adam had believed the Creator---trusted, relied upon, adhered to the commandment while believing in the associated promise---it could be surmised that neither he nor the creation would have experienced decay and death.  If he had believed, he would not have perished. 

Having covered so much ground, and having done so much to at least partially construct a more appropriate mindset in which to hear the words of Jesus, it is now possible to connect some of the dots, discovering part of what is being communicated in the Nicodemus/Jesus dialogue, and interpreting John 3:16 in light of the experience of Adam as revealed in the Hebrews Scriptures and as told as part of Israel’s historical self-understanding and as part of their God’s overall purposes for mankind, to which Jesus appeals in order to legitimate His mission as that of the promised and long-awaited Son of Man. 

The Creator God indeed loved the world that He is understood to have created and set in order.  He loved it so much that He made a being in His own image (as His image)---a son---and placed that being in the world.  As part of His creation, He also loved this son.  He is understood to have given that son responsibilities and a commandment, asking that son to believe in Him, so as to be able to faithfully and rightly perform His duties in the world, before his Creator.  If that son did in fact believe in the God that had created Him and given him his position, then we would have eternal life.

If he did not believe in his Creator, and did not exhibit trust in His word such that he did not live up to the terms of the covenant that had been set for and with him, then the result of that dis-belief and the forsaking of His expressed purpose in and for the world, would be that He would perish.  His fate would be shared by the much loved realm over which he had been set.  He would be exiled from that place of purpose, forfeiting access to that which granted eternal life, which, in reality, is the unbroken relationship with the Creator as His exact image, and thereby losing eternal life itself.  What ultimately perished was trust, and therefore his union with his Maker, which was the source of that life.  Quite naturally then, to perish at the hands of death was the only logical result.  Such was the history of the Creator God’s initial sending of His son into the world.  Coming to grips with this provides a portion of the much-needed framework for an understanding of Jesus’ mission. 

With all of this said and hopefully absorbed, one becomes able to more effectively peer into the historical context that surrounded these famous words of Jesus, reflecting on the fact that the Creator God’s love for the world, His sending of His Son, the necessity of belief, and the subsequent reception of eternal life, could and would cause Nicodemus to hearken to the “beginning of the story,” and the story of Adam and his fall.  

Nebuchadnezzar's Fall (part 5)

As man is driven from the good and bountiful garden, which had freely yielded the fruit of the trees for his sustenance, he is informed about a different way that his food is going to come to him from that point forward.  The Creator God told Adam, “cursed is the ground thanks to you; in painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life.  It will produce thorns and thistles for you, but you will eat the grain of the field” (Genesis 3:17b-18).  This eating of the grain of the field---of what grows from the ground---could be likened to Nebuchadnezzar’s being “fed grass like oxen,” as both are now going to be eating what grows from the ground, as they live among the wild animals, rather than having plenteous quantities of food delivered to them by their humble servants. 

Humble servants?  In Adam’s case, because he was the Creator God’s image-bearing steward over all creation, and because he had been given a responsible dominion over the works of his God’s hands, his humble servants would have been the trees of the garden.  Scripture seems to suggest that creation itself would have willingly yielded its bounty to its steward.  For Nebuchadnezzar, of course, his servants would have been those men and women over which he ruled.  This eating of grass, for both Nebuchadnezzar and Adam, as Adam (man) was now forced to till the ground to yield food (“eating grass” then serving as metaphor), would serve as a constant reminder that they had fallen from what had been intended for them.  Yes, if He truly holds the world in His hands, it is to be borne in mind that the Creator God had purposeful intentions for Nebuchadnezzar.   

As has been said, the respective falls came through pride and self-worship, as both Adam and the king of Babylon presumptuously reached for that which did not belong to them.  Each time they ate the grass of the field, they would be reminded of their having been driven from human society.  Adam would be forced to remember that he had willfully departed from what it meant to be fully human, which was living in a complete, trusting allegiance to his Creator, faithfully carrying out his divine purpose to be the bearer of the divine image.  He now lived in cursing and exile, fallen from glory, and now inhabiting a world cursed because of his faithlessness.  Nebuchadnezzar would be separated from fellowship with his fellow human beings, therefore separated from relationship with others that had been created in the image of the covenant God of Israel, and therefore even further separated from that God, in an awful state of exile and in full experience of the Creator God’s cursing upon himself.

After this pronouncement on the man that is so often thought of as an evil and idolatrous king, the story of Nebuchadnezzar takes what might be perceived as an unexpected turn.  The Creator God makes a promise to Nebuchadnezzar that this state of affairs in which he finds himself living a beastly existence, will go on for “seven periods of time” (4:32d).  So it was not going to be a permanent condition for Nebuchadnezzar.  As the story goes, he was informed that he was going to undergo this cursing and exile so that he would be made to “understand that the Most High is ruler over human kingdoms and gives them to whomever He wishes” (4:32e). 

There is grace and mercy for Nebuchadnezzar here.  Not only is his time of insanity going to have a defined limit, but through it, the Creator God is going to enter in so as to reveal Himself to this king.  He will do this in a way that will, for Nebuchadnezzar, give real meaning and substance and conviction to his previous declaration about that God, in which he had said, “How great are His signs!  How mighty are His wonders!  His kingdom will last forever, and His authority continues from one generation to the next” (4:3).  In these words, Nebuchadnezzar had told “all peoples, nations, and language groups that live in all the land” (4:1), that he was “delighted to tell  you about the signs and wonders that the most high God has done for me” (4:2).  Perhaps this was nothing more than lip service following that to which he had been witness in the situation with Shadrach, Meshach, Abednego, and the fourth man in the fiery furnace?  Perhaps not? 

Nebuchadnezzar's Fall (part 4)

According to the Scriptural narrative, as the first divine image-bearer, Adam had been given complete dominion over the covenant God’s good creation.  Through his actions however, as creation’s representative before its God---the creation’s king and ruler as it were---that creation had become marred.  In what amounted to bringing himself honor through self-worship, in full knowledge of his desire to be like his Creator God with whom he was said to have regular and direct fellowship (presumably that he might best know how to be the divine image bearer in and for the creation), Adam fell from the position of authority into which he had been placed. 

Due to this, Adam was told “cursed is the ground thanks to you; in painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life.  It will produce thorns and thistles for you, but you will eat the grain of the field.  By the sweat of your brow you will eat food until you return to the ground” (3:17b-19a).  So the creation itself was unable to escape the judgment that came to its representative.  How is this reflected in the Nebuchadnezzar story?  In much the same way that Adam had been driven from the garden of Eden, because of the king’s self-worship, when he was stripped of his rule and authority, the Creator God said to him, “You will be driven from human society” (Daniel 4:32a).  Adam had given up his full humanity, which is a fate that would come to Nebuchadnezzar as well. 

Yes, it must be understood that, in his fall, Adam gave up and rejected what it meant to be fully human.  Adam, having been made as the image of the Creator God for the world---designed to trust and honor and worship his Creator, lost that which the Creator God had apparently intended for humankind.  This realization makes Nebuchadnezzar’s plight of being “driven from human society” all the more fascinating. 

To this fact of being driven from human society, the God of Israel added that Nebuchadnezzar would “live with the wild animals” (4:32b).  With his dominion over creation taken from him, in which he was clearly placed by the Creator God (much like Nebuchadnezzar had been given power and a kingdom by that same God for a particular purpose and time) in a stewarding, care-taking, responsible, and God-like superiority over the beasts of the field (how would the Creator of all things treat His creation?), Adam’s expulsion from the garden now meant that he too was going to live with the wild animals. 

Why?  Why is there this parallel in the stories of Adam and Nebuchadnezzar?  It is because, quite frankly, humans become what they worship.  Adam, as Scripture seems to indicate, turned his thoughts upon himself, essentially worshiping the creature.  Nebuchadnezzar, in many respects, did the same.  With that being so, the Creator God drove both of them to join the realm over which they had previously ruled, and to live like the remainder of the created order---to live like that which they had now come to worship.  By over-reaching, both of them denied the Creator God’s purpose for them.         

Along with being driven from human society and living with wild animals, the covenant God tells Nebuchadnezzar that he “will be fed grass like oxen” (Daniel 4:32c).  As one continues to compare this king’s fall with the fall of the earth’s first ruler (Adam-the divine image-bearer that originally been given sovereignty over the creation), is it possible to find a corollary with this statement in the fall of man?  In a way, yes.  

Nebuchadnezzar's Fall (part 2)

Nebuchadnezzar is said to have engaged in sin, and implored by Daniel to “do right.”  He is further encouraged to break away from his iniquities by showing mercy to the poor.  Here, not only does Daniel provide a rather overt definition of sin and wrong in the eyes of the Creator God, but he is essentially informing the king that he has engaged in the exact same types of activities (calling it sin) that landed the covenant people of which Daniel is part (Judah/Israel) in the position of subservience to Babylon as part of their God’s judgment upon them.  

Nebuchadnezzar, and presumably Israel, were guilty of sin, and the nature of this sin is announced in Nebuchadnezzar being instructed to show mercy to the poor.  Essentially, he was going to experience judgment in much the same way as had Israel, and for much the same reason---failing to live up to covenant obligations, having acknowledged the Creator God of Israel, and presumably having come to an understanding of being raised up by that God for a specific purpose.

So what were the circumstances under which these things that Daniel had told the king were going to take place were brought about?  Well, “he happened to be walking around the battlements of the royal palace of Babylon” and “uttered these words: ‘Is not this the great Babylon that I have built from a royal residence by my own mighty strength and for my majestic honor?’” (4:29-30)  By the way the narrative is constructed, it appears that Nebuchadnezzar had forgotten the dream and Daniel’s warning (or perhaps come to disregard it), as well as His proclamation concerning the signs, might, wonders, kingdom, and authority of Daniel’s God. 

Consequently, the Creator God’s response to this statement is swift, as the author reports that “While these words were still on the king’s lips, a voice came down from heaven: ‘It is hereby announced to you, King Nebuchadnezzar, that your kingdom has been removed from you!  You will be driven from human society, and you will live with the wild animals.  You will be fed grass like oxen, and seven periods of time will pass by for you before you understand that the Most High is ruler over human kingdoms  and gives them to whomever He wishes’.” (4:31-32)  As the God of Israel apparently did not see fit to waste any time in executing this judgment (He was less lenient and patient towards this king than He had been toward His people), we learn that “in that very moment this pronouncement upon Nebuchadnezzar came true” (4:33), being fulfilled completely. 

What’s the point of going through this story?  What is to be learned from it?  Does it merely show forth the power of the Creator God and the effects of human pride?  Of course it does, but it goes beyond that.  This story fits within the scope of the larger and all-encompassing narrative of the Scriptures that serves to reveal the nature and character of the One about whom these Scriptures speak.  For example, there is a tremendous symmetry between this story of the king of Babylon and the that of the tower of Babel. 

Could one not look at the tower of Babel, from the book of Genesis, and see humanity---in the wake of the Creator God’s great proclamation of His own power that had presumably been demonstrated by means of the flood, building their tower and saying “is this not the great tower that we are building by our own strength and for our majestic honor,” doing so in defiance of the Creator God, as they dared Him to send another flood upon the earth?  Naturally, the correlations between this story of Nebuchadnezzar and the story of the Scriptures goes far beyond that.  In fact, it reaches back to the beginning---to the creation.   

Veil Of The Temple (part 5)

As part of the curse that came upon Adam, when he, as reported in the Scriptural narrative, failed in his commission to steward the perfect creation of the one that would to be known as the Lord God of Israel, to have dominion over the earth, and to bear the divine image as he was created to do, he was banished from the Garden of Eden. When Adam rebelled against his divine purpose, and in so doing allowed death and evil to enter into this world as indicated in the story, he was banished from the place where he would have his fellowship with the Creator God.  He was removed from the place of access to his Creator. 

Not only was he removed from this place of fellowship and purity and perfection and the tree of life, but the Genesis narrative informs the reader that two cherubim were stationed at the east end of the Garden.  It was insisted upon and understood that this was done in order to bar Adam’s way from returning to the place from whence he had been banished.  Those cherubim stood with whirling swords of fire, figuratively veiling mankind from the place of the Creator God’s presence.  Prior to this, the God of covenants was said to have openly walked in the midst of His creation, freely engaging in open fellowship with the creatures that had been made in His image, but this was brought to an end through Adam’s transgression and thus would happen no more.  Adam, as the representative of all of humanity, had accomplished this. 

When the covenant God took it upon Himself, based on His promise to Abraham, with whom He had entered into a covenant, to redeem a people from out of bondage of Egypt, for the purpose of separating them for Himself and for His purposes, to appoint them to be the reflectors of His glory into His world, to again steward His creation and to bear His image, to be a shining light to the nations, and to be the instruments of His service, He once again, as He had done with Adam as the divine image-bearer, chose to place Himself in the midst of His creation.  He chose to enter into fellowship.  This time, however, there would be limitations.  It was not open and it was not free.  There were boundaries.  It was both similar and dis-similar to the situation of Genesis. 

When the tabernacle was erected, with its Holy Place and its Most Holy Place, the Creator God limited Himself to appearing in the Most Holy Place.  He limited Himself to direct fellowship with Moses alone.  Furthermore, it would be decreed that only the High Priest would be able to enter into His presence, and that, only once a year, as the representative of the people of the Creator God.  Where did this entering into the presence of the Creator God take place?  It took place behind the veil.  It took place behind the veil that was decorated with angelic sentries---cherubim. 

What was the penalty for a presumptuous entrance behind the veil?  The penalty was death.  The penalty was being cut down, figuratively, by “the flame of a whirling sword.”  This was true of the tabernacle, and of Solomon’s temple, and was held to as a tradition of the second temple, which stood in Jesus’ day.  There was no entrance behind the veil.  Cherubim guarded the way.  There was to be no direct access to or fellowship with the Creator God by man.  This could be looked upon as mankind’s ongoing curse. 

In Jesus’ day, it would be reasonable to presume that when the people saw the cherubim, read about the cherubim, were verbally reminded of the cherubim, and contemplated that veil of separation, their thoughts could have quite rightly turned to Adam, to Eden, to the fall of man, to the cursing of creation (a reminder of exile), to the expulsion from Eden (another reminder of exile), and to the cherubim that were set forth as a result of that fall.  It becomes clear that the veil of the temple was so much more than something that prevented people from seeing what stood behind it.  The veil was so much more than a reminder that man had been separated from his Creator.