Deb Elkink

Welcome to my ROLLED SCROLL study, where I follow cultural and literary images found in the Bible in an attempt to unearth God's meaning in His pattern of usage.

Published March 18, 2013

FRIEND

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art, like the universe itself (for God did not need to create). It has no survival value; rather, it is one of those things which give value to survival. —C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

In Lewis’s enduring text on the natural and supernatural loves, he explores the place of interpersonal, flesh-and-blood, human friendship that is a noble theme to consider:

Two are better than one because they have a good return for their labor. For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up! (Eccl. 4:9-10 NASB)

Several words in the original Bible languages are translated as “friend” and represent a spectrum from relative facelessness to intimacy, depending on context. A friend might be simply a fellow mortal or neighbour, a colleague, perhaps a kinsman, or even someone dear, highly favoured, and loved within a covenant of peace, communion, and fellowship.

The motif becomes complex when considering the whole scope of relationships—including, in New Testament words, both philia (friendship of a primarily reciprocal nature, the idea of loving as well as being loved) and agape (love not arising from the impulse of feelings and not primarily relational, but with resulting side benefits; this is the all-surmounting, holy love essential to God’s being).

We begin our study by looking at horizontal, human friendships.

The traits of a friend include fidelity, confidentiality, and a sense of loyalty that overlooks offense (Prov. 11:13; 1 Chron. 12:17; Prov. 17:9). There’s no room for treachery in friendship; instead, good friends stick together even in the bad times (Prov. 27:10; Prov. 18:24; Prov. 17:17). They are emotionally invested; for example, Jonathan and David had a strong bond that outlived death to be expressed to the next generation (1 Sam. 20:11-17; 2 Sam. 9:6-7):

The soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. (1 Sam. 18:1)

Friends care for one another and enjoy giving gifts in meeting needs (1 Sam. 18:4; Acts 27:3). Purity of heart and words of graciousness will win even a king’s devotion (Prov. 22:11). Consider Ruth’s readiness to sacrifice, as she declared solidarity with her mother-in-law, Naomi, in their exile:

“Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God.” (Ruth 1:16)

Friends talk face-to-face and rejoice in each other’s successes—lost money found, a wedding in the community (3 John 1:13-15; Luke 15:8-9; John 2:1-2). They are deeply familiar with one another, and spend time and “take sweet counsel” together (Ps. 55:13-14; Prov. 27:9)—although not at the expense of honesty, for,

Better is open rebuke than hidden love. Faithful are the wounds of a friend . . . Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another. (Prov. 27:5-6, 17)

We often read of Bible companions sharing meals as David feasted with his mighty men, and physically embracing as Esau hugged Jacob (1 Chron. 12:38-40; Gen. 33:4). But not all who share a table are trustworthy, not all who embrace truly love (Ps. 41:9; Jer. 41:1-2; Deut. 28:54). Discernment in choosing companions is of paramount importance:

A dishonest man spreads strife, and a whisperer separates close friends . . . Make no friendship with a man given to anger, nor go with a wrathful man, lest you learn his ways and entangle yourself in a snare. (Prov. 16:28; Prov. 22:24)

Indeed, bad company ruins good morals; Amnon followed the plot of his crafty friend Jonadab and raped his own sister Tamar (1 Cor. 15:33; Deut. 13:6-8; 2 Sam. 13:3-14). Sometimes one’s enemies band together in alliance against the godly, like Job’s three fair-weather friends, or Pilate and Herod on the day of the Crucifixion (Job 2:11; 16:20; 19:19; Luke 23:12).

The Bible sets the world’s definition of friendship in juxtaposition against God’s:

It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in humans . . . Cursed is the one who trusts in man, who draws strength from mere flesh, and whose heart turns away from the Lord . . . Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him. (Ps. 118:8; Jer. 17:5, 7 NIV)

Indeed, God’s friendship (agape) is on a different plane altogether than the world’s friendship (James 4:4; John 15:19). When Adam and Eve lost their relationship with God, death entered to become our final enemy (Gen. 3:8; 1 Cor. 15:26). Ever since our separation from God in the Garden, He has been calling us back into relationship with Him (Isa. 45:22; Matt. 11:28). Consider His overtures of friendship when, early on, He interrupted the cycle of death by taking Cain’s son Enoch (who “walked” or fellowshipped with Him) alive to Heaven, as He did again later with Elijah (Gen. 5:22-24; 2 Kings 2:11). Consider His agape love when He chose Israel and called Abraham His friend (philos) because of his faith, or when He spoke intimately with Moses—forging covenants of great friendship with His people (Isa. 41:8; James 2:23; Exod. 33:11), for,

The friendship of the Lord is for those who fear Him, and He makes known to him His covenant. (Ps. 25:14)

God’s ultimate act of friendship was sending His gift of Jesus Christ to the world as a unique friend we could relate to in a physical, visceral sense—deity in flesh, God we could touch (Heb. 1:1-2; Phil. 2:6-8; 1 John 1:1).

For God so loved [agapao] the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16)

With the coming of Jesus, friendship took on a whole new significance. Of course, He had “friends” in the sense of human companions (Matt. 11:19; John 15:14-15). He wept together with Mary in philia-type friendship over Lazarus’ death, and He considered His disciples to be dear (philos) friends (John 11:32-36; Luke 12:4). At the Last Supper, He even addressed Judas as friend, but note that He used a different word here; hetaire would be better translated as “friendly opportunist” or “imposter,” for Jesus knew the dark heart of his betrayer (Matt. 26:48-50; John 2:23-25).

In a further differentiation of Jesus’ human relationships, John the Apostle was known as the disciple He loved (agapao) (John 13:23; 19:26). It is only on the basis of God’s friendship with us in Christ that we can know agape, for Jesus came to reconcile us to Himself, to change our status of enmity and bring us close to God again (Rom. 5:10; Col. 1:19-20; Eph. 2:12-13).

Greater love [agape] has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends [philos]. (John 15:13)

This in turn allows us to truly love others as siblings within the Body of Christ (Heb. 13:1). We now greet each other with agape, break bread together, season our speech with the bite of salt, and speak the truth in love—not just in word but also in deed (1 Pet. 5:14; Acts 2:46; Col. 4:6; Eph. 4:15; 1 John 3:18). We are no longer enemies of one another but, like Jesus, become kind, compassionate, and forgiving—as God has forgiven our enmity towards Him (Titus 3:3-7; Eph. 4:32; Matt. 5:43-44). We then offer the Good News of Christ’s friendship to the world, who will know us by our love—seeing us as united as partners, affectionate, sympathetic, comforting, and selfless (Matt. 28:19; John 13:35; Phil. 1:3-5; Phil. 2:1-5).

This is true friendship, indeed!

To comment on this reading, or to subscribe or unsubscribe to a monthly email reminder of new postings, please write me: deb@rolledscroll.com.

These short literary articles tied to the Bible explore what God might have been saying in His pattern of usage for each symbol. English rendition of the original Hebrew, Aramaic, or Greek varies with translations (e.g., “scroll” is sometimes interchangeable with “book”); however, the quality and underlying meaning of the selected emblem remain consistent across versions. Sketches are by Lorenda Harder. I recommend the website of Dr. Grant C. Richison for thorough expository Bible study: www.versebyversecommentary.com.

Published March 13, 2013

CUP

All friends shall taste the wages of their virtue, and all foes the cup of their deservings. – Shakespeare, King Lear, 5.3

William Shakespeare wrote the tragedy King Lear sometime between 1603 and 1606, just as the Church of England was translating the King James Bible (published 1611) to replace earlier versions. The declaration above, by the fictitious Duke of Albany, is itself almost biblical, reminding us of that famous verse concerning the wages of sin (Rom. 6:23). Literary theorists have established the influence of the Bible upon Shakespeare’s work, and with this fictive quote we can see as well how the Bard employed the motif of the cup previously established in Scripture.

The cup (also translated from Hebrew as bowl, goblet, basin, or chalice) makes its first appearance in the full-orbed story of Joseph, a young man sold into Egyptian slavery by his brothers. While in prison, Joseph correctly interpreted the dream of his cellmate, the disgraced royal cupbearer, who fulfilled the dream-prophecy by once again taking up his duties; two years later Joseph himself was released by Pharaoh (Gen. 40:1-4, Gen. 40: 21-23; Gen. 41:14). Joseph rose in stature as a powerful government official overseeing Egypt’s crop production and distribution in a time of widespread famine. When his family arrived from neighbouring Canaan pleading for aid, he ensured their return to Egypt by planting his own silver cup in their belongings (Gen. 44:1-17).

A cup design was integrated into sacred articles used for worship in the Tabernacle and in Solomon’s Temple, including the golden lampstand and the huge basin holding thousands of gallons of water for use in the courtyard (Exod. 37:17-20; 1 Kings 7:48-50; 2 Chron. 4:4-5). King Solomon’s world-renowned wisdom and wealth left the visiting Queen of Sheba breathless as she noted the excellence even of his cupbearers (2 Chron. 9:1-4). This esteemed position of “poison taster” for the king next comes up in the account of Nehemiah: Solomon (who began his reign so well) fell into pagan worship, which eventually resulted in God’s judgment of Israel and the seventy-year Babylonian captivity of the Jews. During this oppression, the slave Nehemiah (later the rebuilder of Jerusalem’s walls) served as the personal cupbearer of the king of Persia (Neh. 1:11). We can see an interesting progression of the cup’s use—from its sanctity as a vessel of worship to its chastisement as an instrument of humiliation.

The Psalmist further carried this juxtaposition between the cup of joy and the cup of judgment:

The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot . . . You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows . . . Let [God] rain coals on the wicked; fire and sulfur and a scorching wind shall be the portion of their cup . . . but it is God who executes judgment, putting down one and lifting up another. For in the hand of the Lord there is a cup with foaming wine, well mixed, and he pours out from it, and all the wicked of the earth shall drain it down to the dregs. (Ps. 16:5; Ps. 23:5; Ps. 11:6; Ps. 75:7-8 ESV)

The remaining Old Testament references to the cup all speak of God’s judgment regarding Israel’s cycle of idolatry and repentance, the nation forced to drink God’s “cup of wrath and staggering” or delivered from drinking it by His grace (Isa. 65:11; Isa. 51:17-22). God used the metaphor of the cup through His prophet Jeremiah as an object lesson: His divine punishment was meted out to His people through military conquests by His enemy, who came to be typified as “Babylon”—a golden cup of drunken madness in the Lord’s hand from which the whole earth would someday be forced to drink (Jer. 25:15-17; Jer. 25:28; Jer. 51:7). After the siege of Jerusalem (588-586 B.C.), the author of Lamentations mourned the city’s fate and called for vindication against her enemy (Babylon)—God’s enemy, who will one day drink of the bitter cup of His judgment (Lam. 4:21). Ezekiel, Habakkuk, and Zechariah all spoke of the horror, shame, and desolation of this judgment (Ezek. 23:31-33; Hab. 2:16; Zech. 12:2). Their language is echoed again in Revelation, a future time in which the “wine of God’s wrath” will be “poured into the cup of His anger” against Babylon—that is, against all false religion in the world (Rev. 14:10; Rev. 16:19; Rev. 17:4; Rev. 18:6).

But judgment is mitigated by grace, and in the New Testament Jesus used the image of the cup to teach about His mercy and substitutionary suffering on our behalf. He spoke of the reward due those who give just a cup of cold water to His children—that is, to the lowliest of His disciples (Matt. 10:42; Mark 9:41). He described the religious leaders of the day as hypocrites, cups clean on the outside but filthy within (Matt. 23:25-26). When James and John wanted spiritual favours in His kingdom, Jesus reminded them of the cup of suffering and death they would face, but only after He Himself faced a much greater, unique passion—the cup of God’s wrath He voluntarily drank on our behalf (Matt. 20:22-23; Matt. 26:39; John 18:11).

But before Jesus died, at the celebration of the Last Supper He gave deeper meaning to the cup by identifying it with the New Covenant, salvation through His blood:

And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he said, “Take this, and divide it among yourselves. For I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.” And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood” (Luke 22:17-20).

The Passover celebration being held at that same moment in homes throughout Jerusalem featured a meal full of symbolism, each element of food and drink representing a different aspect of God’s salvation of His people. Four cups of wine would be passed among family members at different junctures in the meal to commemorate God’s promises—the first cup of sanctification (He would deliver Israel from the burdens of Egypt), the second cup of plagues (deliverance from bondage), the third cup of redemption (by God’s outstretched arm), and the fourth cup of consummation (God’s promise to take a people for Himself; Exod. 6:6-7). With His disciples in the upper room, Jesus (according to some commentators) drank the third cup of redemption, followed by His promise that He would not drink again until He drank with them (and us!) in Heaven, likely referring to the fourth cup of consummation still awaiting fulfillment.

Meanwhile, as we await the return of the One who holds the eternal cup of salvation, we believers drink from the cup of blessing rather than of demons—we serve only one Master (1 Cor. 10:16; 1 Cor. 10:21). We celebrate our own “Passover”—the memory of Christ’s death and resurrection and future return—with the chalice of Communion (1 Cor. 11:25-28).

The biblical motif of the cup runs through Scripture and symbolizes both judgment and grace, both punishment and forgiveness. Shakespeare’s declaration is mitigated for us; in fact, we do not sip from the “cup of our deservings” but rather from the grace-filled cup of Christ’s propitiation.

Published January 22, 2013

SALT

A year ago I toured the Roman ruins beneath the city of Barcelona, with its 4,000 square metres of tumbledown stone walls delineating homes and businesses—the laundry, the winery, the garum factory. Ancient Romans loved their garum, a sauce made by fermenting fish guts in brine. Salt itself was a crucial trade item to the Romans, and early soldiers were given a ration known as salarium argentum, the Latin basis of the English word “salary.”

But of course the history and literature of salt goes back further than two millennia. In Bible lands, salt was connected with hospitality; the ancient practice of offering salt and bread to a guest was emblematic of a promise of loyalty and protection, and to “eat the salt of the palace” meant one was in the service of the king (Ezra 4:14). Salt was one of the first international commodities, with trade routes connecting Africa, Asia, the Middle East, and Europe. The Bible early on records military maneuvers and political boundaries in reference to the Salt Sea (known to us as the Dead Sea; Gen. 14:3; Num. 34:3; Deut. 3:17). Edible salt was likely mined from the Mediterranean Sea.

The first memorable Bible story concerns Lot’s wife who, fleeing the sulphur-and-fire rainstorm of judgment from Heaven on Sodom and Gomorrah, gazed back longingly upon her home and became a “pillar of salt” as a monument to her unwillingness in following God (Gen. 19:24-26; Luke 17:28-30; Luke 17:32-33). Soon salt was associated symbolically with preservation, purification, and seasoning.

Preservation: Salt was used in Tabernacle worship; it was added to incense to produce white smoke and enhance fragrance, and added to grain offerings to signify the holy durability of the covenantal relationship between God and His people (Exod. 30:35; Lev. 2:13; Num. 18:19; 2 Chron. 13:5; Ezra 6:9; Ezek. 43:24). The Israelites ate salted locusts preserved in bottles—wings, feet, and intestines removed (Lev. 11:22; Matt. 3:4).

Purification or separation: God sometimes “cleansed” idolatrous nations by sowing them in salt so that farmland was left unproductive (Deut. 29:23; Judg. 9:45; Ps. 107:34; Zeph. 2:9). But in Jericho, where the well had turned sour and brackish water was killing crops, the prophet Elisha likened the ecological disaster to the spiritual pollution of Baal worship; he threw salt into the bad well to make it sweet, a miracle teaching that the Lord—not the god of fertility—could permanently heal their barrenness (2 Kings 2:19-22). The one whose heart turns away from God will wither like a malnourished plant:

He is like a shrub in the desert,  and shall not see any good come.  He shall dwell in the parched places of the wilderness,  in an uninhabited salt land (Jer. 17:6 ESV).

On the contrary, God provides for those who worship Him with pure hearts. Ezekiel compared Jerusalem to a cast-off newborn, an unwanted child whom no one pitied enough to wash and rub with salt and wrap in blankets until God noticed her kicking in her blood and rescued her for Himself (Ezek. 16:4-7). In this same Jerusalem during the Millennium, a river of life-giving water will flow from the Temple into the Dead (Salt) Sea, making it fresh so that its trees will produce fruit for food and leaves for healing (Ezek. 47:11-12; Rev. 22:1-3).

Seasoning: Salt in the New Testament refers first of all to taste: Jesus called believers the “salt of the earth” and admonished us not to lose our tangy witness, our distinctiveness from the world (Matt. 5:13; Mark 9:50; Luke 14:34). Jesus might have been alluding to a popular belief of the time that salt could lose its virtue, probably arising from the use of Dead Sea mixed-mineral deposits from which sodium chloride would dissolve away to leave just a tasteless or bitter reside. Pure salt is good and has value as a condiment and preservative as long as it retains its essential properties, Paul wrote, and so our speech is always to be “seasoned with salt”—pure and full of truth (Col. 4:6). In a reverse application of this metaphor, James warned that one’s heart shows its true source by the quality of one’s works:

Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and salt water? Can a fig tree, my brothers, bear olives, or a grapevine produce figs? Neither can a salt pond yield fresh water (James 3:11-12 ESV).

The nature of salt is expressed in both negative and positive imagery throughout Scripture: salt is polluting as well as preserving, purifying, and seasoning.

As a sort of postscript, I note that sweat—the salt of the body—is mentioned only three times in the Bible, a triad making a piquant point of its own regarding the concept of “work”:

In the Garden after the Fall, the Creator cursed the ground with thorns and thistles, condemning humans to struggle and sweat for daily bread until we return to the salty dust from which we were made (Gen. 3:19).
Then, in His rules of sanctification for Levitical priests as they served in the sanctuary, God showed His holiness by prescribing linen undergarments that were not to bind in such a way as to cause the defilement of human perspiration (Ezek. 44:15; Ezek. 44:18-19).
Finally, in the cleansing and sanctifying action of Christ’s suffering, His sweat fell to the ground like great drops of blood (Luke 22:44).

God’s Word uses even this homely image of sweat to show how sin and the insufficiency of our own efforts are overcome through the creative, saving work of Jesus Christ, our great High Priest.

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Published December 28, 2012

LIGHT

We believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of all things visible and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten of the Father, Light of Light, very God of very God . . .

Thus begins the Nicene Creed, a historical statement of Christian orthodoxy hammered out a mere three hundred years after Jesus walked the earth. Its motif of light runs through Scripture, beginning with the first words of the Creation story, where out of dark chaos God brought forth light:

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light . . . (Gen. 1:1-3 ESV)

But the concept of God’s creating light is far removed from His being light. Let’s watch the Bible progressively unfold the metaphor of light in a sampling of its over two hundred appearances.

Physical light is mentioned in conjunction with God’s leading Israel out of bondage and through the desert by means of a plague and a pillar (Exod. 10:21-23; 13:21). Yahweh’s gloriously shining shekinah descended upon Mount Sinai, making Moses’ face glow before filling the Tabernacle (Exod. 24:15-18; 34:29; 40:34-38; 2 Chron. 5:13-14). Many Bible stories occurred at sunrise: Consider Abraham’s departure to sacrifice Isaac, Joshua’s march around Jericho as the walls fell, and Elisha’s miraculous protection by angelic chariots of fire (Gen. 22:3; Josh. 6:15-16ff; 2 Kings 6:15-17).

The symbolism of light develops through poetry. Job contrasted the darkness of death and wickedness with the light of God’s favor (Job 10:21-22; 18:5-6; 24:13-17; 29:2-3). The Psalmist referred to God’s joy-giving presence and His Word as light that guides into truth and brings blessing as He searches us out in our dark lostness (Ps. 4:6; 97:11; 19:8; 43:3; 139:11-12).

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? (Ps. 27:1 ESV)

The Prophets described God as everlasting light, bringer of prosperity (Isa. 60:19-20; Hab. 3:4; Zech. 14:7; Dan. 2:22; Isa. 58:8-10). They said His end-times judgment would produce cosmic cataclysm—with stars, constellations, the sun, and the moon ceasing to shed light, and all again becoming “formless and empty” in a sort of undoing of Creation (Isa. 13:10; Jer. 4:23; see as well Matt. 24:29). But a poignant prophecy from Isaiah about the coming Messiah rang with hope, written seven hundred years before the Nativity and repeated in Matthew (Matt. 4:16) as fulfilled in Christ:

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,  on them has light shone. (Isa. 9:2 ESV)

Jesus’ angelic birth announcement was surrounded by light, and a star lit the way of the Magi (Luke 2:9-10; Matt. 2:9-10). The book of John radiates Christ’s light, which banishes sin’s darkness by exposing truth (John 3:19-21; 12:46).

In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:4-5 ESV)

“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (John 8:12 ESV)

Jesus caused the blind to see both physically and spiritually (Matt. 6:22-23; 9:27-30). He taught His followers to likewise bring His truth to the world:

You are the light of the world . . . Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. (Matt. 5:14-16 ESV)

His resurrection from the dead at daybreak on the third day, declared by an angel whose appearance was like lightning, proved Him to be the light He claimed to be (Matt. 28:1-3).

In the early Church, Peter was rescued from prison by an angel who shone a light into his cell, and Paul’s dramatic conversion as well centered around a blinding “light from heaven” (Acts 12:5-7; 26:12-18). The Epistles warn us not to miss the light—we must wake up and cast off the works of darkness (Rom. 2:17-22; 13:11-13). Satan and his minions are disguised in light as servants of righteousness, Paul taught, but we have been delivered from that domain and now “share in the inheritance of the saints in light” (2 Cor. 11:14-15; Col. 1:12-13). The God who long ago said, “Let there be light!” has shone light into our darkness through Jesus, calling us to “walk as children of light” (2 Cor. 4:6; Eph. 5:8-9; 1 Thess. 5:5).

God will one day disclose the purposes of our hearts, exposing what is now hidden in darkness, for He is the Unchangeable One who “dwells in unapproachable light” (1 Cor. 4:5; James 1:17; 1 Tim. 6:16). As we walk in His light today, we fellowship in love with one another (1 John 1:7; 2:9-10).

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light . . . that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life . . . (I Pet. 2:9; Phil. 2:15-16 ESV)

Someday the New Jerusalem will shine with God’s glory, “its radiance like a most rare jewel,” so that the sun and moon will no longer be needed; the Lord God and the Lamb will illuminate eternity (Rev. 21:10-11; 22:3-5).

May Jesus Christ—the “Light of Light” and “very God of very God”—illumine our hearts and minds this Yuletide and New Year.

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Published November 26, 2012

Welcome to my ROLLED SCROLL study, where I follow cultural and literary images found in the Bible in an attempt to unearth God’s meaning in His pattern of usage.

LAMP

And then she saw that there was a light ahead of her; not a few inches away where the back of the wardrobe ought to have been, but a long way off . . . In about ten minutes she reached it and found it was a lamp-post. — C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Anyone caught under the spell of Lewis’s fiction knows that the lamppost marks the beginning of the magical kingdom of Narnia, where it was “always winter and never Christmas” until Aslan saved his kingdom from the curse of the White Witch. In profound Christian allegory, Lewis invested his motif of the lamp with some of the great meaning previously developed in biblical literature.

The household lamp of ancient domestic life was a clay dish full of olive oil with a flax wick; we see one in Elisha’s bedroom and another kept lit by the godly homemaker of Proverbs (2 Kings 4:9-11; Prov. 31:18). Alternatively the lamp might be a torch fueled by oil—but never a candle feeding on itself to provide light, for “oil” in Bible parlance denotes the Holy Spirit, as in the parable of the ten virgins (Matt. 25:1-12). In fact, most scriptural references to the lamp pertain to its religious or symbolic use and are associated with the presence of God, worship and guidance, the life of the soul, witness or prophetic proclamation, and illumination by the written Word.

The lampstand, with seven flames signifying God’s holy perfection, appears almost a hundred times in Exodus alone. Its light perpetually shone in the Tabernacle and subsequent Temple; the hammered gold menorah with its stems, leaves, and blossoms resembled the Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden (Exod. 25:31-37; Lev. 24:1-4). The lamp connotes God’s presence not only in the Sanctuary (1 Sam. 3:3) but also within the hearts of His people:

For you are my lamp, O Lord, and my God lightens my darkness . . . For it is you who light my lamp. (2 Sam. 22:29; Ps. 18:28 ESV)

Even during the reign of wicked rulers, God remembered His covenant and, unwilling to destroy the lineage of the coming Savior, He kept the lamp of David’s line burning (2 Chron. 21:7; Ps. 132:17). A lamp shows what’s in the darkness, and so the Lord searches our “innermost parts” (Prov. 20:27; Ps. 139:11-13; Ps. 139:23-24). Haughty eyes and proud heart are the lamp of the wicked, but blessing shines above those walking in the light of God’s ways (Prov. 21:4; Job 21:17; Job 29:1-6).

God’s commandments, too, are pictured as a lamp (Prov. 6:23). The Psalmist, ridiculed for his faith, strengthened himself by meditating on the Scriptures, and so delighted in them that he wrote a 176-verse acrostic poem to celebrate God’s body of teaching able to direct one’s life:

How blessed are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the Lord . . . I have restrained my feet from every evil way, that I may keep Your word . . . Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. (Ps. 119: 1,101,105 ESV)

God used the image through the Prophets to warn Israel of her coming captivity, when she would be left “lampless” and far from home; soon thereafter Jerusalem fell to Babylon and the Temple was ransacked of holy vessels, including lampstand (Jer. 25:10; Jer. 52:18-19). It was at that time God searched Jerusalem with lamps and punished her stagnancy of spirit (Zeph. 1:12). When the golden vessels of Nebuchadnezzar’s pillage were desecrated, God judged the sacrilege through supernatural handwriting on the wall, read in the light of the royal lampstand: “Your kingdom will end” (Dan. 5:1-31). Zechariah’s apocalyptic vision pertaining to Israel’s future included seven small lamps fed continually with oil from two olive trees portraying two Spirit-filled leaders, signifying Israel would become the light of all the world (Zech. 4:11-14). The last of the OT prophets, John the Baptist was a burning lamp of testimony shining until Jesus—the True Light—came in the glory of the Father (John 5:33-35).

Jesus indicated the type of person entering the Messianic Kingdom would—like a lamp on a stand rather than one hidden beneath a basket—shine forth the light of God’s glory (Matt. 5:14-16). The eye is the lamp of the body; Christ’s followers see through the perspective of God’s viewpoint so that light permeates their whole person, in contrast to the darkened understanding of the spiritually blind (Matt. 6:22; Luke 11:34). We are to keep our lamps of spiritual readiness lit as we await His return (Luke 12:35-37). For we have an enlightening teacher in the written Word, a lamp shining in a dark place until the day dawns and the morning star—the Eternal Light, Jesus—rises in our hearts to shine greater understanding, dispelling the darkness forever (2 Pet. 1:19; Rev. 22:16).

Exiled to Patmos, John the Apostle envisioned Jesus standing in the midst of seven lampstands, representing seven historic churches (now in Muslim territory) that once cast His light onto the world but whose testimony He snuffed out when they no longer shone forth the truth of the Gospel; Jesus is present in churches where His truth holds fast (Rev. 1:9-13; Rev. 2:1-5). Alluding to Zechariah’s vision of lamps fed directly by olive trees, John wrote about the two witnesses in the end times who, full of the Spirit of God, will testify during the reign of the Antichrist regarding the Second Coming (Rev. 11:3-6). Someday all false religion and evil will be extinguished like a cold lamp (Rev. 18:20-24). In eternity, seven lamps of the Holy Spirit will burn before God’s throne, where the Lamb of God will illuminate the New Jerusalem forever (Rev. 4:5; Rev. 5:6; Rev. 21:23).

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Published October 29, 2012

Welcome to my ROLLED SCROLL study, where I follow cultural and literary images found in the Bible in an attempt to unearth God’s meaning in His pattern of usage.

CLOTHING (NT)

The finest clothing made is a person’s skin, but, of course, society demands something more than this.

—Mark Twain, New York Times, 1906

It’s always the badly dressed people who are the most interesting.

—Jean Paul Gaultier, Designer

Poets and wags have much to say on the subject of what to wear, but the story of clothing is most fascinating as told through Scripture. In last month’s post we followed OT images of clothing that illustrate God’s character as Creator, Provider, and Judge; they relate to the Fall of mankind into sin, God’s care for Israel physically through daily supply and spiritually through priestly blood sacrifice, and His promises to one day bring His people back to Himself again.

The New Testament carries on the motif of clothing with meaning progressively added, beginning with the Gospels where a sort of salvation history can be traced chronologically in the life of Christ:

At His Nativity, Jesus was wrapped in swaddling cloths and (though not specified here) we can imagine the rich outfits of the visiting Magi, the rags of the peasant shepherds, and the shining glory of the angels’ apparel (Luke 2:7-13; Matt. 2:1ff).
John the Baptist preached in camel’s hair and leather so distinct from the long robes of the religious leaders, marking him as a prophet and indicating his message of Christ’s very different in-breaking kingdom (Matt. 3:4; Luke 7:24-27; Luke 20:46).
The element of clothing was involved in Jesus’ ministry. Those who touched His garments in faith were physically healed (Mark 5:25-34; Mark 6:56). He warned against false teachers as wolves dressed like sheep, and admonished believers to care for the poor and naked (Luke 12:23-28; Matt. 7:15; Matt. 25:36-43). Where the OT Law had disallowed lending or taking of one’s cloak, Jesus’ law of love prescribed turning the cheek and giving more than was demanded (Matt. 5:40; Luke 6:29; see also Exod. 22:26).
In Jesus’ parables the prodigal son received his father’s best robe upon returning as believers receive God’s gracious welcome home; the “purple and fine linen” of the rich man did not get him into the Heaven that poor Lazarus entered; and wedding clothes depicted righteousness in Jesus’ economy (Luke 15:22; Luke 16:19-20ff; Matt. 22:11-14).
On the Mount of Transfiguration, Jesus’ clothing became “bright as a flash of lightning” (NIV) as He spoke to Elijah and Moses about His coming departure from this world through which He would bring salvation (Matt. 17:2; Luke 9:28-31).
In the Triumphal Entry, Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a saddle of His disciples’ cloaks, His donkey treading on the coats that the crowd spread before them (Matt. 21:6-8).
During the arrest and trial, He was brought before Caiaphas who, in fury over Jesus’ “blasphemous” statement of His deity, tore his own priestly garb (which, incidentally, the Law forbade; Lev. 21:10; Matt. 26:65). Soldiers stripped the condemned Jesus, dressing Him in the scarlet robes of a king to mock and humiliate Him (Matt. 27:27-31).
At the Crucifixion, His garments were divided up into lots in fulfillment of prophecy (Matt. 27:35; John 19:23-24).
But at His Resurrection from the dead, He left behind the linen shroud in which His body was wrapped, exchanging it for transcendent, heavenly clothing (Matt. 27:59; John 20:3-7; Rev. 1:13).
The angels attending the tomb were dressed resplendently, as were the angels standing beside the disciples at Jesus’ Ascension into Heaven (Matt. 28:3; Luke 24:4; Acts 1:10).

The literary emblem of clothing is sustained past Jesus’ departure from this world, with the rest of the New Testament continuing to teach and interpret God’s message for believers. Acts notes that the early church included Dorcas and Lydia, the first a seamstress who donated dresses to widows and who died and was brought back to life by Peter, the second a tradeswoman who dealt in the highly prized purple cloth from Thyatira (Acts 9:39-40; Acts 16:14). Paul (who before conversion gave his approval to the stoning of the first Christian martyr, Stephen, by the act of guarding the garments of the killers) taught that we believers are to “cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light” (Acts 7: 58-8:1; Acts 22:20; Rom. 13:12). We’re further instructed to dress modestly in worship (for our beauty as women does not come from outward adornment), to be content with God’s provisions of food and clothing, and not to show preferential treatment based on the richness or shabbiness of a worshiper’s attire (1 Tim. 2:8-10; 1 Pet. 3:3-4; 1 Tim. 6:8; James 2:2-3; Luke 12:27-28). For we have “put off” the old self of sinful ways and “put on” the new self like a garment (Col. 3:9-10).

In a future day, when Jesus calls us Heavenward, our bodies will put on imperishability and immortality (1 Cor. 15:53). We will then be dressed as His Bride in the “fine linen” of righteousness that God has declared belongs to those who trust Christ’s payment for sin, and the robes of the Tribulation saints will have been washed in the blood of the Lamb to remove all stains (Rev. 7:14). The church is Christ’s Bride, comprised of saints who work righteous deeds in His power, and by His work on the Cross Jesus has purchased our wedding gown for us:

Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure—for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints. (Rev. 19:7-8 ESV)

In perhaps the strongest declaration of the glorious Coming of Jesus Christ the Prophet, Priest, and King, we read again of His attire:

He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which he is called is The Word of God. And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses. From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has a name written, King of kings and Lord of lords. (Rev. 19:13-16 ESV)

Clothing is a comprehensive biblical motif expressing God’s judgment against sin demanding blood atonement, His provision of Jesus as the final sacrifice of complete covering, and our marriage to His Son for which we, the church—the Bride of Christ—are dressed in the robe of His righteousness.

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Published September 27, 2012

Welcome to my ROLLED SCROLL study, where I follow cultural and literary images found in the Bible in an attempt to unearth God’s meaning in His pattern of usage.

CLOTHING

I spent three muggy summer months in Japan when I was twenty, during which time a generous host family outfitted me in a traditional ensemble: navy-and-white cotton yukata robe, brilliant yellow obi sash, wooden geta sandals in the lucky colour red. My round eyes and wild blonde perm notwithstanding, I felt very Japanese! I’d been initiated into the culture by identifying with that ancient emblem, the national costume. Of course, long before countries divided into geographical entities—at the dawn of civilization, in the “age of innocence”—apparel wasn’t even an issue.

History: The Old Testament relates the history of clothing beginning in the Garden of Eden, when Adam and Eve traded in their nudity for a suit of fig leaves they vainly hoped would cover their shame from succumbing to the lies of chaos and death brought by Satan (disguised as a snake; Gen. 3:1-10). But before God turned them out of the Garden of communion with Him, He provided a covering of animal skins in the first biblical bloodletting—the genesis of the sacrificial system of substitutionary sin atonement (Gen. 3:20-24).

Value: The next biblical scene shows Abraham, through his servant, negotiating for Isaac’s wife with a dowry of jewellery and garments (Gen 24:52-53). High economic value was placed on raiment as gifts, trade items, and plunder taken in war (Judg. 17:10; 2 Chron. 9:24; Josh. 22:8; 1 Sam. 27:9). One’s outfit was a mark of one’s status: widows could be distinguished from prostitutes; lepers shredded their clothes to warn others of their disease; kings and courtiers were dressed for success; penitents and mourners wore sackcloth—dark, coarse goat’s hair also used to make grain sacks (Gen. 38:14-19; Lev. 13:45; Gen. 41:42; 2 Sam. 3:31).

Religion: Clothing took on the religious significance of purity and consecration when God prescribed fine linen from turban to breeches for the priests, with gold embroidery decorating the high priest’s extravagant and bejewelled outfit (Exod. 28:2-5; Exod. 29:21; Lev. 19:19). This pristine attire was splattered with blood during temple offerings, showing the defilement of sin (Lam. 4:14). Tearing of one’s own clothes was a synonym for grief, as when the prophet Ezra learned of the sin of Israel’s intermarriage; tearing off another’s clothing showed subjugation, as when conquered kings were stripped of their vestments and their authority (Ezra 9:3; Job 12:17-19; Job 19:9).

God’s provision for His people extended to their wardrobes: during Israel’s forty years in the wilderness, the wanderers’ apparel and even footwear miraculously didn’t deteriorate (Deut. 8:4; Deut. 29:5). The most-used fabrics for the outer mantle and inner tunic worn both men and women in Bible times were wool, linen, and cotton (and possibly silk)—although flax and fleece were never woven together unless for priests (Deut. 22:11). One’s cloak, used to carry goods, was not to be loaned out or taken, as it doubled as a blanket at night (Exod. 12:34; Exod. 22: 25-26; Deut. 24:13).

God’s character: The OT uses the metaphor to explain God’s character as Creator and Judge. He clothes the heavens with blackness and wraps up the waters in a garment, and attires the fields in lilies for a more stunning effect than the glory of Solomon’s wardrobe (Isa. 50:3; Prov. 30:4; see also Luke 12:27-28). The clouds are the garments of the sea, and the sea in turn dresses the deep, and Leviathan wears his skin like a raincoat that no human can remove (Job 38:9; Ps. 104:6; Job 41:13). Yet someday the heavens and earth will wear out, and God will roll them up like a mantle and change the clothing of creation (Ps. 102:25-26; Isa. 50:9; Isa. 51:6-8; Heb. 1:12). For now, God robes Himself with honour and majesty; He wraps Himself in light as a garment, and in the armoury of righteousness, salvation, vengeance, and zeal (Ps. 104:1-2; Isa. 59:17). In vivid messianic prophecy, Isaiah described the coming of the Lord in priest-like robes splattered blood-red from treading the winepress of judgment (Isa. 63:1-3). And yet, again with the imagery of dressing, God expressed joy that Jerusalem would be brought out of exile and rebuilt:

Awake, awake, put on your strength, O Zion; put on your beautiful garments, O Jerusalem, the holy city. (Isa. 52:1 ESV)

Bible stories: The lives of some of the most colourful biblical characters feature clothing:

Jacob, vying for Esau’s inheritance of blessing by tricking their blind father, put on his brother’s clothes and bound goatskin onto his hands and neck to mimic the scent and feel of his hairy twin (Gen. 27: 15-27).
Joseph’s ornate tunic signifying his special status in the family was stripped from him when he was sold into slavery; he displayed his moral integrity when he ran from his master’s wife, leaving his outer cloak in the seductress’s hand as evidence of his supposed attack; then rising to political prominence he donned robes of fine linen and presented gifts of clothing when reunited to his estranged family (Gen. 37:3-23; Gen. 39:12-18; Gen. 41:42; Gen. 45:22)
Mighty Samson needed thirty outfits to pay off a wager from his riddle of the lion and the bees (Judg. 14:10-19).
Widowed Ruth wore her finest when meeting Boaz on the threshing floor, where she asked him to cover her with the edge of his garment in a ceremony indicating his redeeming protection and provision; he sent her home carrying her cloak filled with barley (Ruth 3:1-3ff).
Hannah made a linen frock every year to take up to her son, Samuel, serving since boyhood in the temple in Jerusalem (1 Sam. 2:19).
Elisha—crying out and tearing his own clothes as Elijah was borne by a whirlwind to Heaven—picked up from the ground where it was dropped his predecessor’s mantle of authority and power (2 Kings 2:11-14).
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego survived Nebuchadnezzar’s fiery furnace without a hair of their heads singed or the smell of smoke clinging to their cloaks (Dan. 3:19-27).
Lovely Queen Esther donned royal robes before entering the presence of the king of Persia to prevent the genocide of God’s people (Esther 5:1-3ff).
Jonah, freshly vomited from the fish, proclaimed God’s message demanding repentance and saw all of Nineveh—from the king down to the donkeys—garbed in sackcloth (Jonah 3:5-8).

Faithfulness: The image of clothing can relate to faithfulness(or lack of it). At times God’s people wore the whore’s gown of apostasy, but upon repentance they were dressed in robes of righteousness and salvation (Ezek. 16:16; Isa. 61:10). In beautiful matrimonial language that reminds us of the foregoing story of Ruth, as well as the future Wedding Feast of the Lamb, God described His covenant with Jerusalem:

When I passed by you again and saw you, behold, you were at the age for love, and I spread the corner of my garment over you and covered your nakedness; I made my vow to you and entered into a covenant with you, declares the Lord God, and you became mine. Then I bathed you with water and washed off your blood from you and anointed you with oil. I clothed you also with embroidered cloth and shod you with fine leather. I wrapped you in fine linen and covered you with silk. (Ezek. 16:8-10 ESV)

Prophecy: As the Old Testament draws to a close, we’re left with ringing prophecies (some yet to be fulfilled). Daniel pictured the Ancient of Days taking His seat on a flaming throne in vesture as white as snow (Dan. 7:9). Hosea spoke of God in judgment against unfaithful Israel as a husband taking back his wool and his flax to expose his adulterous wife’s nakedness and uncover her lewdness in the sight of her lovers (Hosea 2:9-10). Joel talked about the Day of the Lord bringing the mourning of a bride for the groom of her youth, dressed in sackcloth rather than nuptial robes, and of the sorrowing Jewish priests putting on sackcloth to lament the cessation of temple sacrifices (Joel 1:8-13).

We see from an OT survey how images of clothing illustrate God’s character as Creator, Provider, and Judge, relating to the Fall of mankind into sin, God’s care for Israel physically through daily supply and spiritually through priestly blood sacrifice, and His promises to one day bring His people back to Himself again.

To be continued . . .

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Published August 30, 2012

Welcome to my ROLLED SCROLL study, where I follow cultural and literary images found in the Bible in an attempt to unearth God’s meaning in His pattern of usage.

RAINBOW

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high,
There’s a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.

Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.

— E.Y. Young, Over the Rainbow

This song, written for the 1939 Wizard of Oz film, expresses an ancient longing for the divine, a yearning to fly off into the heavens of everlasting bliss glimpsed by every heart since Adam and Eve first lost the Garden. In biblical literature, the rainbow is a strong but seldom-used image, appearing in only four settings—twice in the Old Testament and twice in the New.

Of course every Sunday school student knows the iconic OT story of the Great Flood, when God drew the rainbow in the sky as an everlasting sign of His covenant to Noah—a reminder to all mankind and even to Himself that He would never again send such a deluge to drown out the earth (Gen. 9:13-16; read the full story in Gen. 6:1-9:17). We encounter the English word next in a description of the glory of God that surrounds Him like the radiance of “a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day” (Ezek. 1:28 NIV). But in both cases, the Hebrew word translated into English as rainbow—qesheth—more clearly refers to a military bow, and this concept of bow and arrow is used throughout the OT in connection with God’s judgment (e.g., Ps. 7:11-12; Ps. 77:17; Ezek. 5:15-16; Zech. 9:14; 2 Sam. 22:14-15). In other words, God set the prismatic arch in the clouds above Noah’s grounded Ark as though He were hanging up His bow at the end of a battle, putting away his weapon after His fury with evil had been for the time appeased, to be faced again in the end times before eternal peace (Zech. 14:1-3; Rev. 19:15; Rev. 20:6).

In the NT apocalyptic book of Revelation, the Greek word for both references to the rainbow is iris (bringing to the minds of John’s contemporaries, perhaps, the mythological goddess named Iris, said to be the personification of the rainbow and the messenger of Zeus to mortals—a bridge between divinity and humanity). John was taken into heaven; he envisioned a mighty angel robed in a cloud with a rainbow above his head, and the Lord Himself sitting on His throne encircled by a rainbow (Rev. 10:1; Rev. 4:3). The spectrum of hues mentioned here harks back to the OT descriptions of the vest worn by the Jewish high priest and also alludes to the foundation of the New Jerusalem—both garment and groundwork encrusted with twelve precious jewels (such as emerald, jasper, amethyst, topaz) signifying God’s matchless magnificence (Exod. 28:17-21; Isa. 54:11-12; Rev. 21:19-21).

All this talk of rainbows and gemstones brings up the subject of colors in the Bible, some of them taking on special meaning as they’re applied within the context of the narrative. For example, green is often associated with God’s provision through nature—of vegetation for food and pastures to lie in (Gen. 1:30; Ps. 23:2; Mark 6:39). God promised that those who trust in His steadfast love would flourish like green olive trees, but it was “under every green tree” that His faithless people worshipped idols (Ps. 52:8; Jer. 3:6). God, patient and merciful, yet warns of ecological devastation He’ll someday visit upon the earth in judgment (Rev. 8:7).

Another colour was mentioned by the Apostle Paul when he wrote of Lydia, whose business was dealing in purple cloth; as purple dye was a luxurious commodity prepared from rare molluscs found on the Mediterranean coast, and affordable only to the wealthy, it became indicative of royalty and strength (Acts 16:14; Dan. 5:29; Esther 1:6-7; Rev. 17:4). In mockery, the Roman soldiers dressed Jesus in a royal purple robe for His trial (John19:2-5).

Black illustrates God’s righteous anger, as in His chastising desolation of Jerusalem whose citizens’ fine white complexions were blackened like soot as their bodies shrivelled with starvation (Lam. 4:6-8). At times God comes in darkness like a black storm, or sends a rider on a black horse carrying scales of justice (Ps. 18:9-14; Isa. 50:3; Joel 2:1-2; Rev. 6:5). The day of the Lord’s victory over his enemies was “already but not yet” fulfilled at Jesus’ crucifixion, when a preternatural gloom fell over the whole land (Zeph. 1:15; Matt. 27:45).

In contrast to the black darkness of God’s wrath upon the guilty, His sustenance and forgiveness bring inner cleansing represented by the colour white. For example, the sweet manna He sent to nourish the Israelites on their journey was white, and the psalmist asked for God to wash him whiter than snow (Exod. 16:31; Ps. 51:7). Although a false whiteness is mentioned in the Bible (as when Jesus called the Pharisees of His day “whitewashed tombs” hiding putrification), yet the colour usually symbolizes purity (Matt. 23:27). At the Transfiguration Jesus shone “white as light” and—similar to His Father, the Ancient of Days—the Son is pictured in white as the Lord of glory (Luke 9:29; Dan. 7:9; Rev. 1:13-15). Angels appear in white as well (John 20:12; Acts 1:10). The victorious redeemed ride white horses, and heaven’s residents in pristine linen receive new names written on white stones (Rev. 19:14; Rev. 3:4-5; Rev. 6:11; Rev. 2:17). Believers are “refined, purified, and made white,” and robes are washed in the blood of the Lamb to remove all stains (Dan. 11:35; Rev. 7:14).

The starkness of red or scarlet often stands for the blood necessary in expiation, foreshadowing the final blood sacrifice of the Lamb of God taking away the sins of the world (Lev. 14:4-6; John 1:29; Heb. 9:11-14ff).

Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord:
though your sins are like scarlet,
they shall be as white as snow;
though they are red like crimson,
they shall become like wool. (Isa. 1:18)

On the other hand, the harlot Babylon is described as sitting on a scarlet beast symbolic of the false religious system that will be in place when Jesus returns, and the scarlet of her clothing speaks of political power and riches further identifying Babylon with sin (Rev. 17:3; Rev. 18:15-20).

Bluelinen,the colour of the sky synonymous with the boundary line separating sacred from profane, was worn by Jewish priests performing mediatory rites and (along with other colours) draped the portable Tabernacle furniture to shield the holy items from contamination (Exod. 39:1; Num. 4:4-7). Likewise, the curtains of the Tabernacle and subsequent Temple in Jerusalem were made of blue, scarlet, and purple twisted linen with cherubim worked in threads of golden embroidery, with the “veil” separating the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place—the very presence of God (Exod. 26:31-34). This multi-coloured veil might well have reminded the Israelites of the covenant rainbow, or perhaps it spoke to them of the glory of God once so far off in His celestial home and now living amongst them (Exod. 40:34). It was this veil—this barrier between the iniquity of man and the holiness of God—that was torn in half from top to bottom upon the death of the Man/God Jesus Christ, who’d become human to dwell among us (Matt. 27:50-51; John 1:14). Now mankind had free access to the presence of the Father through the flesh of the Son (Heb. 6:19-20; Heb. 10:19-22).

The colours of the rainbow—from the greening of creation to the shed blood of Christ—radiate throughout Scripture and reflect the grace of God in His promises, provision, and protection.

To comment on this reading, or to subscribe or unsubscribe to a monthly email reminder of new postings, please write me: deb@rolledscroll.com.

These short literary articles tied to the Bible explore what God might have been saying in His pattern of usage for each symbol. English rendition of the original Hebrew, Aramaic, or Greek varies with translations (e.g., “scroll” is sometimes interchangeable with “book”); however, the quality and underlying meaning of the selected emblem remain consistent across versions. Sketches are by Lorenda Harder. I recommend the website of Dr. Grant C. Richison for thorough expository Bible study: www.versebyversecommentary.com.

Published July 14, 2012

Welcome to my ROLLED SCROLL study, where I follow cultural and literary images found in the Bible in an attempt to unearth God’s meaning in His pattern of usage.

CHAIR

Just about eleven o’clock, the door-latch was raised quietly, and in stepped the master. He threw himself into a chair, laughing and groaning, and bid them all stand off, for he was nearly killed—he would not have such another walk for the three kingdoms.

—Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

I love the passage in Wuthering Heights about Mr. Earnshaw’s long-anticipated arrival home, with the ragamuffin Heathcliff tucked into the folds of his greatcoat, and his family crowding around him as he sat down before the fire in his wingback chair in a posture of authority and rest.

This scenario of sitting down is played over and again throughout Scripture, too, with the furniture of the chair sometimes mentioned and other times not. Several words in the original Bible languages translate into English as “seat,” “bench,” “chair,” “throne,” and so on. We can group the occurrences of a person taking a seat, or sitting down, using the two broad categories of authority and rest.

Authority:In the Bible, the symbolism of sitting often carries the meaning of responsibility in a political, social, or spiritual sense. A high-ranking official might seat himself at the city gate—like Lot, who was visited by two angels at the entrance to Sodom before its destruction, or like a man of honour hobnobbing with the town elders (Gen. 19:1; Prov. 31:23; Ruth 4:1-2). Esther’s relative and a royal advisor with special privileges, Mordecai took his place at the gate of King Xerxes (Esther 2:19-21; Esther 5:1). Judges and priests sat down when they pronounced or instructed, and God sits as the ultimate Judge (Judg. 4:4-5; Judg. 4:9; 1 Sam. 1:9; 2 Chron. 19:8). One day we will stand before the bema (judgment platform) of the seated Lord to receive reward for works done in His name (Rom. 14:10; 2 Cor. 5:10).

In Bible times people often sat, too, as they were learning; for example, Jesus implored His friend Martha—busily preparing food—to instead join her sister Mary at His feet and listen to His words (Luke 10:38-42). He Himself sat to teach—beside the sea, on the mountain, in the temple (Matt. 13:1; Matt. 5:1-2; Matt. 15:29; Matt. 26:55). As Jesus and His disciples reclined around the table (likely upon cushions or divans), He taught them lessons about humility in seating oneself at the lowest place, and about the New Covenant of His blood (Luke 14:7-11; Luke 22:14ff; 1 Cor. 11:23-26). He described the Kingdom of God as a banquet where the faithful sit at table (Matt. 8:11; Matt. 22:1-3ff; Luke 14:15; see also Isa. 25:6).

(As an aside, one of the Greek words for chair—kathedra—appears in the New Testament only three times, once in referring to the “seat of Moses” that was filled by the hypocritical Jewish teachers of the Law, and twice to the dove sellers’ “seats” overthrown by Jesus along with the moneychangers’ tables in the temple [Matt. 23:1-3; Matt. 21:12; Mark 11:15]. The subsequent development of this word kathedra is historically interesting: the Latin phrase ex cathedra came to designate the validity of instruction issuing from the “throne”of the papal chair—a doctrine challenged by the Protestant Reformers who believed in Scripture as authoritative over church tradition.)

The throne in Scripture signifies both human power and the kingship of God. For example, Egyptian pharaohs and Babylonian rulers sat on a royal dais (Exod. 12:29; Jer. 43:10). Solomon’s ivory-and-gold chair was known for its splendour, and the Lord is pictured as sitting on His throne with the host of Heaven surrounding Him (1 Kings 10:18; 2 Chron. 9:18-19; 1 Kings 22:19; Ps. 7:7; Ps. 113:5). The throne of David on earth will one day be occupied by the Lord Jesus Himself, who will reign in peaceful sovereignty over the whole world and finally put an end to the “church-versus-state” debate as He rules truly ex cathedra (1 Kings 2:33; Isa. 9:7; Isa. 16:5; Luke 1:32). The Son now sits exalted beside the Father’s throne in heaven, as we see in Daniel’s vision of the Ancient of Days as well as in the gospel narratives (Dan. 7:9-14; Matt. 19:28; Matt. 26:64; Mark 14:62; Mark 16:19; Luke 22:69). Paul expanded on the royalty of King Jesus and our future place in His enthroned glorification (Eph. 1:20-22; Col. 3:1).

The writer of Hebrews compared the never-ending work of the Jewish temple priest (who stood to administer his earthly service day after day) with the once-for-all sacrifice of Christ (who sits, His work completed forever):

Now the point in what we are saying is this: we have such a high priest, one who is seated at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in heaven . . . Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross . . . (Heb. 8:1 and 12:1-2 ESV)

The biblical picture of the seated Christ symbolizes His ultimate religious and royal authority as the Prophet, Priest, and King foretold throughout Scripture.

Rest: In the Bible, sitting represents not only authority but also rest. Current society loves leisure, which often bears little resemblance to the rest prescribed throughout Scripture. We know how to work and how to play, but we often neglect the tranquility of “sitting down on the inside.”

The concept of rest harks back to the first book in the Bible. In the beginning, God worked vigorously in creating the world, and then He sat down and put His feet up; that is, He “rested” (Hebrew: shabath or “sabbath”; Gen. 2:1-3). But Adam and Eve’s fall into sin caused the restlessness of all mankind, and so in Moses’ day God instituted the covenant sign of the Sabbath, marking Israel as God’s chosen people and reminding them that He had brought them out of slavery in Egypt and was leading them to their future home of rest in the Promised Land of Canaan (Exod. 31:13-17; Deut. 5:15; Gen. 12:1, Deut. 3:18-20). They could depend on Provider God, for this rest is a matter of ceasing from human endeavour and worldly striving:

In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength (Isa. 30:15 ESV)

The beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders. (Deut. 33:12 NIV)

We, too, find this restful peace with God—this “sitting down” at the table of fellowship with Him—when we come to Him through Christ Jesus (Rom. 5:1; Eph. 2:12-14). Then we can rest from anxiety, for God has promised to meet our needs and give us internal restfulness when we cast our cares on Him (Isa. 26:3; Matt. 6:25ff; Phil. 4:6-9; 1 Pet. 5:7). Jesus calls to us:

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. (Matt. 11:28-29 ESV)

The blessing of a peaceful, joyous relationship with God comes to those who refuse to “sit in the seat of scoffers” and instead meditate on God’s Word (Ps. 1:1). This Sabbath rest of relationship promised to the Israelites can be ours, as well, if we soften our hearts to hear His voice urging us to cease from our own labours and trust instead in the work of Christ on the cross (Heb. 3:3-11). Moses instituted the sacrificial system of the high-priestly offerings for the sins of the people, who longed to be “at home” in the Promised Land (Heb. 10:11-14). But Christ’s once-for-all sacrifice as Great High Priest ushers us today into the Sabbath rest of His presence—where, because of His free gift of salvation, we can come boldly before God’s throne to be eternally seated in heavenly places with Jesus (Heb. 2:6; Heb. 4:16; Rev. 14:13).

To comment on this reading, or to subscribe or unsubscribe to a monthly email reminder of new postings, please write me: deb@rolledscroll.com.

Published June 1, 2012

Welcome to my ROLLED SCROLL study, where I follow cultural and literary images found in the Bible in an attempt to unearth God’s meaning in His pattern of usage.

HOUSE

“ ‘My grandmother,’ I said in a low tone, ‘would have said that we were all in exile, and that no earthly house could cure the holy homesickness that forbids us rest.’ ”

—G.K. Chesterton, Manalive

I’m awaiting the upcoming movie adaptation of G.K. Chesterton’s 1912 novel Manalive, premiering this summer. Chesterton was the subject of my graduate thesis a decade ago, fascinating me with his ability to invest images with symbolic meaning. The spiritual theme of “finding home” played throughout his writings—not surprising, given the influence of Christianity in his literary development.

The Bible, too, is rich in word pictures relating to house and home, including terms such as dwelling place (or resting place, or place to return to), family (or dynasty, or household), human body, tent, tabernacle, refuge and sanctuary, the Church, Heaven, and many analogous expressions. Our contemporary English tendency to distinguish “house” from “home” is not evident in the Hebrew and Greek Scriptures, the Bible using the words interchangeably.

Let’s begin with the story of Creation, when God “laid the foundations” of the earth, intending to fill it with inhabitants—His household—made in His image (Gen. 1:27-28; Isa. 48:13; Eph. 2:19). Adam and Eve were evicted from their home of the Garden—that is, from intimate communion with their Creator—now just tenants in the fallen house of the broken world (Gen. 3:23-24). This loss was followed by God’s nomadic curse upon their murderous son, Cain, and the tendency of mankind’s fugitive heart has been to restlessly wander from the home of God’s presence ever since (Gen. 4:11-12; Isa. 53:6).

The generations following that first human family grew increasingly corrupt, so that God—whose own abode was in heaven—looked down upon His footstool of the world and decided to do a thorough housecleaning (Isa. 37:16; Isa. 66:1-2; Gen. 6:5-7). He sent a great flood to sweep away evildoers, but saved Noah and his family in a houseboat that carried them over the waters of destruction, settling them securely in the land once more (Gen. 7:7; Gen. 7:23; Gen. 9:1). But again and again the earth’s residents challenged God’s claim on them, until He called out a people of His own from the pagan world, promising Abraham (who left his homeland for a new home) that Israel would become a great nation, a great name, and a great blessing to all people (Gen. 12:1-3; Heb. 11:8-10).

Further to that, God made a covenantal promise to Moses of a new homeland in Canaan,

a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and springs, flowing out in the valleys and hills, a land of wheat and barley, of vines and fig trees and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey. (Deut. 8:7-8 ESV)

The Israelites sought this homeland with God in their midst, for on Mount Sinai, along with the Ten Commandments, He gave Moses a blueprint for the portable Tabernacle or Tent of Meeting, a “house on earth” for God to indwell (Exod. 25:8; 1 Kings 8:29). God accompanied them but—after forty years of wandering homeless in the desert before crossing the Jordan River into the Promised Land, through centuries of His faithful provision and loving discipline that sometimes included exile from their homeland—the idolatrous children of Israel continued to wander away spiritually from their eternal Father, who was their “dwelling place” (Jer.13:10; Deut. 33:27).

Then Jesus left His heavenly home and came to reside on earth—God’s presence no longer a vaporous Cloud of Glory in the Holy of Holies but now a flesh-and-blood man “tabernacling” among us (Phil. 2:6-7; John 1:1-3; John 1:14). In Christ the whole fullness of God dwelt bodily (Col. 2:9). But though Jesus made His earthly home in Nazareth, He wasn’t recognized there; as He said when His neighbors took offense at His teaching, “A prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and in his own household” (Matt. 13:57 ESV). Jesus taught His disciples that as a father welcomes his prodigal son home, so too does God, our eternal Father, welcome the vagabond home into the embrace of His holy presence (Luke 15:21-24). Jesus not only showed us the way, He Himself became the road of our homecoming to Heaven, where He is preparing a place for us (John 14:1-6).

But for today Jesus promised that He would make His home with us, because we are God’s temple where His Spirit dwells; Christ dwells in our hearts through faith (John 14:23; 1 Cor. 3:16; 1 Cor. 6:19-20; Eph. 3:17-19). One day the nation of Israel will know the indwelling Spirit and fully reclaim her status as God’s family, but presently the corporate Church makes up the household of God (Jer. 31:33; Ezek. 36:26; 2 Cor. 3:3; Eph. 2:19; 1 Tim. 3:15). In proper relationship with God’s Son, we the Church become the house of God ourselves (Heb. 3:3-6).

Perhaps you and I will still be alive when Jesus returns in the clouds to gather all believers together with Him in the air and takes us to our eternal residence (1 Thess. 4:17). But in the meanwhile for the rest of us, the day is coming when the tents of our human bodies will be plucked up in death and no longer house our souls; then we’ll “put on” our heavenly dwelling with the Lord (Isa. 38:12; 2 Cor. 5:1-8). We’re each instructed to let the Word of Christ (the truths of the Bible) dwell in us richly, as the Person of Christ (His Holy Presence) dwells in our hearts through faith (Col. 3:15-16; Eph. 3:17).

In this way, our hearts become Christ’s home and, simultaneously, we find our home in Him—our exile ended, our holy homesickness cured. The beloved Anglican prayer sums up our homecoming in Christ:

Father of all, we give you thanks and praise that, when we were still far off, you met us in your Son and brought us home. (Church of England, Common Worship)

To comment on this reading, or to subscribe or unsubscribe to a monthly email reminder of new postings, please write me: deb@rolledscroll.com.

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