With the possible exception of the story of the Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son is probably the most famous of Jesus’s parables. You’ve heard it before. No doubt you’ve read it. You’ve even heard it preached on at church. If there’s anything in the New Testament that you’ve got down by now, it’s the story of the Prodigal Son. It is absolutely certain that what Jesus means by that parable is that no matter what we do, no matter how far we run, we can always come back to God.

While that’s true, that’s not all that the parable is about. It goes, in fact, much, much deeper. To discover that meaning, may I recommend to you Tim Keller’s excellent book, The Prodigal God. You will never read the parable the same way again.

The key, Keller argues, is to recognize that there are two sons in the story, and both are lost. In fact, the younger brother may have captured the attention of the evangelical mind, but the story is really about the elder brother. It was originally told, after all, to a group of elder brothers called the Pharisees. The younger brother is lost because of his sin, but the elder brother is lost because of his righteousness.

Huh? How can that be? It is because the elder brother tried to manipulate and control his father by obeying all of the rules. “It is not his sins that create the barrier between [the elder brother] and his father, it’s the pride he has in his moral record; it’s not his wrongdoing but his righteousness that keeps him from sharing in the feast of his father.” Like the younger brother, the elder brother never truly cared about his father; he only cared about the estate. While the younger brother was audacious enough to demand it, the elder brother quietly resented his father’s presence whilst working slavishly to keep him happy. For elder brothers, “the good life is lived not for delight in good deeds themselves, but as calculated ways to control their environment.”

Where Keller goes from here will absolutely astound you, and no doubt leave that impression on your spirit that, at last, this parable makes complete sense! This book will be a valuable resource not only for understanding the parable of the Prodigal Son, but also of discovering how to rightly relate to God.

The first chapter of Genesis is the most hotly contested biblical text of our time. Theories and interpretations abound as scholars have turned the chapter upside down and inside out looking for biblical clues (and ammunition) to the origins of the universe. There are at least four major schools of interpretation on Genesis One: young-earth creationism; day-age theory; the gap theory; and the literary hypothesis. It’s time to add a fifth school to that list: John Walton’s cosmic temple inauguration.

Walton derives his thesis from his exploration of Ancient Near Eastern cultures and their creation myths. The problem with the current, Western interpretations of Genesis One is their failure to overcome the distance between our modern culture and the culture of ancient Israel (existing alongside and within larger cultures like Egypt and Babylon, which all have their own fascinating creation stories). “Despite all the distinctions that existed across the ancient world, any given culture was more similar to other ancient cultures than any of them are to Western American or European culture.” (12)

Crossing this cultural gulf means making one significant, and seemingly obvious, proposition: Genesis 1 is ancient cosmology. (16) This means that “it does not attempt to describe cosmology in modern terms or address modern questions.” (16) What, then, are the terms in which it describes cosmology? This is the crucial question, and what sets Walton’s interpretation on a different course from the others.

Moderns tend to think of creation only terms of material origins. What is the sun made of and how did it come into being? How long did it take for the mountains to be formed and how did they get their current shape? What is the physical composition of humanity and how did we get to be the way we are now? These are the questions of a modern, Enlightenment-oriented culture. But these are not the questions of a polytheistic culture, or even a monotheistic culture within a wider polytheistic world? In order to understand Genesis One, we need to ask the questions the ancients asked.

Rather than questioning the material origins of the universe, the ancients told stories about the functional origins of creation. Existence, for them, was not tied to the material properties of an object, but rather to how that object functioned within a closed system. “In a functional ontology, to bring something into existence would require giving it a function or a role in an ordered system, rather than giving it material properties.” (26) Walton proves his point through numerous examples from ancient Near Eastern texts, and concludes with this contrast between modern and ancient thinking: “We tend to think of the cosmos as a machine and argue whether someone is running the machine or not. The ancient world viewed the cosmos more like…a kingdom.” (35)

Functional Ontology is the cornerstone of Walton’s interpretation of Genesis One. Using this as his lens, he sees in Days 1-3 the creation of the three fundamental functions of life: time, weather, and food. “So on day one God created the basis for time; day two the basis for weather; and day three the basis for food. …If we desire to see the greatest work of the Creator, it is not to be found in the materials that he brought together—it is that he brought them together in such a way that they work.” (59) Perhaps a better translation of “It was good”, then, would be “It worked.”

From here, Walton proposes that Genesis One “should be understood as an account of functional origins of the cosmos as a temple.” (84) Because “divine rest takes place in temples,” (87) the seven days of creation are best understood as a temple inauguration. “By naming the functions and installing the functionaries, and finally by deity entering his resting place, the temple comes into existence—it is created in the inauguration ceremony.” (89)

The implications of this interpretation are numerous., but I will only mention two. First, if Genesis One is an account of functional origins rather than material origins, there is no conflict between a “literal” reading of Genesis and the findings of evolutionary science. (Walton argues that the real fight between the creation (and ID) camp and the evolution camp is over teleology, and he makes some interesting prescriptions for public scientific education.) Second, if the cosmos is God’s temple (or divine resting place) then there are no such things as natural resources—there are only sacred resources, and we must adjust our ecology accordingly.

Walton’s book offers valuable insight into the Genesis One debate, and ought to be carefully examined by those on all sides. There is much more in the book that is worthy of discussion, and it is accessible enough to encourage conversation between all interested parties.

Questions: Does Walton present a reading of Genesis One that allows Christians to remain theologically and exegetically faithful while being scientifically relevant? Do you find the argument of functional ontology convincing? How does this interpretation change the game on cosmic origins?

What’s so unique about the Bible? After all, there are plenty of other ancient texts that claim to describe the creation of the world, the role that humans play in it, and the nature of the gods. And we know, of course, that these writings are nothing more than myths. Isn’t the Bible just like these ancient myths—ahistorical religious fiction, albeit with a monotheistic rather than polytheistic bent? Just how similar or different is the Bible to its ancient counterparts? And, the question that really lies behind it all, can we trust that the Bible is telling us the truth about the world?

These are the questions that John Oswalt, research professor of Old Testament at Wesley Biblical Seminary, sets out to answer in his book, The Bible Among the Myths. More specifically, Oswalt is dealing only with the Old Testament and its counterparts from the ancient Near East, including Egyptian, Babylonian, and Canaanite cultures. The book itself is divided into two parts: Part one, the more illuminating and thought-provoking half, is called “The Bible and Myth”, and part two is called “The Bible and History”.

Oswalt claims that there has been a shift in scholarly opinion from understanding the Bible historically, in contrast to the texts of Israel’s neighbors, to viewing it as myth, quite akin to those texts. This has happened, he says, because scholars have come to view the similarities between the Bible and, for example, the Enuma Elish as essential and the differences as accidental. (13) In other words, the Bible is best defined by the ways in which it is the same as other ancient texts, not by the ways in which it is different.

That, Oswalt argues, is ridiculous. While the Bible may be similar to other ancient texts in some ways (primarily in matters of convention, and mostly superficial), it presents a fundamentally new way of looking at the world, and therefore it cannot fit into the category of myth.

Myth, and particularly the myths of the ancient cultures surrounding Israel, is centrally characterized by Continuity. “Continuity is a philosophical principle that asserts that all things are continuous with each other. Thus I am one with the tree, not merely symbolically or spiritually, but actually. …This means that the divine is materially as well as spiritually identical with the psycho-socio-physical universe that we know.” (43) In the mythology that undergirds the religion (and therefore the entire life) of ancient cultures, there is no distinction between humanity, the natural world, and the divine realm. Nor is there a distinction between symbol and reality: “The symbol is the reality. …All things that exist are physically and spiritually part of one another.” (49)

The implications of this way of looking at the world are: 1) Reality only relates to the present; 2) Actualization of timeless reality; 3) Blurring of source and manifestation; 4) Importance of nature symbolism; 5) Significance of magic; 6) Obsession with fertility and potency; and 7) Denial of boundaries. (50-56) The most interesting way in which these implications manifest themselves (and what was likely the most tempting aspect of Canaanite religion to Israel) is in ritual prostitution. “Plant and animal life are the result of divine copulation, for all things in this world that we know have their origins in sexual behavior. Therefore, the thing to do [to make it rain] is to get the god [of heaven] and goddess [of earth] to have sexual relations. …How do we do that? …We do it for them through ritual enactment. As the worshiper and the priestess have sex together under the appropriate ritual circumstances, the god and goddess do so as well and the rhythms of nature are maintained.” (51) Because everything is continuous, the sexual act committed at the temple is the sexual act committed between the god of heaven and the goddess of the earth. Clearly, this is not the biblical worldview.

What makes the Bible different from these myths? Oswalt claims that the Bible is consistently characterized by the following concepts: 1) Monotheism; 2) Iconoclasm; 3) First principle is Spirit; 4) Absence of conflict in the creation process; 5) A high view of humanity; 6) The reliability of God; 7) God is supra-sexual; 8) Sex is desacralized; 9) Prohibition of magic; 10) Ethical obedience as a religious response; and 11) The importance of human-historical activity. (64-80) Each of these is consistently prescribed in the Bible as the standard of Israelite experience, and each of them lie in stark contrast to the prescriptions of myth. In other words, the religion of the Bible could not be any more different from the religions of the myths.

The reason for this is that the Bible does not present a worldview of Continuity, but rather of Transcendence. “For the Bible, God is not the cosmos, and the cosmos is not God. God is radically other than his creation. This thought undergirds everything the Bible says about reality.” (81) God is not a part of creation, nor are there any other gods alongside him in some mythical pantheon. Therefore, he cannot be manipulated or coerced to act through any ritual practice, and specifically through ritual prostitution.

Continuity is the starting point of myth, but Transcendence is the foundation of Biblical thought. While the Bible may share some superficial similarities with the myths, it is distinctive in that it offers a completely new way of looking at the world and relating to its creator.

The Bible Among the Myths is an excellent resource for anyone interested in exploring ancient literature and how the Old Testament relates to the world in which it was written. Oswalt offers a clear, thoughtful picture of how the Bible is distinct from the myths of Israel’s neighbors. While this book is certainly useful for exegesis and biblical studies, I also think it has great value in the arena of apologetics because it shows how remarkable the Scriptures truly are.

Questions: How do you see the worldview of Continuity making a comeback today? Is there any way that the church has mixed Continuity into its teachings or practices? What are the implications of Transcendence, specifically in relation to the Incarnation?

Last weekend I was scheduled to preach a sermon on marriage from Mark 10. I was really looking forward to it, but God had other plans for the message that night, so the marriage sermon had to be scrapped. I promised to post some of the excerpts here on the blog.

My blog has taken a back seat lately. Working a fulltime job in the marketplace has limited the amount of things I can do, and, unfortunately, I’ve had to all but eliminate two things that have been very profitable for me in the past: reading and blogging. (And don’t even get me started on blogging about reading!) I’m hoping that this will be a temporary adjustment period, and that I’ll find the time to read and blog again soon.

I suppose that’s enough of a pity party. Here is some of what I was going to say about marriage last week at Ember.

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Marriage is a difficult subject for many. Divorce is even harder. Many of you may be children of divorce. You’ve watched your parents turn on each other. It’s often been said that what kids need most is not to know that their parents love them, but that their parents love each other. Divorce destroys that love foundation. So, before we look into our passage for tonight, I want to briefly lay a theological foundation of a love that never gives up, burns out, or fades away.

Because of what we see in Jesus, we can know these things: God always keeps his promises; God always follows through on his commitments; There is perfect, eternal, infinite love between the three members of the Trinity; We are invited to fully participate in the divine love of the Trinity. The Trinity will never get divorced. The love of God that exists within God is infinitely strong. It can never be broken because God is perfectly selfless, humble, and unstained by any sin.

In a world of dissipating love, it’s a comfort to know that there is a love that is stronger than life, that sustains creation, and that resides within the heart of the One that made all that exists. Our new family–the family of God–is built on a foundation of self-giving love that does not change over time.

•••••

I’ll share more on this tomorrow. There’s a much longer section that I hope will be worth reading, but I wanted to put this theological foundation up today. I hope this provides some perspective on what love is and where we can find the love that never lets us down.

About a year ago, Breena and I decided to step out in faith and move forward with planting Ember Church. Though we were surrounded with a great group of friends who were also committed to the task, we knew that I needed to find a full-time job to support my family while we planted. This is called bivocational ministry, and while most church planters and pastors don’t go this route, there are some of us who choose to minister the way Paul did. (Paul was a tentmaker and a leather worker, trades he held while establishing churches in the various cities to which God led him.)

Very early on in this process I had a serious conversation with God. It went something like this: “God, if you want me to plant Ember Church, you’ve got to get me a job. In this economy, and with my past history of job searching, it’s truly going to take a miracle for me to get a job. So I need you to move for me.” I didn’t sense God telling me anything in that moment, though the first Ember sermon ever proclaimed this truth: God is with those he calls. I believed that God would come through for me, for my family, and for this church.

Months went by with no progress on the job front. The church started on schedule, but still no job. Then Bexley was born, but still no job. Thanksgiving. Christmas. I was beginning to doubt that God was with me. I was beginning to doubt that he would come through with a job.

Sometime during the holidays I had pressed through my period of doubt and began to trust God again. I was more confident than ever that he would come through with a job, and very soon. Then came the new year, and companies started posting job openings again. There was one job posting that caught my attention for it’s unorthodox language, and I determined to give this one a little extra attention. I wrote the most audacious cover letter you’ve ever seen. My opening line read like this: “You can stop your search now, because I’m your guy.” I got a call from them the same day! After a year of submitting applications and resumes with no response, I got called back the same day.

I waited and waited to find out if I would get that first interview. On Tuesday of the following week I received an email from the HR department asking if I was still interested in the job, and whether I had gotten the email the previous Friday to set up a phone interview. “What email,” I shouted! “I never got an email!” Some technical glitch had occurred, and I never received it. The most important email of my life, and it got tied up in cyberspace. What is this, 1997?

Of course I responded right away, and had a great interview the next day. Then the waiting really began. Would I get the second interview? Would I make into the next round? Several days passed before I heard anything, but I finally got the good news. They were bringing me in for a face-to-face interview!

I called my parents and they offered to buy me a suit. (How am I this old and still don’t own a suit?) I gladly took them up on the offer, and had a really good interview. That was Friday, and they were interviewing two more candidates on Monday. So, once again, I waited. But I had been waiting for about a year for God to come through for me, so a few more days wasn’t going to be too bad.

It must have been Wednesday when I got the next call. They wanted me to come back for a third interview! This was unprecedented, for me. Not that I’ve never gotten a job anywhere, but that I’ve ever participated in this many rounds of interviews. This time, I interviewed with the team members with whom I might be working, and then with mentors within the company. Both of these interviews were to determine if I fit with the team and the culture of the company. I thought both interviews went really well, and had a strong sense that, by this point, there weren’t any other candidates being interviewed. When I got home, I told Breena, “I think I’m going to get this job.”

That was Friday, so we had another weekend of waiting. Monday came and went, so I decided to call the manager on Tuesday. When I got through to him, he dropped this bomb on me, “I was just getting ready to make you a verbal offer. Can I call you back in an hour with the details?” BAM! And like that, I had a job. A great job. At the best place to work in central Ohio.

God came through. It was his time (not mine), but he did it. He came through for me, my family, and Ember Church. I’ve only been at work for a couple days now, but I already love it. I’m excited to go there. I’m excited to get started on video production. I believe in the company and what they’re doing. I believe in the culture they’re trying to create. I simply can’t imagine how things could have turned out better for me, and I am very grateful to God for his faithfulness. I pray that he will come through for you as he has come through for me.