The Rev. Dr. Christopher R. Smith is an an ordained minister, a writer, and a biblical scholar. He was active in parish and student ministry for twenty-five years. He was a consulting editor to the International Bible Society (now Biblica) for The Books of the Bible, an edition of the New International Version (NIV) that presents the biblical books according to their natural literary outlines, without chapters and verses. His Understanding the Books of the Bible study guide series is keyed to this format. He was also a consultant to Tyndale House for the Immerse Bible, an edition of the New Living Translation (NLT) that similarly presents the Scriptures in their natural literary forms, without chapters and verses or section headings.
He has a B.A. from Harvard in English and American Literature and Language, a Master of Arts in Theological Studies from Gordon-Conwell, and a Ph.D. in the History of Christian Life and Thought, with a minor concentration in Bible, from Boston College, in the joint program with Andover Newton Theological School.
Q. Jesus says in the Sermon on the Mount, “When you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.” But just a little earlier, Jesus says, “Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.” Which is it? Are we supposed to do our good deeds secretly, so that only God can see, or publicly, so that others will see and praise God?
In these two teachings Jesus is actually addressing two different problems.
The problem he addresses first is people who have a sincere faith but who aren’t living it out through generosity and service to others. They are like “salt that has lost its saltiness” and a “lamp hidden under a bowl.” In other words, they’re supposed to be having a preserving influence on their community and setting the right example, but they’re not. So Jesus tells them to live out their faith through “good works” (not religious performance, but kindness and generosity), and this will lead others to recognize God’s compassionate character and praise Him for it.
The problem Jesus addresses next is people who are doing good works, but with bad motives. They’re giving to the poor just “to be honored by others.” Jesus says that if our sincere desire is to help those in need, we should do so discreetly and quietly, not to be praised by others, but to be part of God’s work of compassion in the world. When we do this, God will be pleased and will bless our efforts. (“Don’t let your left hand know what your right hand is doing” is an example of hyperbole or exaggeration, a technique Jesus often used to make a point. It’s impossible to do literally, but it actually means not calling attention to what you’re doing.)
So we do “good works,” on the one hand, in a way that others can see, not so that we will be praised, but so that God will be glorified for His compassion. But on the other hand we carefully avoid any self-promotion, because it’s not about us being honored, it’s about God’s purposes being advanced and God’s ways becoming known.
There’s a fine line to walk here. A donor might want to make a gift public, and even agree to have their name on a building, for example, to encourage others to give. That would be letting their light shine. But they’d always have to keep a watchful eye on their true motives.
Former President Jimmy Carter volunteers publicly with Habitat for Humanity to encourage others to take part in charitable work.
Q. Jesus told us to “take no thought for tomorrow.” But don’t we have to plan for the future?
When Matthew records Jesus’ teaching about what our attitude toward tomorrow should be, he uses a Greek word that can, in many contexts, mean to give careful consideration to something.
Paul uses the same word, for example, when he tells the Philippians that Timothy is genuinely concerned for their welfare, and when he writes in 1 Corinthians that all parts of Christ’s body should have equal concern for each other. The King James Version reflects this common meaning of the word in its translation of Jesus’ teaching, “Take no thought for tomorrow.”
This translation, however, can suggest to modern readers that we can and should take a spontaneous, impromptu approach to life, making no provision for the future. People can even spiritualize such an attitude, as I discuss in this post. Unfortunately, this can lead to many mistakes and misfortunes that could have been avoided with a little forethought. Even though these mistakes actually reflect a lack of due diligence, people can excuse them by saying they were following Jesus’ teaching. They might even judge others who do plan for the future.
This is all really a misunderstanding and misrepresentation of what Jesus was saying. The same Greek term can also mean—in fact, it more commonly means—to be unduly anxious or worried about something. The context in the Sermon on the Mount, where this saying of Jesus appears, shows that that is his intended meaning there.
Jesus assures us that our heavenly Father cares for us and will provide for us, so we don’t need to wonder, “What will we eat? What will we drink? What will we wear?” If we seek his kingdom and righteousness, all these things will be provided as well. And so, Jesus concludes, “do not worry about tomorrow” (NIV, NRSV) or “do not be anxious about tomorrow” (ESV).
Other passages in Scripture teach positively that we should plan carefully for the future. Proverbs, for example, teaches:
Be sure you know the condition of your flocks,
give careful attention to your herds;
for riches do not endure forever,
and a crown is not secure for all generations.
When the hay is removed and new growth appears
and the grass from the hills is gathered in,
the lambs will provide you with clothing,
and the goats with the price of a field.
You will have plenty of goats’ milk to feed your family
and to nourish your female servants.
Even though this teaching is offered in an ancient agricultural context, its implications are clear for us today. We can’t assume that things will always go well, so we need to make careful provisions for the future. But “careful” shouldn’t mean “full of care.” We shouldn’t be anxious or worried, but trust in our heavenly Father’s love. That’s what Jesus is telling us in the Sermon on the Mount.
Q. “Blessed are those who believe but do not see.” Some people have a very hard time with this.
I can understand why you say that. People tend to be oriented towards one of the senses as their chief means of acquiring information and making sense of the world. We speak of people as being “visually oriented,” or as “auditory learners,” etc.
For a visually oriented person, seeing literally is believing. The best way to get them to understand something is to show them. The world around them registers vividly in pictures in their minds, and that’s how they grasp things and make coherence of them. So it can be discouraging for such a person to encounter biblical statements such as, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
However, we need to appreciate that when Jesus said this to Thomas after inviting him to touch the wounds in his hands and side (was Thomas actually a tactile learner?), Jesus was actually observing that Thomas had the privilege of being an eyewitness to his life, ministry, death and especially resurrection. Everyone afterwards would have to believe in these things based on the testimony of those who had witnessed them. And so Jesus pronounces a blessing on all who believe in the witness of His chosen messengers.
Jesus isn’t privileging one way of knowing over another. In fact, in the Bible we often see God “speaking the language” of visually oriented people to help them believe and obey. He told Abraham, for example, to look up in the sky and count the stars, because that’s how many descendants he would have. Many of Jesus’ parables are actually vivid word pictures, like the ones about a camel going through the eye of a needle or a tiny mustard seed growing into a great tree. You really need to visualize these to “get” them. So God is an equal-opportunity communicator!
I was struck by this distinction between the visual and auditory styles when I was working on the Isaiah study guide. Some people believe the words of a single prophet are found throughout the whole book of Isaiah, while others who are equally committed to the inspiration and authority of the Bible as the word of God believe that a second prophet speaks later in the book. In the guide I explain the reasons for holding these different understandings.
One reason why many people believe there are two prophets is that in the first part of the book, God communicates with the prophet primarily through visual means, including an amazing vision of heavenly worship that becomes his calling. For his part, this prophet communicates with the people largely by acting out “signs” and even by putting up placards.
In the second part of the book, however, God communicates with the prophet primarily through speaking. This prophet is called when he hears and answers a voice. He later describes how God speaks to him as he awakens each morning.
This illustrated for me how God graciously adapts his communication to each one of us, “speaking our language” to help us understand who he is and how we can follow him. God knows that for many of us, seeing is believing. So he shows us things visually and then expects us to trust and obey him in light of those things—that’s where faith comes in.
So I’d encourage you to remember times when God has spoken to you through visual means. When have you experienced God in the beauty of creation? What objects has God brought into your life that speak of his love and care? What things have you observed that have served ever since as mini-parables about some aspect of God and his ways?
I think that if you reflect on experiences like these, you’ll find that you truly have been blessed, through what you’ve seen.
Thomas verifies the reality of Jesus’ resurrection (painting by Caravaggio)
Q. What bearing do you think Jesus clearing the temple of money changers and people selling animals for sacrifice has on modern megachurches that have cafes and/or bookstores in them?
Carl Heinrich Bloch, Jesus Cleansing the Temple
As I understand it, the main problems in the Jerusalem temple in the time of Jesus were that (1) commerce was displacing worship as a central activity and (2) sellers were actually cheating buyers. So today, if commercial activities are supporting the worship and outreach of a church instead of displacing it, and if the prices are honest, I think these activities can be legitimately conducted on the premises. Bookstores can make useful resources easily available, and cafes can provide a great gathering space.
As I observe in my study guide to the gospel of John, “A certain amount of commerce was necessary to support the operations of the temple in Jerusalem. Worshipers needed to buy animals to offer in sacrifice.” (Many of these animals would then supply food for shared meals). “They also needed to exchange their Roman coins for other coins that would not be offensive within the temple (since Roman coins called the emperor a god). In the time of Jesus, all of this commerce had been moved right into the temple court, which should have been reserved for worship.”
The equivalent today would be a church selling books, videos, and other paraphernalia right in its sanctuary, or running a cafe in the same space where worship took place, while the worship was happening. Under those circumstances, we could see how commercial activities, even if pursued in support of the church’s overall mission, could be crowding out worship. So these activities need to be kept in their own appropriate places and times. And of course the pricing should always be honest and fair.
I think we also need to be very careful of other kinds of supporting activities. A while back I visited a church and saw something like this in the bulletin. “Notice to visitors: Your presence on our property today constitutes your permission for your image to be used in photos and videos promoting our church.” As important as it is to let the surrounding community know about the church and its activities, I wondered whether someone who was visiting the church because they were sincerely interested in finding out more about what it means to follow Jesus would be getting the right message from a notice like that.
Because it’s so important to conduct supporting commercial and promotional activities in a way that doesn’t impinge on the church’s mission and message, in my study guide to the gospel of Mark, when groups discuss the temple cleansing episode, I invite them to consider this question together:
“Changing money and selling doves were necessary for the ongoing operation of the temple. . . . But these commercial activities had now overtaken the temple area to such an extent that prayer and worship were being crowded out. If you’re part of a community of Jesus’ followers, share with the group how it handles the necessary commercial side of its existence and what measures it takes to keep this from crowding out spiritual activities.”
I think that’s the question you’d like all of us to consider.
Q. This is one I’ve always wondered about. In Luke 16 Jesus tells a parable about the shrewd manager. I think he shouldn’t have charged the creditors less just to start the cash flow, but the part that I don’t get is Jesus’ last remark—something like, “Make friends with the unrighteous, so that when you fail, they might accept you into everlasting homes.” (Huh? scratching the head).
This is definitely one of Jesus’ most puzzling parables. It seems as if the master represents God, and the manager stands for a typical servant of God, so it’s pretty shocking to hear Jesus say, “The master commended the dishonest manager . . .”
To understand what’s going on here, it’s helpful to realize that when Jesus tells a parable, there’s typically one single point of correspondence between the story he tells and something he wants us to understand about the kingdom of God.
For example, in the parable of the persistent widow a little bit later in Luke, Jesus talks about a judge who “neither fears God nor honors man.” Yet somehow this judge represents the God who hears our prayers! Jesus is making only a single point: we are called to perseverance in prayer. (There’s actually an implied contrast at the end: If perseverance pays off even with such a judge, “Will not God bring about justice?” So Jesus clearly isn’t making a further point about the character of God when he describes the judge.)
In the same way, the parable of the shrewd manager is making only a single point: Soon the money we now have in this world will be no longer at our disposal. (That is, our lives are shorter than we realize.) So we need to use our money while we can to “make for ourselves friends” who can receive us into “eternal dwellings.”
In other words, use the money you have on earth to make friends with God. Invest your money in ways that advance God’s purposes, and then God will take care of you when you leave this earth and “can’t take it with you.” (As I say in my Luke-Acts study guide, the manager “provides for his future by using resources he’s just about to lose.”)
Jesus isn’t praising dishonesty or cheating. He’s simply encouraging us to take the right attitude towards the money we have. But he does this through some startling language, another common characteristic of his parables.
As he wraps up this story, Jesus describes the manager as practicing “unrighteousness” (adikia) when he cheats his master. He then describes the money of this world as “the mammon of unrighteousness” (adikia).
He’s not saying that wealth is intrinsically evil. He wouldn’t call us to invest our wealth in God’s work on earth if it were. But he is saying that in this world, money is often used to manipulate other people (just as the steward does here) and to undervalue or overvalue things compared to their true worth in God’s eyes. In that sense it’s the “mammon of unrighteousness.”
But we can also use our for God’s purposes, and if we do, this will show that we belong in “eternal dwellings.” We will have made friends not “with the unrighteous” but “with the unrighteous mammon.” That is, by means of the corruptible and often corrupted money of this world, we can make friends who are really worth having.
Q. If The Books of the Bible is supposed to show the “natural literary outlines” of the biblical books, why doesn’t it highlight the “seven sevens” that structure the book of Revelation?
It’s true that many interpreters do see a pattern of seven sevens in the book of Revelation. While the details can differ, the basic outline is usually something like this:
• seven letters
• seven seals
• seven trumpets
• seven signs
• seven bowls
• seven great enemies defeated
• seven last things
It’s also true that the letters, seals, trumpets, and bowls organize the episodes in their specific parts of the book. For example, we don’t hear about John being told all at once to sit down and write seven letters. Rather, he’s told at the start of each one, “Write to this church,” and we hear the content of that letter before he’s told to write the next one. Similarly, the events following the opening of each seal are narrated before the next seal is opened. And so forth.
Albrecht Dürer (woodcut), Seven Angels are Given Seven Trumpets
It would certainly be elegant if we could show that a pattern like this structures every part of Revelation. Unfortunately, it doesn’t.
For one thing, only four of these “sevens” are actually named specifically in the text: the churches, seals, trumpets, and bowls. The other supposed series of “sevens” are not named or identified as such in the text, suggesting that no such further series are being used as intentional structuring devices.
And are they really even “sevens”? Of the so-called “seven signs,” for example, only five are introduced by vision formulas:
– “A great and wondrous sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun.”
– “Then another sign appeared in heaven: an enormous red dragon.”
– “And I saw a beast coming out of the sea.”
– “Then I saw another beast.”
– “Then I looked, and there before me was the Lamb.”
Interpreters sometimes identify two other “mystical figures” as “signs” in this part of the book, the woman’s child and Michael the angel. But these are actually characters in the ongoing narrative who are not presented as the focus of a given vision the way the others are. (Remember, the question is whether the elements in a given “seven” structure a series of episodes.) Besides, if the child and the angel count as “signs,” then why not count similar characters in the narrative as well, such as the earth, which helps the child, or the 144,000 who follow the Lamb?
As for “seven great enemies defeated,” it is true that after the seven bowls, Revelation describes the defeat and destruction of several enemies. These are named, interestingly, in the reverse order of their original appearance in the book, suggesting some possible structural significance: Babylon, the beast, the false prophet, the dragon, death, and hell. But the depiction of the sequential destruction of these enemies does not supply the structural outline for this section in Revelation. Rather, almost all of the section is about the destruction of Babylon; the destruction of all the other enemies is narrated more briefly at the end.
And this would be only six enemies anyway. Gog and Magog need to be added to make seven, and they break up the general pattern. They are not mentioned earlier in the book, only briefly here, and they are introduced and destroyed in the middle of the reverse-order sequence, between the beast and the dragon. (For that matter, why do they count as only one enemy, when “death and hell,” which are always mentioned together, are counted as two?)
Finally, as for the “seven last things,” these are not listed or identified in the text, so interpreters need to pick and choose from among the many features of the closing visions to get a total of seven (for example: the new heaven, the new earth, the new Jerusalem; the river of life, the tree of life, the book of life; the throne of God). But even so, once again these elements do not structure the episodes in this part of the book.
So if we try to outline Revelation based on “sevens,” what we actually get are four explicit sevens and three other sections that cannot be organized consistently into a sevenfold arrangement. Besides, an outline of “seven sevens” is not able to encompass one of the key parts of the book: John’s vision (right after the letters) of the Lamb receiving honor from the creatures around the heavenly throne.
If, on the other hand, we take the phrase “in the Spirit” as our structural cue, as explained in the “Invitation to Revelation” in The Books of the Bible, and as developed in more detail in the Daniel-Revelation study guide, we find that this phrase appears explicitly at the start of four major sections, providing a comprehensive structure for the book and its contents.
Nevertheless, an outline based on “seven sevens” is to be commended in one regard: it reflects an attempt to recognize the literary-structural signals that the book of Revelation itself is sending, rather than to rely simply on traditional chapters and verses as guides. As a result, in several parts of the book such an outline yields a structural understanding very close to the one we have indicated in The Books of the Bible, at least in terms of the arrangement and progression of individual episodes.
This illustrates that much about the structures of the biblical books can be recognized implicitly, so that even interpreters who are committed to different outlines can end up in broad agreement at many points.
So far we’ve seen how biblical characters such as Rahab and Samuel used deception to protect themselves and others from oppressors who held a significant power advantage, so that God’s purposes could be advanced. Here’s one more example of God apparently using deception as a tool against his opponents.
Ahab is such a wicked and oppressive king that God has decided his reign must end. God asks the hosts in heaven around him, “Who will entice Ahab into attacking Ramoth Gilead and going to his death there?” A spirit volunteers to “go out and be a deceiving spirit in the mouths of all his prophets.” “You will succeed in enticing him,” God replies. “Go and do it.”
A godly prophet named Micaiah sees all of this in a vision. When Ahab asks him for advice after all the prophets of Baal have promised victory, Micaiah goes along with the heavenly deception and answers, “Attack and be victorious, for the Lord will give the city into the king’s hand.”
Johann Christoph Wiegel, Micaiah’s Prophecy
Ahab isn’t buying it. Micaiah has never told him before that God will bless him. So why should he say so now? Ahab replies, “How many times must I make you swear to tell me nothing but the truth in the name of the Lord?” Micaiah may be prepared to use deception, but he’s not prepared to swear to it in the Lord’s name. So he admits to everything, describing the vision he saw and confessing that it’s all a ruse to lure Ahab to his death.
And no one believes it. One of Baal’s prophets slaps Micaiah in the face for lying. Ahab throws him in prison to await his triumphal return.
Then, even though Ahab goes into battle disguised as a common soldier, he’s killed by an arrow “drawn at random”—in other words, not aimed anywhere in particular. The deception accomplishes its purposed, aided by a little providential intervention.
If someone is so hardened against God that they don’t believe the truth even when they’ve exposed a deception, are they the kind of person God might strategically withhold the truth from? Is it possible for followers of Jesus to discern the extremely fine line between lying to benefit themselves and legitimately employing misinformation for God’s sake? The Scriptures invite us to ponder these questions and then live faithfully in light of the answers we find to them.
We asked last time whether it’s all right to use deception to further God’s purposes when we are up against powerful oppressors. Here’s another example from the Bible in which God actually seems to command the use of deception.
God has rejected Saul as king of Israel. He tells Samuel to go to Bethlehem and anoint one of Jesse’s sons instead. Samuel, knowing that Saul has become a ruthless tyrant who will hold onto power by any means, protests, “How can I go? If Saul hears about it, he will kill me.” God says in response, “Take a heifer with you and say ‘I have come to sacrifice to the Lord.’”
Samuel isn’t really going to Bethlehem to offer a sacrifice, that is, to host a fellowship meal that the townspeople can share as an act of devotion and celebration. He’s there on a subversive mission to anoint a new king. Samuel’s cover story, the heifer he brings along, and the religious ceremony he conducts are all a pious fraud to keep Saul from discovering the real purpose of the trip. And God seems to command it all.
Matia Preti, Samuel Anoints David
Is this the best we can do in a situation like this? Why couldn’t God keep Saul from finding out about Samuel’s trip? Why couldn’t God protect Samuel from Saul if he did find out about it? Sure, there’s a great power differential between Saul and his subjects, but isn’t God vastly more powerful than any earthly ruler?
When we read the whole story of the Bible, not just isolated verses here and there, we discover that in some places and times God does keep enemies from seeing or hearing things. He often delivers his people by his own great power. But in this and similar places, we also see God allowing or even authorizing the use of deception against opponents. This suggests that deception, under carefully controlled conditions, might be a valid means for followers of Jesus to use today against oppressors when there is a great power differential, like the Christians who sheltered Jews from the Nazis during the Holocaust.
We’ll take one more look next time at how God apparently uses deception against His opponents.
A friend of mine was taking a college ethics class. The professor told the class that there are some times when we don’t have to tell the truth. My friend is a follower of Jesus who’s read the Bible often, and he said a verse immediately came to his mind that suggested he should always tell the truth: “You must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor.”
But then he got to thinking about this a bit more. He realized there are several places in the Bible where God’s people don’t tell the truth, but even so, they aren’t criticized or punished. In fact, their actions sometimes seem to advance God’s purposes.
My friend thought of Rahab, for example, who lied about the spies to the men sent by the king of Jericho. She said they’d already left her house, when really she had hidden them on the roof. This saved their lives so they could report back to Joshua and he could plan the conquest of Canaan. Rahab is actually celebrated in the book of Hebrews as a hero of the faith because she sheltered the spies—but this involved not telling the truth.
James Tissot, Rahab and the Two Spies
So the issue really was more complicated than the “verse” that first occurred to my friend suggested. But he was well on his way to “understanding the books of the Bible,” because he was reflecting on important questions in light of the whole message of the Bible as told in its individual books and stories, not relying on simple answers based on proof texts.
But what about Rahab? What’s going on in cases like hers? As we talked over her story, we recognized that lying is one thing—not telling the truth in order to cover up wrongdoing or to get an unfair advantage over another person. Deception is quite another thing—using misinformation to protect people from violence and oppression in a situation where you don’t have the power to help them in any other way.
Unfortunately in the Bible we sometimes see even God’s people lying, and destructive consequences result. But we also see God’s people using the tool of deception or misinformation to further God’s purposes when powerful oppressors would otherwise thwart these purposes.
Is this sometimes the right thing to do? When there is a great power differential in favor of the oppressors, and God doesn’t step in miraculously to overcome that differential (as happens in other places in the Bible), is deception an acceptable tool for us to use? I’ll explore that question further in my next post.
Q. It says in Genesis, “When Abram heard that his relative had been taken captive, he called out the 318 trained men born in his household and went in pursuit as far as Dan.” But I thought that Dan the tribe, descended from Dan the son of Jacob, came before the land known as Dan. So how could the land of Dan appear in Genesis before the tribe of Dan?
The biblical authors typically use contemporary place names within historical accounts, even when the places in those accounts didn’t have those names at the time of the action described.
The city of Dan was actually known as Laish at the time of the events described in the account you read. It would not be named Dan until several hundred years later, by descendants of Abram’s great-grandson. But the biblical author uses the name for this place that readers will recognize.
In a couple of places in this same account, the author uses the old name and then gives the contemporary one: he speaks of “the king of Bela (that is, Zoar)” and “the Valley of Siddim (that is, the Dead Sea Valley).” But as a rule, the biblical authors use contemporary names.
We see this most clearly in cases where an account actually describes how a place got its name. For example, we read this in the story of Gideon in the book of Judges: “They also captured two of the Midianite leaders, Oreb and Zeeb. They killed Oreb at the rock of Oreb, and Zeeb at the winepress of Zeeb.”
What the account obviously means is that during this battle, the Israelites caught up with the Midianite leader Oreb at a certain large rock, where he was killed, and ever since then, that rock has been known as the “rock of Oreb.” They overtook the leader Zeeb at a certain winepress, where he was killed, so it got the name “winepress of Zeeb.” But the story is told as if those places already had those names.
It would be just like somebody today talking about something that Kareem Abdul-Jabbar did while playing basketball in college. At that time, his name was actually Lew Alcindor. But we use the name that our audience will recognize.
Lew Alcindor (later Kareem Abdul-Jabbar) coached by John Wooden at UCLA
Good Question 