Children's Worship (James Montgomery Boice)

I have posted this to stir a healthy “debate” on the subject of children in worship in our Churches. Whether you agree with Boice or not, the fact is his brief article is worth our attention for no other reason than that most churches I have been to and have been a part of much prefer the children not only “not to be heard” but also “not to be seen”. Thus, they are sent off either to Sunday School or a separate “Children’s Worship” when the preaching begins. I have often said that if children are not taught from birth to learn to worship together with the adults, we should not be surprised if they should find worship such a “boring” exercise when they become teenagers. Why? For they have not been taught and, therefore, are not used to the routine of listening to a sermon. I also believe with Boice that we adults underestimate the ability of children to be a part of our normal worship service. I can testify from personal experience that they can absorb more than we assume. I shall never forget an occasion when after having preached in a Church in the USA, a young girl of eight approached me after the service and asked if I had my sermons taped in Malaysia. She thought that if I did, she would like to have me send her some! Another young lady of eleven, as I was preaching through Romans, told me she could understand about 50 percent of my sermons. Mind you, there were adults then who complained that the sermons were too difficult! Does that not say something about the adults in many of our Churches? Surely our Lord knew what He was praying when He said in Matthew 11:25-26, “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure.” And are we not told that He was “indignant” when His disciples tried to prevent folks from bringing “little children” to Him (Mark 10:13-16)? And did He not warn His disciples that “if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea” (Matthew 18:6)? Perhaps it is time we adults begin to realize how much we can learn from little children and from having them with us in worship and from observing their simple faith and trust in Christ during worship. James Montgomery Boice was pastor of the renowned Tenth Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia and has authored many books, notably his sermons on Genesis, the Gospel of Matthew, the Gospel of John, the Sermon on the Mount, and the Minor Prophets, and Foundations of the Christian Faith (a series of studies on Christian doctrines modelled after John Calvin's Institutes of the Christian Religion).

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I don’t do children’s sermons. I know they are popular with parents and that they are a staple in the Sunday services of most evangelical churches. But I don't like them, and I don't do them. Let me explain why.

My first reason is that children’s sermons distract people from the worship of God. They are meant to involve children in the worship service by offering something appropriate to their age. But the effect, whether intentional or not, is to focus the attention of the adults on the children, and that is not what we should be coming to church to do. We should be focusing on God. I find that when children are invited forward to hear some cute word from the minister, the adults perk up and begin to pay close attention to the children. They are amused. They laugh. It is a bright spot in the service. But it is not worship. Children’s sermons sidetrack worship even if it has been going on previously, which often it has not. In practice children’s sermons come dangerously close to idolatry since they invite worship of the fruit of our loins rather than the Lord.

My second reason is that children’s sermons are part of what I see as an overall bad direction in which services have been moving. They are a part of what we call “dumbing down” in other disciplines. Let me put it this way. The goal we should have with our children is to bring them up to the level of the adults; that is, to enable them to begin to function on an adult level in their relationships to God. But what we have succeeded in doing instead is to bring the adults down to the level of the children. In many churches the sermon is hardly suited to any genuinely adult mind, the praise choruses would fit better at a high school rally than in the worship of the Bible’s God, and the children’s sermons probably speak as much to adult immaturity as to the children. In fact, the children’s sermons are usually geared to the smallest children, and the older children are ignored.

The defense of this bad practice is probably that children cannot follow what goes on in church. But that is not true. They can. And even if they cannot follow what goes on at first, our task is to teach them so they both can and will. And why not? It does not require much more time to teach children to participate in the worship service than it does to prepare some of the children’s sermons I have heard.

We have thought about this challenge at Tenth Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia and have developed a few ideas that we find work pretty well.

First, we keep the children in church from a much younger age than we used to do. We still take the very little ones out for the parents’ sake as much as for theirs. We don’t want excessive distractions for anyone. But we keep the children in church from the second grade up. They can read at this age as well as participate, and we think it is good for our families to be worshiping together.

Second, we prepare a children’s bulletin which the children pick up when the adults receive theirs. The children’s bulletin contains the text of such service items as the Apostles’ Creed, and there are side bars and added texts with arrows to explain what various words or phrases occurring in the service mean. The third page contains a one paragraph summary of the sermon with several questions about it for the older children and a “word alert” section for those who are younger. “Word alert” lists words they can listen for.

Third, both the organist and I come to the opening exercises of the Sunday School to talk about the sermon and the hymns. I explain what I am going to be talking about and what the children should look for. I even ask them to pray that people who are not Christians may hear what God has to say and be converted. The organist tells about the hymns we will sing, who wrote them, and why we sing them as we do.

By the way, we teach the children hymns instead of choruses, since they learn them easily at this age. We have them memorize a children’s catechism and large blocks of Scripture too, believing that it is a serious mistake to waste precious Sunday School time with mere games or trivia.

I would like to get pastors and other church leaders to rethink what we are doing with our children. There is more than one way of causing these little ones to stumble.

Copyright-James Montgomery Boice

The Theology of Unclean Food (Gordon J Wenham)

One aspect of the Old Testament which has constantly eluded ordinary Christians is the "food laws" spelled out especially in Leviticus and Deuteronomy. For Christians in the west, these laws may seem not only archaic but unnecessary. For those of us who have had contact with Jews or Muslims, we recognise that "food laws" are not only mandatory; in a profound sense, they define a very important tenet of their theology and, indeed, they form the "warp-and-woof" of daily living. In this article, Gordon Wenham offers much needed help for those of us who wish to understand the food laws in the Old Testament. I readily confess to a particular liking for Wenham as his writings have always left me with a clear "Christian" understanding of the Old Testament. He has his feet firmly planted on the necessity of understand the Old Testament within its own context, but without losing the necessary perspective offered by the fuller and more complete revelation offered by Christ and the apostles. This article is a wonderful example of what Wenham often does so well in that respect. It was originally published as Gordon J. Wenham, “The Theology of Unclean Food,” Evangelical Quarterly 53.1 (January/March 1981): 6-15.

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The problem of unclean foods was at the heart of the first great controversy in the early church (Acts 15). Did Gentile believers have to be circumcised and keep the laws of Moses about food? The conclusions of the council of Jerusalem are recorded in Acts, but there is little explanation of the theological reasoning behind the decisions. Commentators therefore tend to regard the decree (Acts 15:19-20) as little more than a pragmatic compromise between Judaizers and Hellenists.1

Since the theological principles determining the division of animals into clean and unclean are so obscure in the OT, it is not surprising that NT scholars have only been able to discern pragmatic reasons for the abolition of the distinction. Recent discussion of the OT material has at last brought some semblance of order into the apparent chaos of the food laws in Leviticus 11 and Deuteronomy 14. These insights, it will be suggested, may also provide a clue to the thinking of the primitive church on these controversial issues.

I. TRADITIONAL EXPLANATIONS OF THE FOOD LAWS

1. Hygiene
Probably the most popular explanation of the food laws is hygiene. The unclean animals were recognized by the ancients as a danger to health, and were therefore pronounced unclean. This explanation is a very old one, but enjoyed its greatest vogue at the beginning of this century, with the great advances in medical knowledge. Moses was hailed as anticipating the findings of modern science. It still has its advocates today. R. E. Clements writes: “What we have here is a simple and comprehensive guidebook to food and personal hygiene.”2

Despite its inherent attractiveness the hygienic explanation faces four grave difficulties.3 First, other peoples have held and hold certain animals to be unclean, yet their demarcations seldom coincide with the biblical. Second, it is far from clear that all unclean animals mentioned in Leviticus are harmful to health. For example, the Arabs have long enjoyed the camel and its products. As for pork, if it is supposed that ancient Israel had discovered the risks in eating it, they could also have learnt that these risks could be avoided by cooking it thoroughly. Third, though motive clauses justifying particular rules are frequent in biblical law, there is no appeal to health in connection with the food rules. Yet this would surely have constituted an excellent reason for keeping them had it been recognized. Instead the motive clauses explain that certain animals may not be eaten, because of the way they travel or their eating habits (Lev. 11:3-12, 20-23, 26-31, etc.). Finally, if hygiene was the motive underlying the OT regulations, why did the early church allow their abolition in the first century AD? What was harmful when Leviticus 11 was drafted, would have been just as dangerous in the days of the early church.

2. Religious Associations
The second kind of explanation of the food laws is that the unclean animals were closely associated with non-Israelite religion.4 They were either used in sacrifice or the deities were supposed to manifest themselves in animal form. Israel was called to be the holy people of God and had therefore to disassociate itself from these pagan practices. For example, Isa. 65:4 speaks of people “who sit in tombs... who eat swine’s flesh”. And at various sites collections of pig bones have been found, which lends support to the notion that the pig was eaten in Canaanite rituals.5 Other animals banned as unclean by Leviticus were worshipped by the Egyptians.

This explanation of the distinction between clean and unclean animals has the merit of noting the biblical writers’ insistence that these regulations are designed to further the ideal of creating a holy nation (Lev. 11:44-5; Deut. 14:2). But its major weakness is that it can only explain a few of the regulations. In general, Israel used much the same animals for sacrifice as her neighbours. If use in contemporary religions were ground for making animals unclean, the bull should have been an abomination in Israel in view of its role in Canaanite and Egyptian culture. Yet in Israel the bull was the best and most valued of the sacrificial animals.

3. Carnivores
A third view is that the unclean animals are the carnivorous animals and the carrion-eating birds.6 This view finds support from the Mishnah,7 which suggests that the birds listed in Lev. 11:13-19 and Deut. 14:12-18 are birds of prey. The identification of some of these birds is still a matter of some doubt. But most commentators accept the Mishnah as basis for more precise identification. It is attractive to try and extend this logic to cover other branches of the animal kingdom. Obviously cloven-hoofed ruminants do not live on meat, whereas animals with paws (Lev. 11:27) such as cats and dogs are carnivorous.

This theory has greater merits than the first two, in that it covers more of the cases listed than they do. But it is noteworthy that in the lists of unclean animals it is never mentioned that they eat meat. Nor can some of the distinctions be explained on these grounds. Why should goats be clean, but pigs not? Why should locusts be thought edible, but no other insects? What is the thinking behind the division among water creatures?

Though inadequate as a total explanation of the uncleanness rules, G. R. Driver has drawn attention to an important aspect of biblical theology: the connection between man and the animal kingdom. Some of the animals are unclean because they do what is forbidden to man: they eat flesh with blood in it (Gen. 9:4-5; cf. Lev. 11:39). In the principle that the divisions among the animals and the way in which they behave mirror, at least to some extent, mankind’s divisions and behaviour, M. Douglas8 has found the key to these laws.

4. Symbolic Interpretations
The idea that different animals somehow symbolize men and their behaviour was a commonplace among older commentators. However, there is little agreement about what was symbolized. For example, one commentator9 suggests that chewing the cud makes an animal clean, because it reminded men to meditate on the law. Another10 suggested that the sheep is clean because it reminded the ancient Israelite that the LORD was his shepherd. But the dirty habits of the pig speak of the “filth of iniquity”. Other commentators11 have supposed that some animals are accounted unclean because of their associations with death or sin. This approach to the problem is intriguing and even entertaining, but it is little better than intuitive guesswork. The symbolism discovered depends largely on the commentator’s imagination, and there is no attempt to prove that the alleged symbolism really underlies the legal definitions. Unless greater discipline can be introduced into symbolist interpretation, it will always be more liable to represent the whims of the commentator than the purpose of the law.

II. AN ANTHROPOLOGICAL APPROACH

The most recent attempt to interpret these laws is indeed symbolist, but it is based on a wideranging and empirical approach to the laws of Leviticus. In her book Purity and Danger Mary Douglas12 drew attention to the fact that in Leviticus holiness is not merely defined negatively as separation from evil, but positively as purity and wholeness and integrity. Holiness means purity in both the physical and moral sphere. Mixtures are abominated, whether they are mixed crops, mixed materials or mixed marriages (Lev. 18:23; 19:19; Deut. 7:3-6; 22:9-11). Holiness also means physical wholeness. The priests must not cut themselves, but “shall be holy to their God” (Lev. 21:5-6). They must. be physically unblemished; those who are lame, blind, or in any way deformed, may not officiate as priests (Lev. 21:5-6). Similar, though less stringent, regulations apply to laymen (Deut. 23:1-2―Heb. 2-3). Holiness also concerns the moral sphere. Wholeness, or integrity, is again of fundamental importance. Honesty and consistency in all one’s dealings are emphasized. Injunctions to this effect are found alongside those about purity and wholeness in Leviticus 19.

Douglas argues that the same insistence on wholeness underlies the uncleanness laws in Lev. 11/Deut. 14. The animal world is divided into three spheres: those that fly in the air, those that walk on the land, and those that swim in the seas (cf. Gen. 1:20-30). Each sphere has a particular mode of motion associated with it. Birds have two wings to fly with, and two feet for walking: fish have fins and scales to swim with; land animals have hooves to run with.

The clean animals are those that conform to these standard pure types. Those creatures which in some way transgress the boundaries are unclean. Thus fish without fins and scales are unclean (Lev. 11:10; Deut. 14:10). Insects which fly but which have many legs are unclean, whereas locusts which have wings and only two hopping legs are clean (Lev. 11:20-23). Animals with an indeterminate form of motion, i.e., which “swarm”, are unclean (Lev. 11:41-44). “Holiness requires that individuals shall conform to the class to which they belong.”13 In so far as some animals do not conform, they are unclean.

This analysis explains the main divisions between clean and unclean, but it does not explain why pigs are unclean, but sheep and goats are reckoned to be clean. Douglas thinks a rationale for this differentiation may be discerned if the social background to the laws is borne in mind. Sheep and goats would have been the standard meat of pastoralists, so it was natural for them to be regarded as clean. But pigs and camels did not conform exactly to the norms of behaviour defined by sheep and goats and were therefore unclean. They transgress the boundaries of clean animals in not chewing the cud or in lacking cloven feet. In other words, there is a parallel between the holiness looked for in man and the cleanness of animals: man must conform to the norms of moral and physical perfection, and animals must conform to the standards of the animal group to which they belong.14

But this is far from establishing a close tie-up between the animal and human world. In an article published in 1972, Douglas attempted this.15 In a series of diagrams she demonstrates that each sphere of the animal world is structured in a very similar fashion to the human world. The divisions between different groups of animals parallel the divisions between different human groups. There is such a degree of isomorphism between these different spheres that it is likely that, in the Israelite mind at least, a connection was seen between one sphere and the other. The patterns repeat so clearly that someone living in that culture would probably have sensed the analogy and appreciated the symbolism.

Various texts in the OT explicitly express the notion that there is a close relationship between man and the animals. According to Gen. 1:29-30 man and the animals were both expected to be vegetarian. In 2:18-20 the animals were formed as man’s companions. According to the decalogue, domestic animals were expected to keep the sabbath along with their masters (Exod. 20:10; Deut. 5:14). If Israel kept the covenant law, both man and beast were to be blessed with offspring (Deut. 28:4); but if the nation proved faithless, both children and animals were to be destroyed (Lev. 26:22; Deut. 28:18, 50-57).

Very striking are the close analogies between the role of the first-born among men and the first-born among animals. Both are dedicated to God (Exod. 13:2; 22:29-30 (Heb. 28-29); 34:19). Both have to be redeemed (Exod. 13:13, 15; 34:20). The first-born of non-sacrificial animals like asses must be redeemed by sacrificial animals, such as lambs (Exod. 13:13). Ordinary first-born Israelites are redeemed by Levites (Num. 8:16-18). Another point of similarity is that no animal may be offered to God in sacrifice until it is seven days old (Exod. 22:30 (Heb. 29); Lev. 22:27), which parallels the rule that circumcision is not to be performed until the eighth day after birth (Gen. 17:12; Lev. 12:3). Finally, it may be noted that only perfect unblemished animals may be offered in sacrifice (Lev. 1-4); so too only unblemished priests may officiate in worship (Lev. 21:17-21; cf. 22:19-25).

These examples appear to substantiate Douglas’s contention that this symbolism was consciously felt in ancient Israel, that there was a system underlying the uncleanness regulations. They expressed an understanding of holiness, and of Israel’s special status as the holy people of God. The division into clean (edible) foods and unclean (inedible) foods corresponded to the division between holy Israel and the Gentile world. Among those animals that were clean there were a few types that could be offered in sacrifice. Similarly there was a group of men within Israel who could offer sacrifice, the priests. Through this system of symbolic laws Israelites were reminded at every meal of their redemption to be God’s people. Their diet was limited to certain meats in imitation of their God, who had restricted his choice among the nations to Israel. It served, too, to bring to mind Israel’s responsibilities to be a holy nation. As they distinguished between clean and unclean foods, they were reminded that holiness was more than a matter of meat and drink but a way of life characterized by purity and integrity.

III. THE NEW TESTAMENT AND THE FOOD LAWS

In the OT the food laws symbolized and embodied Israel’s status as a covenant people. No doubt their consciousness of this symbolism waxed and waned in different periods, but during the exile and afterwards the ordinary Israelite must have been constantly reminded of his position as a stranger among the nations by these food laws, which made it difficult for him to eat with Gentile neighbours. It is therefore not surprising that in the NT era there was such controversy about the abolition of these rules. Circumcision was a private matter, but the food laws made one’s Jewish faith a public affair. Observance of the food laws was one of the outward marks of a practising Jew, and this in turn enhanced Jewish attachment to them as a reminder of their special status.

With Christianity OT Judaism was universalized to embrace all mankind. It is of a piece with this transformation that the food laws were dropped by the Christian church. With the incorporation of the Gentiles into the church, Israel was no longer regarded as the unique covenant people (Gal. 3:6-29; Eph. 2:11-16). To drop the laws that symbolized the peculiar status of Israel was not merely convenient if Gentiles were to be converted, it was also a step of theological logic. If the wall of partition between Jews and Gentiles was broken down, the distinction between clean and unclean food should also have been abolished. But was this theological logic apparent to the NT writers, or did the early church discard the food laws merely for pragmatic reasons to facilitate the conversion of the Gentiles? Were the early Christians really conscious of the symbolism of the levitical law? There are indications that they were.

1. The Synoptic Gospels
In the synoptic gospels one section deals with the question of unclean foods (Matt. 15:1-20/Mark 7:1-23). Jesus attacks the Pharisees for being so punctilious about washing their hands and vessels before meals while neglecting the more important aspects of the law. He insists that what a man eats does not defile him, but only what comes out of him; evil thoughts, murder, etc. In the Matthaean version this is merely a criticism of the Pharisaic concern with ritual washing. But Mark adds as comment in 7:19: “Thus he declared all meats clean”. In other words, if the principle just enunciated by Jesus is taken to its logical conclusion, it not only undermines the Pharisaic concern with clean hands but also the Levitical distinction between clean and unclean animals. But it is noteworthy that the evangelist does not explicitly attribute this conclusion to Jesus. This is of a piece with the synoptic writers’ presentation of Jesus’ mission as a mission to the Jews rather than to the Gentiles. If there was felt to be a connection between the inclusion of the Gentiles in the church and the end of the distinction of foods, we could expect neither or both to figure in the teaching of Jesus, but not one without the other. It seems that neither figures at least at all prominently in his preaching.

Nevertheless it is noteworthy that in both Matthew and Mark the section on uncleanness is immediately followed by the episode of the Syro-Phoenician woman. Jesus reluctantly heals the Greek woman’s daughter, though protesting that he was really sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. This suggests that at least in the mind of the evangelists there was a link between Jesus’ remarks on uncleanness and the extension of divine grace to the Gentiles.

2. John
John’s gospel seems to allude to the connection between unclean foods and the Gentiles. In this case, however, Jesus’ attitude to the question of uncleanness is implicit in his actions rather than in his words. He asks a drink of a Samaritan woman, which surprised her, for “Jews and Samaritans... do not use vessels in common” (John 4:9 NEB). By his request Jesus demonstrated his indifference to the uncleanness rules that were accepted by stricter Jews. The story goes on to tell how many Samaritans believed on Jesus. This tale seems to hint that in Christ both the laws on uncleanness and the dispute between Jews and Samaritans are superseded.

3. Acts
Acts 10 explicitly connects the incorporation of the Gentiles with the abolition of the food laws. In his vision Peter sees “all kinds of animals and reptiles and birds of the air” (v.12). He is told to “rise, kill and eat” (v.13). But he refuses saying “ ‘No, Lord; for I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean.’ And the voice came to him again a second time, ‘What God has cleansed, you must not call common’ ” (vv.14-15).

Mystified by the dream, he is told by the Spirit to go to the house of Cornelius (vv.19-20). Once there he realizes the significance of the vision: “You yourselves know how unlawful it is for a Jew to associate with or to visit any one of another nation; but God has shown me that I should not call any man common or unclean” (v.28). In other words the vision commanding Peter to eat unclean animals announces that God has now opened the way to intercourse between Jew and Gentile. Peter goes on to expound more fully the further theological implications of his vision. “God shows no partiality” (v.34); no longer is Israel the unique covenant people. In immediate demonstration of their new standing these Gentiles receive the Spirit like the Jews, and are then baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus (vv.44-48). Luke underlines the significance of this episode by mentioning it twice more in Acts 11 and 15. Again Peter justifies his new attitude to the Gentiles by referring to the vision of unclean animals (11:5-9; cf. 15:7-9).

Acts 15 tells how the apostles met in Jerusalem to discuss whether Gentile converts should be circumcised and keep the law of Moses; the account makes it plain that it is the food laws that are the controversial element in the law. Both unclean foods and circumcision were marks of distinction between Jew and Gentile. There were strong pragmatic reasons for not imposing circumcision and uncleanness rules on Gentile believers, and it is sometimes suggested that the decision of the council was dictated more by convenience than by theology. But as Luke presents the debate, the decision was the outcome of the Cornelius episode. For a third time we are reminded of what happened on that occasion (vv. 7-11). Then James argues that if the Gentiles are to be admitted to the church, it is logical to drop those laws which symbolized their exclusion. The only demands made of them are that they should abstain from idolatry, immorality, from eating blood and strangled animals. This last regulation was one that was traced back to Noah (Gen. 9:4). Antedating the election of Israel it could not be held to symbolize Israel’s unique status; as presented in Genesis it appears as a moral law binding on all mankind.

4. Paul
Paul discusses at some length which foods a Christian may eat (see Rom. 14; 1 Cor. 8; 10). He never suggests that any particular foods are prohibited. The OT distinctions between clean and unclean are never discussed. This is of course parallel to his attitude to the Gentiles; for him they are an integral part of the church (Rom. 11:17-19; Gal. 3:28). For Paul the only reason for abstaining from certain foods is love of one’s neighbour. In Romans 14 he has the plight of Jewish Christians in mind, who may be offended if Gentile Christians do not respect their scruples on food when they eat together. In 1 Cor. 8 love is again the motive for abstinence. But this time it is love for pagans who may be misled into supposing that there is no difference between following Christ and paganism if Christians eat food offered to idols.

SUMMARY
Running through the biblical laws on clean and unclean foods there is a coherent and consistent theology. In Leviticus the divisions within the animal kingdom express in elaborate symbolism the divisions among men, the most important of these being that between Israel and the Gentiles. The laws reminded Israel what sort of behaviour was expected of her, that she had been chosen to be holy in an unclean world. The reality behind this symbolism was reinforced in the national consciousness by its experience among the nations. With the incorporation of Gentiles on an equal footing with Jews in the Christian church, the food laws and circumcision lost their symbolic significance and were therefore dropped within the church. It would be too much to claim that every Jew in biblical times fully understood the symbolism expressed in the food laws, but it is suggested that wherever the Bible discusses unclean foods it is related to the uncleanness of the Gentiles under the old covenant.

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1 Cf. E. Haenchen, The Acts of the Apostles (Oxford: Blackwell, 1971), 449; W. Neil, The Acts of the Apostles (London: Oliphants, 1973), 174.
2 R. E. Clements, Leviticus (Broadman Bible Commentary II; London: Marshall, Morgan and Scott, 1971), 34; cf. W. F. Albright, Yahweh and the Gods of Canaan (New York: Doubleday, 1968), 177-180; G. Cansdale, Animals of Bible Lands (Exeter: Paternoster, 1970), 14.
3 F. J. Simoons, Eat Not This Flesh (Madison: University of Wisconsin, 1961), 37-42.
4 M. Noth, Leviticus (London: SCM, 1965), 92, favoured this explanation.
5 R. de Vaux, BZAW 77 (1958), 250-265.
6 G. R. Driver, “Birds in the OT”, PEQ 87 (1955), 7. J. Milgrom, “The Biblical Diet Laws as an Ethical System”, Interpretation 17 (1963), 288-301, also emphasizes the importance of avoiding blood, but thinks hesitations about idolatry were also involved.
7 Hullin 3.6.
8 See below and footnotes 12-15.
9 So Kurtz quoted by C. F. Keil, Manual of Biblical Archaeology, II (Edinburgh: Clark, 1888), 121-2.
10 A. A. Bonar, A Commentary on Leviticus (London: Banner of Truth, 1846 reprinted 1972), 214-215.
11 E.g. D. Hoffmann, Das Buch Leviticus (Berlin: Poppelauer, 1905), 315-322.
12 M. Douglas, Purity and Danger (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1966), 41-57.
13 Douglas, Purity, 53.
14 Douglas, Purity, 54-5.
15 “Deciphering a Meal”, Daedalus 101 (1972), 61-81, reprinted in Natural Symbols (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1975), 249-275.

© 1981 Gordon J. Wenham

The Bible On The Problem Of Evil (John Frame)

I expect all of us, at some point in our lives, have struggled with the problem of evil. Most would have read material ranging from "simplistic" treatments to highly complicated philosophical ones, and all of them claiming to present the Scriptural position on the subject. Having addressed the problem occasionally I, for one, continue to feel like Job on the subject when he declared almost at the end of his suffering, "Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know." However, the fact that we cannot plunge the depths of this complex subject does not mean we should ignore it. Rather, we should try our level best to shed more light on it as we grow in our understanding as believers. John Frame has written a thoughtful and sensitive paper on the subject. He also discusses the subject within the broad context of God's salvific purpose achieved through Christ, an approach which I found refreshing. For without that contextual perspective all suffering would prove meaningless. The paper was first published as "The Bible On The Problem Of Evil: Insights from Romans 3:1-8, 21-26; 5:1-5; 8:28-39" in IIIM Magazine Online, Volume 1, Number 33, October 11 to October 17, 1999.

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For many today and throughout history, the problem of evil has represented the most serious objection to the Christian faith. Some very brilliant philosophers have thought that this problem conclusively refutes belief in the Christian God.

But not only professors of philosophy – ordinary people, too, often feel this problem deeply. You don’t have to be a sophisticated philosopher to doubt the reality of God when a loved one is going through terrible suffering. At such times the “problem of evil” is not so much a learned argument as it is a simple cry of the heart, “How could a loving God allow this?”

That’s it, in a nutshell. The sophisticated philosophical version of the problem states the issue, usually, with a calmer spirit and a more precise vocabulary. But the philosopher doesn’t state the question any better; and insofar as the philosopher dilutes the passion of that heart-cry, he misses something important. So we’ll leave it at the simple level. To understand, to feel the problem of evil, think of some terrible tragedy that seems to have no positive value whatsoever: the genocide of Hitler, Stalin, or Pol Pot; a child suffering terrible pain as he slowly dies of cancer; an African baby dying of starvation. Think in such cases of how you too might cry out, almost involuntarily, “How could a loving God allow this?” You see, it’s not only unbelievers who cry out that way. Believers do too. There is something universally human about that cry. It’s almost a reflex. It’s something that goes very deep.

Is there an answer to the problem of evil? Well, that depends on what you mean by “answer.” What kind of “answer” are you willing to accept? If what you want is a total explanation of where evil came from, how it arose, how it achieves God’s good purposes, well, I cannot supply that. I don’t believe that this kind of answer is available to human beings, and I don’t believe that God is under any obligation to give us such an answer.

But if what you want is encouragement, a motivation to go on trusting God despite unexplained evil, then I think I can help. If you are looking for some assurance that God is all-powerful, just, good and wise, despite many temptations to disbelieve in him, I believe such assurance is available, and would like to share that assurance with you.

That assurance comes from the Bible, God’s Word. You might be a bit surprised to hear that the Bible speaks about the problem of evil. Sometimes, I think, we act and speak as if the problem of evil were a discovery of modern man. To be sure, the Holocaust was forty years ago; indeed there are many recent evils that trouble our faith in God. Yet none of us, probably, has suffered as much as Job, or the apostle Paul, or the heroes of Hebrews 11. Certainly none of us can possibly imagine the enormity of the sufferings of Jesus Christ. And none of us, probably, has reflected on suffering as deeply as did Job, Paul, or the Lord Jesus. Yes, the Bible says a great deal about the problem of evil. Large sections of the Bible are devoted to it. In fact, one might say that the whole Bible is about the problem of evil: it is the story of how evil entered a good world, and how God gained the victory over evil in Jesus Christ.

Paul’s letter to the Romans is a summary of that biblical story. It tells us about the sin of the human race against God, how none of us has kept God’s law, and thus that we all deserve to die: “The wages of sin is death” (Rom. 6:23). None of us can earn his way to heaven by good works. But though we were without hope, God sent his own son, Jesus Christ, to live a perfect life, and then to lay down that life as our sacrifice: “God commended his love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8). Christ’s work sets us free from the dominion of sin (Rom. 6), enables us to walk in the Spirit (Rom. 8), and motivates us to live a godly life (Rom. 12-16).

Romans tells us how we can become right with God. But it also tells us how God demonstrates his own righteousness. Romans 3:25-26 tells us that God gave us his son, not only to justify us, but to justify himself, to demonstrate his own righteousness. In other words, Romans addresses the problem of evil. Over and over again, throughout the book, Paul answers people who claim that God’s way of salvation is unjust. Paul’s answers can become our answers to the problem of evil, if we will take them to heart.

God is the Lord

Look first at Romans 3:3-8. Here Paul answers two objections. The first, in verse 3, deals with the unbelief of Israel, Paul’s own nation and the people of God in the Old Testament. The problem is that God promised to save Israel, to deliver them from their enemies and to fill them with wonderful blessings. But Israel refused to believe the promise, and disobeyed God’s law. Therefore, God rejected them; he said that Israel would no longer be his people. The objection is this, verse 3: Israel’s unbelief nullifies God’s promise. God judged Israel instead of blessing them – he was unfaithful.

The objection has some plausibility to it. After all, God did promise Israel some wonderful things, but it seems like all these promises went by the board. Now there is what we might call a “direct” answer to this question, and we’ll read about it later, in verses 21-26. But the interesting thing is that in this passage Paul does not give that direct answer. Rather, he rebukes the question in very sharp language: “God unfaithful? Not at all! Let God be true, and every man a liar. As it is written, ‘So that you may be proved right in your words and prevail in your judging’” (Rom. 3:4). Paul is saying, “Look, God simply cannot be unfaithful. If you say God is unfaithful, you lie – you are the unfaithful one. God always proves true. He always prevails when he judges someone. He is Lord. Who do you think you are, anyway?”

The next verses (Rom. 3:5-8) raise another objection, and handle it the same way: if Israel’s sin brings out God’s righteousness more clearly, then God ought to be pleased with sin, not angry. He shouldn’t judge sin, because sin brings him glory. Paul could respond more directly, but again, he does not give the direct answer. Instead, he rebukes the questioner again: “Certainly not! If that were so, how could God judge the world?” Then in verse 8 he says of the objectors that “their condemnation is deserved.” These are tough words against people who question God’s righteousness. Paul is saying that we have no right to raise doubts about God’s goodness and righteousness. Why? Because God is the judge, not we; he is the authority, not we. He is the standard of righteousness.

Most of us use dictionaries as standards for the spelling of words. We would not criticize the spelling in our dictionaries. How much less do we dare to criticize the righteousness of our holy God?

This is not pleasant, but such tough talk is pretty common in Scripture. Very often, when people in Scripture raise doubts about God’s goodness, rather than explain himself, God rebukes the questioners. Think of Adam and Eve after the fall, blaming their sin on the serpent and on one another, and ultimately on God. Why did God let the serpent into the garden anyway? God doesn’t reply; rather he judges them for their unbelief and disobedience. Think of Abraham, after the angel rescued him from having to sacrifice his son Isaac on the altar. Does God explain this apparently unjust order? No. He merely commends Abraham’s obedience.

Think of poor Job, bereft of his family and wealth, his body full of sores. Job wanted an interview with God. He wanted God to explain why all these things had taken place. Well, Job got his interview, but it didn’t turn out the way he expected. God appeared to him (Job 38), and accused him of ignorant words. Then God announced that Job would not question God; God would question Job.

God asked Job questions about creation, the sea, the morning, light, snow, hail, stars, clouds, mountain goats, wild donkeys, ostriches, crocodiles. Job didn’t know the answers, and he confessed his ignorance. He laid his hand upon his mouth in shame and subjection. Who do you think you are, Job? God is the Lord of justice. How dare you ask an accounting from him!

This is hard to take. Like Job, we usually expect something else when we ask for an explanation of the problem of evil. This doesn’t even seem like an explanation. It is more like that old gag line, “‘Shut up,’ he explained.” But in this case, this is bitter medicine that we need to take. When we are faced with the problem of evil, we need to remind ourselves who we are and who God is. We are in no position to judge him, we have no right to demand an explanation from him. He is Lord. That is our first answer to the problem of evil.

God is the Savior

But there is more. God’s first intention in the Bible is to silence our doubting questions as we stand before his holiness and majesty. But thank God, Scripture does more than shut our mouths. If God only rebuked us, then we would be most miserable indeed, doomed to eternal death. That’s what Paul says about the law of God in Romans 3:19 – the law silences every mouth, making us conscious of our sin. But the law does not give us hope; it does not save us. Rebukes don’t save. We need them sometimes, but they give us no hope.

But Paul has more to say. God answers the problem of evil by saving us:

But now a righteousness from God, apart from law, has been made known, to which the Law and the Prophets testify. This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. God presented him as a sacrifice of atonement, through faith in his blood. He did this to demonstrate his justice, because in his forbearance he had left the sins committed beforehand unpunished – he did it to demonstrate his justice at the present time, so as to be just and the one who justifies the man who has faith in Jesus (Rom. 3:21-26).

This is the good news, the wonderful story of Jesus. We could not be saved through keeping the law, so God sent his Son as a sacrifice for our sin – a free gift. We receive the benefits of this salvation through faith, by trusting Jesus as our personal savior and Lord. But what God is saying here is that this gospel, this good news, demonstrates his justice.

You see, if we may put this reverently, God in the Old Testament was faced with a problem. As we have seen, he promised Israel wonderful blessings. But Israel rebelled, disobeyed. What was God to do? If he punished Israel, he would have broken his promise – no more Promised Land, no more milk and honey. If he had fulfilled his promise, if he had simply overlooked their sin, he would have been unjust. It seems as though God could have been merciful, or God could have been just, but not both. Mercy would work against justice, and justice would work against mercy. Here the problem of evil comes up in a particularly difficult form. For even if you prove that God is just, you thereby prove that he is not merciful, and vice versa. So the problem can never be resolved.

So it seems in the wisdom of men. Men never could have dreamed of a way for God to solve this problem. But God found a way. The answer is in the cross of Jesus. At the Cross there is punishment for sin, a punishment God takes on himself. And therefore, at the Cross there is also an ocean of mercy that flows over God’s people. The Cross shows that God is just, and that he is merciful.

That is Paul’s – and God’s – second answer to the problem of evil. We know that God is just, because he has demonstrated his justice in history, far beyond any possible human expectations, in the cross of Christ. Now that doesn’t answer all our questions. Every day things happen that we still question. What about the Holocaust? What about children starving? How can these come from a just God? But when such questions arise, think back to the cross of Christ. For in the cross, God displayed his mercy in a way so wonderful that none of us could have anticipated it. When you think about that, you can understand how it will be a small matter for God to demonstrate his justice in all these areas that bother us.

God doesn’t answer us by satisfying our curiosity. Instead, he answers us by giving us a powerful motivation to believe, even when our curiosity is not satisfied. Thus we walk by faith, not by sight.

God is the Spirit

But now you may say, “Well, that may be all well and good, but I just can’t bring myself to believe it. That all sounds reasonable, and I can accept it with my reason, but not with my heart.” Scripture understands that need as well. God wants to respond, not only to your reason, but also to your heart. How does he do this? By giving us a new heart. Look at chapter five, the
opening verses:

Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into the grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us (Rom. 5:1-5).

When we come to know Jesus as our savior and Lord, we become new persons. Instead of hating God, we come to love him. Instead of hating other people, we come to love them. And God also puts into our hearts a new attitude toward suffering: we become able to rejoice in sufferings, knowing that suffering produces patience, character, hope. Suffering doesn’t destroy the Christian.

Rather, it helps him to mature, to grow more godly. And I think the word “hope” is also important here. The Christian looks forward to God’s promises of something better. We trust God that the sufferings of this present world are not worthy to be compared with the glory that will be revealed in us (Rom. 8:18).

How do we get these new attitudes? By the Holy Spirit, Paul says, which God has poured into our heart. How do we grow in these attitudes, in patience, character, hope through suffering? By asking God for a richer portion of the Spirit, and then by trusting him. Reckon yourself dead to sin (Rom. 6:11) – that includes unbelief, doubt, distrust, hopelessness. The Spirit does wonderful things for our spirits. Listen to Paul in Romans 8:28-39 – listen to his complete confidence in God’s goodness, justice and love.

This is the fullest answer to the problem of evil: a Spirit-filled confidence that God’s way is right and best:

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. For those God foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son, that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those he predestined, he also called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified. What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all – how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. Who is he that condemns? Christ Jesus, who died – more than that, who was raised to life – is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or peril or sword? As it is written: For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered. No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Copyright©John Frame

The Book of Proverbs - Part 3 (F F Bruce)

Part 3 of Bruce's introduction to the book of Proverbs was originally published as F.F. Bruce, “The Wisdom Literature of the Bible: The Book of Proverbs (continued),” The Bible Student ns 23.1 (Jan. 1952): 5-8.

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‘The Scriptures principally teach’, says the Westminster Shorter Catechism, ‘what man is to believe concerning God, and what duty God requires of man.’ This is as true of the Book of Proverbs as of any other part of the Bible. We have already considered the teaching of this book with regard to God; now we turn to look at its portrayal of the whole duty of man.

This last expression, ‘the whole duty of man’, is actually a quotation from another of the Old Testament Wisdom books, Ecclesiastes, hut the sentence in which it appears—Fear God, and keep His commandments; for this is the whole duty of man’ (Eccl. 12:13)-may be said to sum up the ethical teaching of all the Wisdom literature. The fear of Jehovah is not only the beginning of wisdom (Prov. 9:10; cf. 1:7; 15:33); it is the essence of true worship. The sage, as we have seen, agrees with the prophet and the psalmist that the mere offering of material sacrifices without a right attitude of heart and a right manner of life is worse than useless.

What then has the Book of Proverbs to teach about the right attitude of heart and right manner of life? ‘Let not mercy and truth forsake thee’ (Prov. 3:3) is an admonition which brings together two attributes which found their perfect manifestation in our Lord: ‘grace and truth came by Jesus Christ’ (John 1:17). Again:

Mercy and truth preserve the king:
And his throne is upholden by mercy (Prov. 20:28)

Had Shakespeare these words in his mind when he wrote concerning the quality of mercy?

‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown...
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings.

So mercy, not vengeance, should be shown to one’s enemy:

‘If thine enemy be hungry, give him bread to eat;
And if he be thirsty, give him water to drink:
For thou shalt heap coals of fire upon his head,
And the Lord shall reward thee’ (Prov. 25:21 f.).

It is noteworthy that, when Paul quotes these words in Rom. 12:20, he omits the fourth line of the quatrain.

But mercy is not enjoined at the expense of justice: ‘it is a joy to the righteous man to do judgment’ (21:15); the just man’s memory is blessed (10:7); his tongue is as choice silver (10:20); his mouth is as a fountain of life and brings forth wisdom (10:11, 31); his path - ‘is as the shining light That shineth more and more unto the perfect day’ (4:18).

‘Love cover all transgressions’ (10:12) is a sentiment that is echoed in the New Testament (1 Cor. 13:7; 5:20; 1 Pet. 4:8); a similar thought appears in Prov. 17:9, ‘He that covereth a transgression seeketh love.’

Paul urges his readers not to he slothful in business (Rom. 12:11); and the Book of Proverbs anticipates him a number of warnings against sloth and exhortations to diligence. The sluggard is advised to learn a lesson in industry from the ant (6:6 ff.), and a similar passage later in the book draws a moral from the sorry picture presented by the sluggard’s field and vineyard (24:30 ff.). But contrariwise:

Seest thou a man diligent in his business?
He shall stand before kings;
He shall not stand before mean men (22:29).

And a number of other passages might be cited, emphasizing the blessings of diligence and industry. Self-control, moderation, and humility are urged, as against all forms of intemperance, excess and pride. Here are a few samples:

He that is slow to anger is of great understanding:
But he that is hasty of spirit exalteth folly (14:29).

Before destruction the heart of man is haughty,
And before honour goeth humility (18:12).

Better is a dry morsel and quietness therewith,
Than an house full of feasting and strife (17:1).

The last example reminds us that the sage has no great opinion of the value of wealth.

Weary not thyself to be rich...
For riches certainly make themselves wings,
Like an eagle that flieth toward heaven (23:4 f.)

Contentment may be enjoyed with but a small portion of this world’s goods:

Better is little with fear of the Lord,
Than great treasure and trouble therewith.
Better is a dinner of herbs where love is,
Than a stalled ox and hatred therewith (15:16 f.).

Over against the various virtues which are thus inculcated, frequent warnings are given against a number of vices—revenge, falsehood, oppression, hatred, idleness, drunkenness, unchastity, bad temper, covetousness and envy. It is interesting, indeed, to compare the practical teaching of Proverbs rather minutely with the ethical parts of the New Testament, and to note how far in this respect the New Testament dots the i’s and crosses the t’s of the Wisdom literature.

The part played by women in the Book of Proverbs is also worthy of note. High praise is given to the ‘virtuous woman’ (or ‘woman of worth’), not only in the alphabetic acrostic which rehearses her accomplishments in 31:10-31, hut in a number of sayings scattered throughout the hook. It is evident that monogamy is contemplated throughout as the regular married relationship (cf. 5:18 f.), whatever deviations might be permitted by the law for the hardness of men’s hearts.

Whoso findeth a wife finder a good thing,
And obtaineth favour of the Lord (18:22) –

… provided, of course, that she be a good wife. There is another kind of wife, whose shortcomings are denounced in forthright language:

A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband:
But she that make ashamed is as rottenness in his bones (12:4).

By contrast with the woman of worth, the sage utters stern warnings against the foolish woman, the brawling and ill-tempered woman, and above all the ‘strange woman’ whose ‘house is the way to Sheol’ (7:27).

In all these moral precepts it is presumed that men and women are free agents, responsible for the way in which they exercise the power of choice. Yet there is no suggestion that it is possible to lead a moral life without having any regard to religious considerations. Disregard of God leads to moral ruin (cf. 22:14), but ‘by the fear of the Lord men depart from evil’ (16:6). Divine grace and guidance keep a man in the right way:

Trust in the Lord with all thine heart,
And lean not upon thine own understanding:
In all thy ways acknowledge Him,
And He shall direct thy paths (3:5 f.).

These words may be said to put in a nutshell the prime lesson of Proverbs.

Little is said about divine judgment, but it is made plain that men are answerable to God for the conduct of their lives, and that the last word rests with Him.

Every way of a man is right in his own eyes:
But the Lord weigheth the hearts (21:2; cf. 17:3).

But ample room is left for repentance and forgiveness: ‘by mercy and truth iniquity is purged’ (16:6).

He that covereth his transgressions shall not prosper:
But whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall obtain mercy (28:13).

Since God is a righteous God, the universe which He controls is a moral universe, marked by retribution for evil and reward for virtue, but the retribution and reward alike generally to be found in this life. ‘Length of days, ... rich, and honour’ are held out by Wisdom as a prize for following her paths. This indicates for the Book of Proverbs a date when righteousness was on the throne, and rulers were not a terror to the good work, but to the evil. A day was to come later in history when persistence in keeping the commandments of God meant an early and a violent death, and when that day came, it was found insufficient to restrict retribution and reward to this life only. A worthier understanding of the life to come, and a more balanced sense of its relation to the present life, were attained as a result.

© 1951 F.F. Bruce

Darwin's Arguments Against Christianity & Religion (B B Warfield)

Just this week, the news media reminded us that Charles Darwin was born exactly two hundred years ago. At the Natural History Museum in London, there are huge celebrations arranged for the year to commemorate Darwin's birth. In USA, Darwin's influence has been compared to that of Abraham Lincoln. While all these are happening, there are growing concerns among Christians that the biblical understanding of the origins of the earth and universe and life itself would be overshadowed by the attention given to Darwin. Such concerns did not seem to bother some Christian theologians who happened to live closer to Darwin’s times, one of whom was B B Warfield. For a while in his younger days, Warfield was quite taken up with Darwinism. However, as he examined it more and more (and he had a more than usual Christian interest in it), he came to see the flaws and corrected his initial acceptance of some of the tenets of Darwinism. It is estimated that he wrote about thirty articles on the subject of religion and science and evolution. Unlike many Christian scientists today who have an interest in Darwinism as a “science”, Warfield was more interested in the person behind Darwinism, that is, Darwin himself. It goes without saying that Warfield was convinced that to understand the man’s teaching, you must understand the man himself. One such article is found in the ten-volume set, The Works of Benjamin B Warfield (New York: Oxford University Press, 1932), entitled, “Charles Darwin’s Religious Life: A Sketch in Spiritual Biography”, in Volume IX, Studies in Theology, pp. 541-582. Another article which may be of interest to us is the one I have reproduced here. “Darwin's Arguments Against Christianity & Religion” was originally published in the Homiletic Review, Jan 1889, pp. 9-16, and subsequently included in John E Meeter, Ed., Selected Shorter Writings of Benjamin B Warfield - II (Phillipsburg: Presbyterian and Reformed, 1973), pp. 132-141. I hope this article will be of some help to Christian scientists, to those of us who have to teach evolution in our schools and colleges, and to everyone else who do wonder what to make of Darwin and his evolutionary theory.

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Science has not broken with religion. But a large number of the scientific thinkers of our generation have. When we ask why, the reason returned is apt to be colored by the personal feelings of the answerer. One attributes it to the bondage into which what he speaks of as “so-called modern science” has fallen, to materialistic philosophy, or even to Satanic evil-heartedness. Another finds its explanation in the absorption of scientific workers, in this busy age, in a kind of investigation which deadens spiritual life and spiritual aspirations within them, and totally unfits them for estimating the value of other forms of evidence than that obtained in the crucible or under the microscope. Others suppose that it is the crude mode in which religion is presented to men's minds, in these days of infallible popes and Salvation Armies, which insults the intelligence of thoughtful men and prevents their giving to the real essence of faith the attention which would result in its acceptance. Others, still, conceive that it is advancing knowledge itself which in science has come to blows in religion with the outworn superstitions of a past age. In such a Babel of discordant voices it is a boon to be able to bend our ear and listen to one scientific worker, honored by all, as he tells us what it was that led him to yield up his Christian faith, and even, in large measure, that common faith in a God which he shared not with Christians only but with all men of thought and feeling.

A rare opportunity of this sort has been afforded us by the publication of the Life and Letters of Charles Darwin, by his son, in which is incorporated a very remarkable passage, extracted from some autobiographical notes written by this great student of nature, as late as 1876, with the special purpose of tracing the history of his religious views. Certainly no one will hesitate to accord to him a calm hearing; and we cannot but be instructed by learning by what processes and under the pressure of what arguments so eminently thoughtful a mind was led to desert the faith in which he was bred, and gradually to assume a position toward the problem of the origin of the world which he can call by no more luminous name than that of agnosticism.

The history of the drift by which Mr. Darwin was separated from faith in a divine order in the world, divides itself into two well-marked periods. The first of these, which was completed at about the time when he reached his fortieth year, ends with the loss of his Christianity. During the second, which extended over the remainder of his life, he struggled, with varying fortunes, but ever more and more hopelessly, to retain his standing at least as a theist. At the end of the first he no longer believed that God had ever spoken to men in his Word; at the end of the second he more than doubted whether the faintest whisper of his voice could be distinguished in his works. He was never prepared dogmatically to deny his existence; but search as he might he could not find him, and he could only say that if he existed he was, verily, a God that hides himself.

Let us take up the matter in the orderly form which Mr. Darwin has himself given it, and inform ourselves seriously what were the objections to Christianity and the difficulties in the way of a reasoned theism which led him to such sad conclusions.

His account of his loss of Christianity takes the shape of a personal history. He gives us not so much an argument against Christianity as a record of the arguments which led him to discard it. These fall into two classes: in the first stands the single decisive argument that really determined his anti-Christian attitude; while in the second are gathered together the various supporting considerations which came flocking to buttress the conclusion when once it was attained. The palmary argument depends for its weight on a twofold peculiarity of his personal attitude. He had persuaded himself not only that species originated by a process of evolution, but also that this process was slow, long continued, and by a purely natural development. And he held, with dogmatic tenacity, the opinion that the Book of Genesis teaches that God created each species by a separate, sudden, and immediate fiat. If both these positions were sound, it followed necessarily that either his theory or Genesis was in error; and to him, in his naturally enthusiastic advocacy of his theory, this meant that Genesis must go. Now he was ready for another step. Genesis is an integral part of the Old Testament, and the Old Testament is not only bound up with the New Testament in a single volume, but is in such a sense a part of Christianity – as its groundwork and basis – that Christianity cannot be true if the Old Testament record is untrustworthy. To give up Genesis is, therefore, to give up Christianity. Thus his chief argument against Christianity reduces itself to a conflict between his theory of evolution and his interpretation of Genesis, about the accuracy of both of which there are the gravest of doubts. Here is the form in which he himself describes the process: “I had gradually come by this time, that is, 1836 to 1839, to see that the Old Testament was no more to be trusted than the sacred books of the Hindus. The question then continually rose before my mind, and would not be banished: is it credible that if God were now to make a revelation to the Hindus he would permit it to be connected with the belief in Vishnu, Siva, etc., as Christianity is connected with the Old Testament? This appeared to me as utterly incredible.”

It was impossible, however, to deal with Christianity as if it came claiming our acceptance uncommended by evidence of its own. The assumed conflict with Genesis would be fatal to the theory of evolution if the Christianity in vital connection with Genesis were confessed to be truth demonstrated by its own appropriate historical evidence. Mr. Darwin could not, therefore, rest in this short refutation without calling to its aid other more direct arguments, such as would suffice to place Christianity at least on the defensive and thus allow the palmary argument free scope to work its ruin. Thus we read further: “By further reflecting that the clearest evidence would be requisite to make any sane man believe in the miracles by which Christianity is supported, and that the more we know of the fixed laws of nature the more incredible do miracles become; that the men at that time were ignorant and credulous to a degree almost incomprehensible by us; that the Gospels cannot be proved to have been written simultaneously with the events; that they differ in many important details, far too important, as it seemed to me, to be admitted as the usual inaccuracies of eye- witnesses – by such reflections as these… I gradually came to disbelieve in Christianity as a divine revelation. The fact that many false religions have spread over large portions of the earth like wildfire had some weight with me.”

This is Mr. Darwin’s arraignment of the Christian evidences. A close scrutiny will reveal the important place which miracles occupy in it. It may almost be said that Mr. Darwin concerns himself with no other of the evidences of Christianity, except miracles. It looks as if, in his objection to Christianity, arising from the conflict that existed in his opinion between Genesis and his theory of evolution, he felt himself faced down by the force of the miracles by which, as he says, “Christianity is supported,” and felt bound to throw doubt on this evidence or yield up his theory. In one word, he felt the force of the evidence from miracles. It is instructive to observe how he proceeds in the effort to break the weight of their evidence. He does not shortly assert, as some lesser scientific lights are accustomed to assert, that miracles are impossible. He merely says that they need clear evidence of their real occurrence to make us believe in them, and that this is increasingly true as the reign of law is becoming better recognized. And then he tries to throw doubt on the evidence of their occurrence: they profess to have been wrought in a credulous age; the documents in which they are recorded cannot be proved to be contemporaneous with their asserted occurrence, and are marred by internal contradictions in detail which lessen their trustworthiness; and it is not necessary to assume the miraculous origin of Christianity in order to account for its rapid spread. In a word, Mr. Darwin deserts the metaphysical and what may be called the “scientific” objections to miracles, in order to rest his case on the historical objections. He does not say miracles cannot have occurred; he merely says that the evidence on which they are asserted to have occurred falls something short of demonstration.

Were our object here criticism rather than exposition, it would be easy to show the untenableness of this position: it was not in the field of the historical criticism of the first Christian centuries that Mr. Darwin won his spurs. There are also many more sources of evidence for Christianity than its miracles. It is enough for our present purpose, however, to take note of the form which the reasoning assumed in his own mind. It has a somewhat odd appearance, and was about as follows: The miracles by which Christianity is supported are not demonstrably proved to have really occurred; therefore the conflict of my theory with Genesis, and through Genesis with Christianity, is not a conflict with miraculous evidence; therefore my theory may as well be true as Christianity. The validity of the inference seems to rest on the suppressed premise that none but miraculous evidence would suffice to set aside his theory. And there is a droll suggestion that his state of mind on the subject was not very far from this: “I was very unwilling to give up my belief,” he writes; “I feel sure of this, for I can well remember often and often inventing day-dreams of old letters between distinguished Romans, and manuscripts being found at Pompeii or elsewhere, which confirmed in the most striking manner all that was written in the Gospels. But I found it more and more difficult, with free scope given to my imagination, to invent evidence which would suffice to convince me. Thus unbelief crept on me at a very slow rate, but was at last complete. The rate was so slow that I felt no distress.” Nothing short of a miracle would, then, have convinced him; and nothing short of a miracle could have convinced him of a miracle. Surely a man in such a state of mind would be refused as a juror in any case. In lesser causes we should speak of him as under bondage to an invincible prejudice; in this great one we are certainly justified in saying that his predilection for his theory of the origin of species, and that in the exact form in which he had conceived it, lay at the root of his rejection of Christianity. If both Christianity and it could not be true, why then Christianity certainly could not be true, and a full examination of the evidence was unnecessary.

It was some years after his giving up of Christianity before his belief in the existence of a personal God was shaken. But as time went on this also came. The account given in his autobiography of this new step in unbelief is not thrown into the form of a history so much as of ordered reasoning. So that we have, strangely enough, as part of a brief body of autobiographical notes, a formal antitheistic argument. The heads of theistic proof, which Mr. Darwin treats in this remarkable passage, are the following: (1) “The old argument from design in nature as given by Paley”; (2) “the general beneficent arrangement of the world”; (3) “the most usual argument for the existence of an intelligent God at the present day, drawn from the deep inward conviction and feelings which are experienced by most persons”; and (4) the argument “from the extreme difficulty or rather impossibility of conceiving this immense and wonderful universe, including man with his capacity of looking far backwards and far into futurity, as the result of blind chance or necessity.” The full development of these propositions, while it would be far, no doubt, from exhausting the argument for the existence of God, would afford quite a respectable body of theistic proof. In offering a refutation of, them, one by one, Mr. Darwin evidently feels that he is sufficiently treating the whole fabric of theistic argumentation; and he draws an agnostic conclusion accordingly. It will be very instructive to note his answers to them, in as much detail as space will allow.

To the first – the argument from design as developed, say, by Paley – he replies that it “fails, now that the law of natural selection has been discovered.” “We can no longer argue,” he adds, “that, for instance, the beautiful hinge of a bivalve must have been made by an intelligent being, like the hinge of a door by man. There seems to be no more design in the variability of organic beings and in the action of natural selection than in the course which the wind blows.” By this he means that the adaptations of means to ends, as observed in nature, are the necessary result of the interaction of the purely mechanical forces of nature, and would result from them whether there is a God or not; and that therefore they cannot be pleaded as a proof that there is a God. This conception of the working of nature is the result of the stringency with which he held to his theory of evolution by natural selection, in the exact naturalistic form in which he first conceived it. The second argument, that drawn “from the general beneficent arrangement of the world,” he meets by a reference to the great amount of suffering in the world. As a sound evolutionist he believes that happiness decidedly prevails over misery; but he urges that the existence of so much suffering is an argument against the existence of an intelligent first cause; “whereas the presence of much suffering agrees well with the view that all organic beings have been developed through variation and natural selection,” which he appears to assume to be a necessarily antitheistic conception. In treating the third argument, derived from man’s “deep inward conviction and feelings” that there is a God, to whom his aspirations go out, on whom he is dependent and to whom he is responsible, Mr. Darwin confuses the “conviction” with the “feelings,” and sets the whole aside as no more valid an argument for the existence of God than “the powerful, though vague, and similar feelings excited by music.” He sorrowfully recalls the time when he too had such feelings rise within him in the presence of grand scenery, for instance: when he could not adequately describe the “higher feelings of wonder and admiration and devotion which filled and elevated his mind;” but confesses that they no more visit him, and that he might truly be said to be like a man who has become colorblind and whose loss of perception is therefore of no value as evidence against the universal belief of men. But he denies that the “conviction of the existence of one God” (why “one” God?) is universal among men; and hints that he believes that all these feelings can be reduced to the “sense of the sublime,” which, could it only be analyzed, might be shown not to involve the existence of God any more than the similar emotions raised by music. The confusion here is immense confusion of a conviction that accompanies, or rather begets and governs, feelings with the feelings themselves – confusion of the analysis of an emotion into its elements with the discovery of its cause, and the like. But the confusion and Mr. Darwin's method of seeking relief from his puzzlement, are characteristic traits which may teach us somewhat of the value of his testimony as to the scientific aspects of faith. The fourth argument, that which rests upon our causal judgment, is the only one to which he ascribes much value. He does not hesitate to speak of the “impossibility of conceiving this immense and wonderful universe as the result of blind chance or necessity.” But the question arises: Impossibility to whom? And here again Mr. Darwin’s theory of the origin of man, by a purely natural process of development from brute ancestors, entered in to void the unavoidable conclusion. “But then,” he adds, “arises the doubt. Can the mind of man, which has, as I fully believe, been developed from a mind as low as that possessed by the lowest animals, be trusted when it draws such grand conclusions?” Or, as he writes later, after having again confessed to “an inward conviction that the universe is not the result of chance.” “But then with me the horrid doubt always arises whether the convictions of man's mind, which has been developed from the mind of the lower animals, are of any value or at all trustworthy. Would anyone trust in the convictions of a monkey's mind, if there are any convictions in such a mind?” Thus the last and strongest theistic proof fails, not because of any lack in its stringent validity to the human mind, but because so brute-bred a mind as man's is no judge of the validity of proof.

We are tempted to turn aside and ask, Why, then, are the theistic proofs so carefully examined by Mr. Darwin? Why is so much validity assigned to the judgment of his human mind as to the value of the argument from design, for instance? Why does he trust that brute-bred mind through all the devious reasonings by which the theory of development by natural selection, on the basis of which the value of its conclusions are now challenged, was arrived at? In a word, is it not certain, if man’s mind is so brutish that its causal judgment is not trustworthy when it demands a sufficient cause for this universe, that it is equally untrustworthy in all its demands for a sufficient cause, and that thus all the fabric of our knowledge tumbles about our ears, all our fine theories, all our common judgments by which we live? When Mr. Darwin chokes down this “inward conviction” and refuses to believe what he confesses to be “impossible” to him not to believe, he puts the knife at the throat of all his convictions, even of his conviction that he exists and his conviction that a world lies about him, such as he sees with his eyes and theorizes about with his “bestial” mind; and there necessarily goes out into the blackness of nescience all thought, all belief, all truth.

But we remember that we are not now criticizing, but only trying to understand Mr. Darwin's reasons for refusing to believe in “what is called a personal God.” This much is plain, that the root of his agnosticism, as of his rejection of Christianity, was his enthusiastic acceptance of his own theory of evolution, in the mechanical naturalistic sense in which he conceived it. We raise no question whether this was an inevitable result; there have been many evolutionists who have been and have remained theists and Christians. But this was the actual course of reasoning with him. It was because he conceived of each organic form as liable to indefinite variation in every direction, and to development into other forms by the natural reaction of the environment on these variations, through the struggle for existence, that he denied that the hand of God could be traced either in the line of variation or in the selection of the types to live. It was because he included all organic phenomena, mental and moral as well as physical, in this natural process, that he found himself unable to trust the convictions of the mind of man, which was after all nothing but the brute’s mind beaten and squeezed into something of a new form by an unmoral struggle for existence stretching through immemorial ages. In a word, Mr. Darwin’s rejection of Christianity and loss of faith in a personal God were simply the result of his enthusiastic adoption of a special theory of the origin of organic differentiation, and of ruthless subjection of all his thought to its terms.

And now, returning to our original query, we are prepared to answer why one scientific man broke with faith. Mr. Darwin was honest in deserting the faith of his childhood and the theistic convictions of his manhood. But was he logically driven to it? He himself, despite himself, confesses that he was not. To the end his “conviction” remained irreconcilable with his “conclusion.” Yet he was logical, if the evidence in favor of the extremely naturalistic form of the evolutionary hypothesis is more convincing than that for God and the Bible; but logical with a logic which strips the very logic on which we are depending for our conclusion of all its validity, and leaves us shiveringly naked of all belief and of all trustworthy faculty of thought. If we are to retain belief in our own existence, Mr. Darwin himself being witness, we must believe also in that God who gave us life and being. We can only account for Mr. Darwin's failure to accept the guidance of his inextinguishable conviction here, by recognizing that his absorption in a single line of investigation and inference had so atrophied his mind in other directions that he had ceased to be a trustworthy judge of evidence. Whatever may be true in other cases, in this case the defection of a scientific man from religion was distinctly due to an atrophy of mental qualities by which he was unfitted for the estimation of any other kind of evidence than that derived from the scalpel and the laboratory, and no longer could feel the force of the ineradicable convictions which are as “much a part of man as his stomach or his heart.”

The Book of Proverbs - Part 2 (F F Bruce)

This is the second part of Bruce's introduction to the book of Proverbs. It was originally published as F.F. Bruce, “The Wisdom Literature of the Bible: The Book of Proverbs (continued),” The Bible Student ns 22.3 (July 1951): 116-118.

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Many of the sayings in the Book of Proverbs, taken by themselves in isolation from their context, might be regarded as samples of ordinary worldly wisdom such as the proverbial lore of all nations provides in abundance. The warning against becoming surety for a stranger (Prov. 6:1-2; 11:15) is something that one can learn from experience in any part of the world; while simple people in all ages have proved the blessedness of the saying:

Better is a dinner of herbs where love is,
Than a stalled ox and hatred therewith (Prov. 15:17).

But it is not merely as counsels taught by experience that these and many other sayings are included here. In the context in which they appear in the Book of Proverbs the wisdom that they enshrine is seen to be an aspect of the wisdom of God which is the main subject of the whole work. The lessons learned from experience are lessons taught by God; experience is one of His methods of teaching. When the matter is viewed thus, the Book of Proverbs is recognized as a storehouse of spiritual and not merely secular teaching. We may think of the spiritual teaching of Proverbs under a number of heads.

First of all comes the teaching of the book about the being and character of God.

Nowhere is it deemed necessary in the Book of Proverbs to prove the existence of God; God’s existence is the basic postulate of the book, as it is of the whole Bible. Nor is it deemed necessary to prove the unity of God; it is taken for granted that there is but one God. This God has created all things:

The Lord by wisdom founded the earth;
By understanding He established the heavens (Prov. 3:19).

The Creator of all is also the Disposer supreme:

The lot is cast into the lap;
But the whole disposing thereof is of the Lord (Prov. 16:33).

His purpose cannot be thwarted, whatever the plans of men may be:

There are many devices in a man’s heart;
But the counsel of the Lord, that shall stand (Prov. 19:21).

He is omniscient, and nothing escapes His attention, especially in all that affects mankind:

The eyes of the Lord are in every place,
Keeping watch upon the evil and the good (Prov. 15:3).

And, above all, He is righteous and merciful; He delights in righteousness and mercy on the part of men, and everything that is unrighteous or unmerciful is an abomination in His sight. The wisdom of God is so imbued with the ideal of righteousness that it is as much ethical as intellectual in quality:

All the words of my mouth are in righteousness;
There is nothing crooked or perverse in them (Prov. 8:8).

And those who learn the divine wisdom show now well they have learned their lesson by manifesting righteousness and mercy in their lives and actions; this is the fear of the Lord, which is the first lesson taught in Wisdom’s school.

God takes care of His people:

The Lord will not suffer the soul of the righteous to famish;
But He thrusteth away the desire of the wicked (Prov. 50:3).

In particular, the destitute and underprivileged have a special place in His interest:

Rob not the poor, because he is poor,
Neither oppress the afflicted in the gate:

For the Lord will plead their cause,
And despoil of life those that despoil them (Prov. 22:22-23).

He is the true defence of men, “a shield to them that walk in integrity” (Prov. 2:7):

The name of the Lord is a strong tower;
The righteous runneth into it, and is safe (Prov. 18:10).

He is the Hearer of prayer (15:29); the Rewarder of righteousness and mercy (19:17); the One whose blessing is enrichment in itself (10:22).

Men ought therefore to render Him grateful worship and show their appreciation of His goodness:

Honour the Lord with thy substance,
And with the firstfruits of all thine increase (Prov. 3:9).

But sacrifice is no substitute for uprightness:

The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to the Lord;
But the prayer of the wicked is His delight (Prov. 15:8).

To do justice and judgment
Is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice (Prov. 21:3).

Men’s truest gratitude to God lies in their manifesting the character and conduct that He delights in, and in putting all their trust in Him. Time and again throughout the book an attitude of complete confidence in God is inculcated: “whoso trusteth in the Lord, happy is he” (Prov. 16:20).

Thus all that the Book of Proverbs teaches about God is not only in complete agreement with the teaching of the Law and the Prophets, but is also seen to be in harmony with the teaching of the Gospels, where we read that the tithing of mint and anise and cummin is no substitute for judgment and mercy and faith; and that a confident trust in God is the attitude which He delights to find in men.

(To be continued)

© 1951 F.F. Bruce

The Book of Proverbs - Part 1 (F F Bruce)

F F Bruce is most well-known as an inter-testamental and New Testament scholar. It is not often that you find material by him on the Old Testament. So it came as a pleasant surprise to me that he wrote a short three-part introduction to the book of Proverbs in The Bible Student in 1951. While not as comprehensive as some other introductory material I have seen, I like the way in which he teases out the purpose of this book and some of its major themes which Bruce very ably links to the teaching of Jesus and the apostles in the New Testament. It was originally published as F.F. Bruce, “The Wisdom Literature of the Bible: The Book of Proverbs,” The Bible Student ns 22.2 (April 1951): 76-77.

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The Book of Proverbs in the Hebrew Bible is entitled Mishlé Shelomoh—‘the Proverbs of Solomon’ - from the words with which it opens. The wisdom of Solomon was itself proverbial, and his gift for proverbial utterance is recorded in 1 Kings 4:32 ff: “And he spake three thousand proverbs... and he spake of trees, from the cedar that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that springeth out of the wall: He spake also of beasts, and of fowl, and of creeping things, and of fishes.”

The word translated ‘proverb’ is Heb. mashal, which has a wider sense than that which we usually associate with ‘proverb’. Its root meaning is ‘to resemble’, and so it might be rendered ‘similitude’ or ‘parable’. And this is the character of many of the proverbs in this book, the point of which consists in a comparison between two situations, e.g. “As vinegar to the teeth, and as smoke to the eyes, so is the sluggard to them that send him” (Prov. 10:26). The word mashal is as applicable to the parables of a greater than Solomon as to the proverbs of Solomon himself.

The Book of Proverbs contains seven smaller collections. These are:

(i) chapters 1 to 9, a number of passages in praise of wisdom, entitled “The proverbs of Solomon, the son of David, king of Israel”. Indeed, the whole paragraph, 1:1-6, forms the title both to this smaller collection and to the complete book.

(ii) chapters 10:1-22:16, another collection of shorter and more isolated saws, entitled “The proverbs of Solomon”.

(iii) chapters 22:17-24:22, entitled (in the Septuagint) “The words of the wise”.1 This is followed by a short section, 24:23-34, which bears the title, “These also are sayings of the wise”, and forms an appendix to it.

(iv) chapters 25 to 29, a collection similar in character to No. ii, and entitled “These also are proverbs of Solomon, which the men of Hezekiah king of Judah copied out.” Presumably they had circulated orally before Hezekiah’s time. Hezekiah’s reign appears to have been a period of considerable literary activity in the southern kingdom, in spite of the Assyrian menace.

(v) chapter 30, entitled (as we should probably translate) “The words of Agur the son of Jakeh of Massa”. Massa was a region in North Arabia, referred to in Gen. 25:14 and 1 Chron. 1:30, and mentioned in Assyrian inscriptions; the name may survive in the modern Masani, northeast of Dumah. Agur may have been one of the “children of the east” mentioned in I Kings 4:30. A number, of the sayings of Agur are cast in a readily recognizable fourfold pattern; cf. verses 11-14, 15b-16, 18-19, 21-23, 24-28, 29-31.

(vi) chapter 31:1-9, entitled “The words of Lemuel king of Massa, which his mother taught him” (so R. V. margin, as in 30:1), and therefore probably emanating from the same quarter, as the preceding collection. The maternal advice in this brief section urges that a king, to perform his duty properly, must avoid the temptations of wine and women.

(vii) chapter. 31:10-31, an acrostic poem celebrating the praises of the virtuous woman, or ‘woman of worth’. Each of the 22 verses of this section begins with the corresponding letter, of the Hebrew alphabet. The Hebrew text gives no clue to the authorship of this poem.

The Septuagint exhibits a different order here and there, but the order of the Hebrew text is preferable. Thus, the Septuagint places Collection iv between Collections vi and vii, and thus makes it appear that Solomon himself was the author of the acrostic in praise of the ‘woman of worth’ - which, in view of his unhappy matrimonial career, is hardly likely. An equally unconvincing change of order in the Septuagint is the placing of the appendix entitled “These also are sayings of the wise” (24:23-34) between verses 14 and 15 of chapter 30.

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1 This is the section which shows closest contact with the Wisdom of Amenemope, mentioned in our previous paper. In its original form it seems to have contained 38 small sections, and the difficult verse 22:20 is now generally held to mean “Have I not written for thee thirty sayings?” The Wisdom of Amenemope contains the passage: “Consider these thirty chapters”. Put, whatever the literary relationship, the Hebrew writer preserves an independent outlook.

(To be continued)

© 1951 F.F. Bruce