Baptidzo = Immerse – A Root Word Fallacy?

by Reed DePace

Is it an example of the root word fallacy to say that baptizw in Scripture always means immerse?

I’ve seen more and more Baptist friends translate baptizw with immerse, as if the two words are explicitly equivalent. Some have taken a passage from Scripture where a form of this Greek word appears and they simply insert a form of immerse.

For example: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing immersing them”…. Or “Baptism Immersion which now saves you, …. Or “I baptized immersed you with water, but he will baptize immerse you with the Holy Spirit.”

Seems to me that this is an example of the root word fallacy. What do you think?

by Reed DePace

New Edition of the Greek New Testament

The 28th edition of the Nestle Aland Greek New Testament is finally available! I have been looking forward to this for a long time now. In addition to having more manuscripts factored in to the apparatus, there are over 30 changes in the catholic epistles to the text, reflecting some of the vast work that has been done on these epistles recently. All students of the Greek New Testament should purchase this straight away!

Inspiration and Ancient Texts

(Posted by Paige)

Here is another question along the theme of speaking to curious laypeople about inspiration and ancient texts: How would you go about describing the differences between certain passages in the LXX and MT in terms of the doctrine of inspiration? Again, the complexity of the process of inspiration is certainly in view, here involving multiple Hebrew versions and the work of translators. I am wondering what we can fairly say about diversity among OT texts that is in keeping with an orthodox doctrine of inspiration?

Is it fair to say, for example, that if I am reading the Septuagint I am reading the inspired text of the OT? Or is it just to be considered a translation, with editorial changes (i.e., redactions that do not come under the umbrella of inspiration)? — But if the latter, were the NT writers not reading the inspired OT? (Not to mention us, since we read translations too!)

What of the different versions of the Hebrew Bible that apparently existed before the LXX was made, and which may account for some of the differences between LXX and MT? Must we assume or posit that any one version, Hebrew or Greek, was “more inspired” than another? Or might we use the analogy of multiple Gospels, and the unity-in-diversity that we see between scenes in the Synoptics, to make sense of the differences?

For those of you with some knowledge in this area, how often and to what degree do the LXX and MT vary? I am entering into these questions via one particular portal, the book of Hebrews, so I do not yet have a sense of the big textual picture.

I would love recommended resources on this subject, too, if you have any to suggest. My “curious laypeople” will probably not want to venture much past their study Bible notes, but I can be a bridge to them for some of these more complicated ideas.

Thanks!

An Argument Against the Apocryphal Books Being Canonical

I have wondered about the timing of the writing of the Apocryphal books for a while now. They were written before the New Testament church came into existence. The New Testament church were not the people of God at the time the Apocryphal books were being written. The people of God at the time of the writing of the Apocryphal books were the Jews. Does that not mean that the New Testament church cannot be God’s instrument by which the canonical status of the Apocryphal books is decided? Does that not mean that the Jews must be God’s instrument by which their status is decided? The Jews have always rejected those books. So also did many of the church fathers, most notably Jerome, the translator of the Vulgate! Many of them agreed with the Jews that the Apocryphal books were not canonical. We get off on the wrong foot from the beginning, however, if we say that the church has the authority to decide on the Apocryphal books. The New Testament church cannot decide on the canonicity of books written before the New Testament church even existed. The people of God in existence at the time of the writing of a book receives or rejects the canonical status of a book.

Canonical History Question

(Posted by Paige)

Investigating some “paratext” issues prior to teaching this weekend — perhaps some of my historically-minded brethren can save me some steps and answer this question:

How old is the order of New Testament books that we have in our (Protestant) Bibles?

Echoes of the Exodus

(Posted by Paige)

All right, Bible scholars, let me employ you in doing some of my homework for me. Can you think of any mentions of or allusions to the Exodus event in the NT, besides Hebrews 10:1-2? Unless I am completely blanking on something obvious, I think that they must be more indirect than direct. I can easily think of echoes of the Passover or the wilderness wanderings, but echoes of the Exodus are harder to hear. Which is intriguing, given the prevalence of such echoes in an inner-Testamental way, as the prophets rehearse the most significant acts of God in Israel’s history.

A related historical question is whether theological parallels that we see between Jesus’ redemptive work and the Exodus developed from NT teaching or from reading the OT with NT spectacles.

Thanks!

Tempted By the Tiber?

All of the hoopla surrounding Stellman has reminded me of the importance of this question: how do we build our theology? And if we are tempted by the Tiber, how do we go about resolving the questions that arise?

I think that the Bayly brothers have some excellent advice. I would modify it a bit by saying that anyone tempted by the Tiber should concentrate on two issues: justification and Scripture.

On either of these issues, a person should scour the Reformed tradition to see if there are good answers to their specific questions. Do not neglect the older authors, either. On justification, one should read (at least!) the following three books: Owen, Buchanan, and Fesko. It wouldn’t hurt either to do some digging in the OPC study committee report to learn why union with Christ does not make imputation redundant, but rather ensures that imputation is not a legal fiction. These resources would be a bare minimum of what a person should read.

On Scripture, I cannot even stress the importance of Whitaker strongly enough. If you read no other book on Scripture, read Whitaker. This is BY FAR the best book ever written on Scripture from the Protestant perspective. And there are plenty of other great books out there. I would also recommend volume 2 of Muller’s Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics (which is out of print, so you’ll have to find it on Bookfinder or ABEBooks). Pay particular attention to the perspecuity of Scripture, as this is the primary sticking point between Rome and Geneva.

One final word to young theologians: build your theology from the older masters. The reason for this is two-fold: 1. Not only are their works tried and true, having been analyzed more often than modern works, but also, 2. The fountain of the Reformed faith is less likely to be quirky than later theologians. So build your theology on Calvin, Turretin, a’Brakel, and Bavinck. This is not to say that modern theologians like Horton and Kelly should not be read. They should be. However, those guys would be the first to admit that you should read the older theologians first. This will give you a stronger and more centered root to your theology.

On Reading the Begats

Most of us have probably experienced the phenomenon: reading those portions of Scripture heavy on genealogy, resulting in the yawn or the rapid skimming. It seems like a waste of time, since these people have nothing to do with us, and lived thousands of years before us. Not so fast. Slow down and take a deep breath.

First point: the genealogies ensure the covenant succession of God’s people. I remember reading a story of a missionary who was sharing the Gospel with some tribe somewhere, and was getting nowhere. He stated the Gospel in the clearest possible terms, but the tribe simply wasn’t getting it, even after he learned the language well. Finally, he simply started reading to them different parts of the Bible. When he got to the genealogies, all of a sudden, there were mass conversions to Christianity. The missionary, stunned, asked the tribal leaders why it was the genealogies that had led to these conversions. The leader responded that they had genealogies going back only so far. They did not know the ultimate origins, and there were many gaps in their genealogies. But now that those gaps had been filled, they knew that the Bible was truth, and that the Gospel was true. This tribe was part of the covenant succession of God’s people now, and that factor was huge in their conversion to Christ. Never discount the power of God’s Word, even those parts that WE do not find particularly compelling!

Second point (and this goes right along with the first point): ALL Scripture is inspired by God and is useful. The problem is not with the text, but with our attitude towards it. If we take a minimalist approach to the genealogies, then we won’t be expecting to receive any edification whatsoever from it. If, however, we read prayerfully, then the Holy Spirit will guide us into the truth that that Scripture has for us.

Third point: we often do not read genealogies properly. When you read a genealogy that has names associated with particular stories, you are meant to recall the entire story. Genealogies are the Bible’s way of recapping what has come before. What is particularly effective about this is the organic connection of God’s people by covenantal generation. In fact, the story of those people IS our story!

Fourth point: whenever you read a person’s name in the Bible, never forget that your name is also written down in the Lamb’s Book of Life, if you trust in Christ Jesus. Suppose (hypothetically) you were reading the Bible one day, and saw your own name there, referring to you, and not to your namesake. Would that change your attitude towards that history? If you remember that your name is written down, everything changes. You will pay attention. You will see the connections of history, and the organic connection that the earlier generations have to us. You ARE reading your own genealogy: the genealogy of faith.

Sailhamer’s Meaning of the Pentateuch, Take Ten

(Posted by Paige) (Edit: I just noticed this one is TEN, not ELEVEN. Not that anybody really cares. :)

Still plugging away at this tome – only three chapters to go after this one!

The first comment below provides a brief summary of each chapter, and links to my previous reviews. Links to biblical references within this post fetch up the ESV.

Chapter 9: Is There a “Biblical Jesus” of the Pentateuch?

As suggested by this chapter’s title, Sailhamer’s interest here is in identifying and tracing whatever message the Pentateuch may contain about a Coming One, known to us via the NT as the historical Jesus, but anticipated since the beginning of the story as the Savior of Israel and the world. (Sailhamer notes that by calling this figure the “biblical Jesus” he means to be “transparently anachronistic ,” not credulous about the OT writers’ prior knowledge of a specific man by this name.) In keeping with the overall thrust of the book, this chapter investigates in some detail how the deliberate composition of the Pentateuch contributes to a theological message of expectation that points to Jesus. Sailhamer offers both innertextual (within the Pentateuch) and intertextual (between other biblical books and the Pentateuch) studies to support his conclusion that Moses intended his audience to anticipate a singular “seed” of Abraham who would also be a king from the tribe of Judah.

To start off, Sailhamer reviews his theories about the “making” of the Pentateuch, reminding us of his conviction that an individual author used his own compositions as well as other sources, connecting these texts in a meaningful way. In particular, the poems that occur at the “compositional seams” between major blocks of narrative act both as literary glue and as clues to the theological intent of the Pentateuch. “The next aspect of the making of the Pentateuch,” he writes, “involved weaving into these narratives a series of theological motifs or themes (theologomena)” (466). Ultimately, the echoes of these themes by way of “learned quotations” both within the Pentateuch and in the writings of later psalmists and prophets reinforce the original theological intentions of the author.

Sailhamer then offers a series of detailed studies of texts where such “learned quotations” and cross-references occur, beginning with innertextual connections within the Pentateuch itself (see pp.464-481 for details). He identifies a link between Gen. 12:3, Gen. 27:29, and Gen. 49:8-10 that to him suggests a deliberate effort to associate Abraham, the blessing of the nations, and the promised “seed” with the royal line of Judah. Additional examples of “learned quotations” from Num. 24:5-9 and Deut. 33:4-7 reinforce these connections. Sailhamer explains,

It seems clear that these learned quotations of the promise narratives within the Pentateuch’s poems are intentional. Their intent is to identify the “seed” promised to Abraham (Gen. 12) with the “scepter from the tribe of Judah” (Gen. 49) and Balaam’s victorious “king” (Num. 24). The “king” in each of these poems is thus linked directly to the promise of the “seed” of Abraham. (476)

Emphasized in all of this discussion is Sailhamer’s conviction that the author of the Pentateuch means his audience to understand Abraham’s promised “seed” to be a singular rather than a collective figure, as Paul asserts in Gal. 3:16. “To be sure,” he concedes, “at numerous points in the promise narratives, the identity of the ‘seed’ of Abraham is clearly understood collectively. But, as true as that observation is, it is not the whole story” (478). In fact, Sailhamer insists, careful reading of the Pentateuch by the later biblical writers resulted in a reinforcement of a singular interpretation of the “seed,” as evidenced by learned quotations throughout the rest of the Tanakh. Hannah’s prayer for a future king (in 1 Sam. 2; see especially v.10) is cited as a demonstration that “later readers of the Pentateuch were aware of the prophetic meaning of these early poems in the Pentateuch” (471). Sailhamer also examines Jeremiah 4:2 – “The nations in him will be blessed” – in its immediate and canonical context (see pp.481-499); Psalm 72 (which quotes the same text; see pp.499-510); and the intriguing singular/plural pronoun puzzle of Num. 23:22 and Num. 24:8 (see pp.518-521). Perhaps my favorite of his supporting arguments concerns Matthew’s use of Hosea 11:1, which, Sailhamer insists, was applied metaphorically by the Evangelist precisely because Hosea had already assigned a metaphorical meaning to the historical exodus event, in light of a coming king (see pp.510-518).

Sailhamer concludes this chapter with a respectful appreciation of John Calvin’s understanding of the singular “seed” promised to Abraham, and he leaves us with his studied opinion that even the earliest books of Scripture contain God’s call to faith in the singular Coming One. He writes,

Abraham’s faith (Gen. 15:6) was grounded in the work of an individual (singular) descendant (“seed” [Gen. 22:18]) of Abraham, through whom God’s primeval blessing (Gen. 1:28) and eternal life (Gen. 3:22) would be restored to all humanity (Gen. 49:10). In the patriarchal narratives and poetry, religion of the patriarchs is cast as essentially a pre-Christian version of NT faith – a faith in an “individual seed” of Abraham who is identified as a coming king from the house of Judah who was the mediator of the Abrahamic covenant. This was the king from Judah who is the focus of the Pentateuch’s poetry and narrative symbolism. (533f.)

If you read just one chapter of this large work, I’d suggest you read this one, both for a taste of Sailhamer’s exceptional “compositional” approach and for the detailed innertextual and intertextual studies he offers to support his convictions.

Two Verses, Twelve Questions

(Posted by Paige)

Here’s a whimsical Bible puzzle for you to bat around. These two verses have recently caught my attention and raised a handful of questions in my mind:

The apostles said to the Lord, “Increase our faith!”
And the Lord said, “If you had faith like a grain of mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, ‘Be uprooted and planted in the sea,’ and it would obey you.” (Luke 17:5-6)

Here are twelve of my many questions. Tackle any that interest you, too!

1. What did the disciples assume about faith?

2. Were they correct in their assumption?

3. What did they assume about Jesus?

4. What did they expect Jesus to accomplish for them?

5. Is Jesus’ response intended as an affirmation or a correction of their request?

6. What does Jesus imply about faith?

7. Why a mulberry tree? Is there any symbolism here?

8. Is Jesus describing something that might literally happen, or is he using poetic hyperbole?

9. If hyperbole, what’s his point?

10. Is this the same message that Jesus intends in Matt. 17:20 (“…if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.”)

11. Why is this exchange recorded here in Luke (i.e., in this particular location in the Gospel)? Are the apostles reacting to something, or has Luke collected similar material together?

12. How is this exchange related to what has come before and what will follow?

Bonus question: What would you emphasize if preaching from this passage?

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