Letting the Bible Have Its Way

Part 4

The Bible is viewed in many different ways.

Some see it as a how-to book for life or an “owner’s manual” for the soul, if you will. Some see it as a collection of myths and tales from an unenlightened past. Some see it as a sacred object for use in the holiest of settings. Some see it as a foundation of Western culture.

One of the things I appreciate about Michael Heiser’s The Unseen Realm is the overall approach he uses with the Bible. Primarily, he tries to take the Bible on its own terms, in its own context.

He tries not to impose his own ideas, preconceptions, or needs on the text. He begins by wondering what the original writers thought, what kind of culture they lived in, what kind of assumptions they had about the world. As he puts it, “The realization that I needed to read the Bible like a pre-modern person who embraced the supernatural, unseen world has illumined its content more than anything else in my academic life” (385).

We are fortunate to live in a day of widely available access to ancient documents and archaeological research that have emerged in the last two hundred years. They give us greater understanding of the worldview and the mind of the original biblical writers. We are also more alert to how our own Enlightenment, scientific, or postmodern mindsets can lead both believers and skeptics to impose ideas on the Bible that just aren’t there.

One example: The biblical writers simply didn’t have a category for a how-to manual that allows one to take individual verses out of context for instant answers. They did however have a category for wisdom literature that requires slow, lifelong meditation on texts that may at times seem to be at odds with each other.

Another example: The biblical writers did not employ modern historical methods or criteria. They couldn’t. They employed their own customs and used genres common to their day to tell stories for their own purposes. To label these as “inaccurate” or “in error” by today’s standards is an exercise in missing the point.

In particular Heiser takes aim at the misguided assumption that a literal reading is the truest approach to Scripture, that such a method is the primary way God intends us to read the Bible. When we do, we fail to understand how much scientific and materialistic ways of thinking (which are foreign to the Bible) have come to dominate our own perspective. As he writes:

Metaphorical meaning isn’t “less real” than literal meaning (however, that’s defined). Whether we like it or not, the biblical writers weren’t obsessed with literalism the way we seem to be…. Biblical writers regularly employ conceptual metaphor in their writing and thinking. That’s because they were human. Conceptual metaphor refers to the way we use a concrete term or idea to communicate abstract ideas. If we marry ourselves to the concrete (“literal”) we’re going to miss the point the writer was angling for in many cases.

He gives this example, “If I use the word ‘Vegas’ and all you think of is latitude and longitude, you’re not following my meaning. Biblical words can carry a lot of freight that transcends their concrete sense. Inspiration didn’t immunize language from doing what it does.” (387)

We can’t completely get out of our own skin and crawl into the framework of those who lived two or three thousand years ago in a very different culture. But the journey into the world of the Bible and then back into our world is so worth it.

Note: If you would like a video summary of the book, The Unseen Realm documentary can be found here on YouTube. At just over an hour, this presentation features Michael Heiser and several other respected biblical scholars who offer a clear, succinct overview of the key points from the influential book.

Next Installment: Concerns about the Unseen Realm (Part 5)

Image by StockSnap from Pixabay

The Surprising Difference the Unseen Realm Makes

Part 3

So what if the biblical worldview is permeated with ongoing warfare waged by rebellious spiritual beings against God’s followers? How should that affect me?

That’s the question I left us with after my two previous posts here and here on Michael Heiser’s thorough biblical study, The Unseen Realm. Surprisingly, perhaps, Heiser doesn’t highlight exorcism. What he does address is far more amazing and profound.

It starts by appreciating the different but related ways “son of God” or “sons of God” is used in the Bible. “The sons of God” can refer to spiritual members of the divine council (see previous posts) who God appointed to work with him in ordering creation (Job 38:7; Ps 82:6). The phrase can also mean the king of Israel (Ps 2:7) or Israel as a whole (Ex 4:2; Hos 11:1). It can also refer to all believers (John 1:13; Rom 8:14; Gal 3:26; 4:5), and of course to Jesus’ unique sonship (Matt 14:33).

What they all have in common, whether natural or supernatural, is the special status God assigns to them to work with him in bringing about his will, on earth as it is in heaven. When the Bible says we are sons and daughters of God, this is more than just a warm, sweet way of talking about how we are a cozy part of God’s family. It means we have a role in ruling. As God first commanded the man and woman: “Fill the earth and subdue it. Rule . . .” (Gen 1:28).

Our destiny is not just one of salvation in God’s presence eternally, as astounding as that is. We, his people, play a more profound, more mind-boggling role than we may have ever imagined. As Heiser puts it, “We are the children of God, destined to displace the defeated, disloyal sons of God who now rule the nations. Believing followers of Jesus Christ are the fulfillment of God’s plan to have humanity join the divine family-council and restore Eden” (p. 314). This is the context for Paul’s comment that we will one day rule angels (1 Cor 6:3).

In our everyday lives, Paul reminds us that we live this out as temples where heaven and earth meet in our bodies (1 Cor 3:16). Even the sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s Supper, as Heiser explains, are reminders to those in the unseen realm of our ultimate loyalty. We are not theirs. We are his (1 Cor 10:14-17).

When we seek to live out God’s will to unite all in Christ, we have a profound effect on the rebellious unseen realm. As N. T. Wright says regarding Ephesians 3:6, 10:

It is when the Christian community comes together across barriers which divide us from one another that the principalities and powers know that Jesus Christ is Lord. And that as long as we are divided whether black and white, male and female, rich and poor or whatever, the principalities and powers smile and say, “We are still in charge here!”*

How do we get through a day? Both the hundreds of petty annoyances, and the deep doubts, losses, and hardships of life can weigh us down, confuse us, and strike hard blows. By the Spirit, however, we can also remember who we are and who we will be.

*N. T. Wright, in a question-and-answer session after a joint lecture with Paul Barnett, “Fresh Perspectives on Paul,” MacQuarie University (Sydney, Australia), March 16, 2006 (Vancouver: Regent Bookstore/Regent Audio).

Image by Deborah Hudson from Pixabay.

The Bible’s Grand Story in the Unseen Realm

Part 2

I love books that offer a grand sweep of the Bible that ties the whole together through a theme like the Exodus or the Temple. Seeing how all of Scripture unites in multiple ways is enlightening and energizing for me.

In that regard, Heiser’s The Unseen Realm does not disappoint. As I noted here, his book is not just a catalog of spiritual beings. Rather he tells a remarkable story of God’s plan for creation from Genesis to Revelation through this clarifying lens.

And what is that story? “The Old Testament is basically a record of the long war between Yahweh and the gods, and between Yahweh’s children and the nations, to re-establish the original Edenic design” (p. 376). And the two wars are actually one, with rebellious spiritual beings using the nations in their battle.

Here’s how it unfolds. While initial conflicts emerge in Genesis 3 and 6, a turn comes, unexpectedly, in Genesis 10 which offers an apparently boring list of seventy nations descended from Noah and his sons. But these are the nations split up in Genesis 11 after the fiasco at the Tower of Babel. God doesn’t completely forsake them, however. In Genesis 12 he promises to bless them through Abraham and his family.

What is going on here? Moses offers a striking explanation of the episode at Babel: “When the Most High gave to the nations their inheritance, when he divided mankind [at Babel], he fixed the borders of the peoples according to the number of the sons of God. But the Lord’s portion is his people, Jacob his allotted heritage” (Deut 32:8-9 ESV).

God, says Moses, gave up the corrupt nations to their rebellion at Babel, turning them over to “the sons of God,” which is a reference to the divine council (a group of spiritual beings often referenced in places like Gen 6:2; Ex 15:11; Job 1:6; 2:1; Ps 82:1, 6; 89:6-7; etc.). The nations are disinherited from God at Babel and given over to the control of these equally rebellious “sons of God.” But God chooses one nation for his inheritance—through whom all the nations will eventually be brought back into the fold. That is, Israel.

As we know, that is ultimately fulfilled by God in the person of Jesus Christ, the unique Son, who accomplishes the task Israel failed to complete. When the New Testament then refers (as it does frequently) to the nations (e.g., Matt 28:19; Mk 13:10; Acts 1:8; Rom 16:26; etc.), this is more than a statement about a worldwide mission. It is a reclamation project which involves God’s plan to dethrone the rebellious spiritual beings who led the nations astray, and bring all peoples back to himself.

Many years ago I heard the phrase “territorial spirits” to describe how nations were guided by evil beings who had a certain geographic or ethnic domain. I was skeptical, thinking it derived from isolated and contested texts like Daniel 10:12-21. Heiser doesn’t employ that terminology, but he does use the phrase “the divine council cosmic-geographical worldview,” to describe what he sees as permeating Scripture (p. 349).

What difference does all this make? How does it affect our life in Christ?

Those are the questions I’ll address in my next post.

Image: Ziggurat at Ur, modern Tall al-Muqayyar, Iraq. Such temple towers were characteristic of Mesopotamia, 2200 to 550 BC, and was likely the pattern followed at Babel (see John Walton and Tremper Longman III, The Lost World of the Flood, pp. 129-42). Image by Abdulmomn Kadhim from Pixabay.

The Unseen Realm of the Supernatural

Part 1

We aren’t comfortable talking about spiritual beings. For those of us, even Christians, who grew up in a world dominated by science and a material mindset, talk of angels and demons just feels weird.

Even when we read the Bible, we tend to downplay such topics. In The Unseen Realm, however, Michael Heiser opens our eyes to what is hiding in plain sight.

We know about the angels in the Christmas story and the demons Jesus challenged. Paul also offers a rich vocabulary for such beings which includes “the rulers . . . the authorities . . . the powers of this dark world and . . . the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Eph 6:12).

Heiser, however, focuses on the divine counsel that appears in Job 1–2. You remember—in the midst of this assembly comes The Accuser (aka Satan) who casts doubts on Job’s character and loyalty to God.

While God doesn’t need spirit helpers (as he doesn’t need human ones either), he has chosen to use them, to let them participate in his work—and they are much more involved than we might think.

As Heiser puts it, “Though the kingdom story of the Bible is rarely taught with it in mind, the divine council plays an important role throughout that story’s unfolding. The scriptural pattern is that, when God prepares to act in strategic ways that propel his kingdom forward, the divine council is part of that decision making. The council is the vehicle through which God issues his decrees” (p. 349).

Is he overstating things? There’s more than we might think. Consider the “let us” language of Genesis 1:26 and 11:7. Or the “myriads of holy ones” who came with God when he gave the law on Sinai (Deut 33:1-2; Acts 7:52-53; Gal 3:19). Or those who participated when Isaiah was commissioned (6:1-7). Or another scene much like the one in Job (1 Kings 22:13- 28). Or those who will occupy the multiple thrones of Daniel 7:9 and Revelation 4:1-8.

Yet some rebelled, turned their back on God. The Bible doesn’t exactly tell us why or how. Our ideas on this backstory owe more to Milton’s Paradise Lost than Scripture. But rebel they did.

In Psalm 82:1-7 God judges these beings for supporting the wicked and oppressing the weak. Sometimes they are referred to as gods (Ex 15:11; 1 Kgs 8:23; Ps 97:9), gods who are completely inferior to Yahweh, the true God. We see their ultimate fate in the book of Revelation.

While The Unseen Realm is massively researched, Heiser is a Scripture nerd who writes so nonexperts can follow along. In plain language he answers questions like:

  • Are these beings “gods”?
  • Why are they called “sons,” and how does Jesus as the only Son fit in?
  • How did ancient people think about spiritual beings?
  • Who are the Nephilim of Genesis 6:1-4 anyway?
  • What in the world is Paul talking about when he says we will judge angels (1 Cor 6:3)?
  • Why wasn’t the Old Testament more explicit about a Divine Messiah dying and rising again?
  • And where is Armaggedon . . . really?

But The Unseen Realm is more than a collection of questions and answers about oddities in the Bible. Heiser sees the whole sweep of God’s plan for creation tied up in these issues. The main purpose of his book is, in fact, to unveil for us this grand narrative.

That is the topic of my next installment.

Taming Dragons

We don’t find dragons just in myths or in movies. We find them in the Bible more often than we might think. The dragon in Revelation 12 is just the last of many times we find sea monsters or twisting serpents (see Gen 3), all part of a larger category of chaos creatures like those mentioned in Daniel.

As Andy Angel summarizes in Playing with Dragons, the Old Testament associates them with disorder and evil which God ultimately controls. Sometimes they are equated with the seas and rivers from which they arise, seas which God rebukes, setting their limits, trampling them (Gen 1:7-10; Job 7:12; 38:8-11; Ps 65:7; 89:9-10; Jer 5:22; Da 7:2-3; and for portraits of Jesus as ruler, like God, over the chaos of the sea, see Mark 4:35-42; 5:11-13; 6:45-52).

Surrounding cultures had long used such images to explain their world, the forces of nature, the fates of humans. Why would the biblical writers do so as well? Moses, the psalmists, and prophets borrowed from these well-known tales but changed them significantly to distinguish Yahweh from the gods in those tales. For them there is no contest between God and these other forces (as there is in other cultures). Yahweh is clearly superior, in a class by himself (Ex 15:11; Ps 86:8; Jer 10:6).

Andy Angel, however, emphasizes another dimension in all this, a very human dimension. We often find these creatures mentioned when the authors are struggling with suffering and the triumphs of God’s enemies. If God has already defeated these chaos creatures, they ask, why do his people still suffer? We find these questions most prominently in Psalms of lament (Ps 74, 77, 89, 144) and the book of Job (Leviathan and Behemoth in Job 38–41).

Matthew, as Angel points out, also takes up these themes especially in the stories of Jesus and the disciples on the waters. The gospel writer gives his own spin to the topics of chaos, fear, and faith in the midst of suffering.

All these stories are more than stories. The forces of darkness are all too clearly at work in our world. Nor does the Bible whitewash this reality. Rather in our sorrow it invites us to struggle with God, to cling to God like Jacob did in the wilderness.

We might wish for clearer answers. What God instead offers is himself, his presence, and hope—hope based on the even more solid reality of Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. He offers “a hope that one day this God will finally conquer all chaos and evil, and that we can be a part of that new creation.”*


*Andy Angel, Playing with Angels (Cascade Books, 2014), p. 103.

How to be Well Versed

For Bible lovers, our hearts are warmed to be reminded to “Be still and know that I am God” or that “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13 NKJV).

But sometimes taking a verse out of context can put us in a bit of a pickle. Does “all things” include me being an NBA All-Star even though I am vertically, age, and athletically challenged? The context of Philippians 4 (rejoicing, unity in Christ, being gentle, not worrying, being content in Christ) matters. Those are all the kinds of things Paul has in mind that Christ can strengthen him to do–not finding athletic, financial, relational, or artistic success.

The biblical authors didn’t write expecting that their sentences would be taken in isolation. They intended readers to understand how each part fit in the whole. But we often take verses out of context—sometimes to prove a point, sometimes for comfort or reassurance. Why do we do this?

One reason might be the introduction of verse divisions about 500 years ago. This made it easier for those writing or speaking about the Bible to be precise about where to find a particular quotation. A good thing. But over the centuries it has given the impression that each verse stands alone from its context. This can make it look like each verse is its own bullet point.

In fact, when the King James Version was originally typeset and published, each verse began its own paragraph. And that is still the way it is printed!

Verse divisions were not part of the original manuscripts of the Bible books. And certainly each verse was not its own paragraph. Paul’s letters, for example, were written in ancient Greek without paragraphs or any punctuation—not even with spaces between words!

Punctuation in Greek and other languages slowly developed over the next thousand years to make reading easier and the text clearer. And punctuation is still changing.

Is it okay to hang “The Lord is my shepherd” on my wall. Of course. But let it be a reminder of the whole of Psalm 23, and how it fits in the middle of Book 1 of the Psalms (1-41), and of the whole book of Psalms in which we find it, and how the Psalms fits in the Bible.

Your Super Strange Bible

Of all the odd things in the Bible, Numbers 5 has got to rank way up there near the top. Do you remember reading about a strange test for deciding if your wife is unfaithful? I didn’t until my son asked me about it after hearing a podcast.

In verse 11-31 we are told that if a man is jealous and angry because he suspects his wife has been unfaithful, he’s supposed to go to the priest who will give his wife water mixed with dust from the floor of the tabernacle. If she gets sick from drinking it, she’s guilty. If she doesn’t, she’s innocent.

Wait? What? Seriously? This sounds like Salem Witch Trial stuff to determine if someone is in league with the devil. “Did you feel a chill when their shadow crossed you?” I mean, really?

OK. Super strange . . . but I think there is a way to understand it that makes at least a little sense.

First, in other Ancient Middle Eastern cultures (and possibly Israel too before Moses), the husband would have had the right to immediately divorce his wife, kill her, or have her killed just on the basis of his feelings that she was unfaithful—with absolutely no evidence or testimony required. He didn’t have to consult anyone. Sadly we sometimes still hear of such honor killings in the Middle East. Remarkably, this whole Numbers 5 procedure hits the pause button on those unchecked impulses and takes it out of the husband’s hands.

Second, as Wendy Alsup reminds us, with “trials by ordeal” in other cultures, the accused person is usually found guilty and dies. In the case of Numbers 5, just putting dust from the floor in drinking water is not likely to make anyone die or even get sick. After all, especially in that peasant culture, they’ve been eating and breathing dust their whole lives.

So yes, it is odd to us, and while it seems (is?) very patriarchal (e.g., why isn’t another man accused of adultery along with the wife?), on the whole it protects a woman from rash, unjust, and violent actions by her husband. So while this isn’t anything we’d do today, it shows the direction of how God wants us to deal with each other (by moving from the reckless and harsh customs of surrounding cultures to being merciful and protective). And this trajectory finds its fulfillment in Christ.

Again, it’s so odd that you may not find this totally satisfying. Yet we see how God’s redemptive direction (pointing away from the values of culture, then to Old Testament principles, and then to Christ) plays out similarly when it comes to slavery and women. That is, even though what the Old Testament says about slavery and women is troubling to us, it moderates the severe practices common in that day.* This ethos is then more completely realized in Christ and in the New Testament, showing us the direction we should be headed today.

It points toward mercy. It points toward grace. It points toward compassion.

Image by Myriams-Fotos from Pixabay

*See William Webb, Slaves, Women, and Homosexuals (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2001).

The Bible on Its Own Terms

Some use the Bible as a grab bag of advice. Just pluck its timeless truths at will from the page and paste them on to our lives. Though there is much wisdom in the Scriptures, we are misguided to approach the Bible as a handbook or a user’s manual for life. Why? Because that’s not how it was originally written.

That may seem rather obvious for Biblical narratives where the point of a story may not be transparent. But it can even be true of a book like Proverbs, which seems on the surface to be just that—a collection of unconnected bits of practical instruction.

Consider these back-to-back verses in which we are told we should not answer a fool and that we should answer a fool. Here they are:

Do not answer a fool according to his folly,
or you yourself will be just like him.
Answer a fool according to his folly,
or he will be wise in his own eyes. (Proverbs 26:4-5)

What the heck is going on? Can’t the writer make up his mind?

It’s similar when it comes to money. We are told on the one hand to be very determined to work hard and avoid poverty (Proverbs 6:9-11; 10:4) and on the other hand to make sure we don’t trust in money (Proverbs 11:28; 23:4). So which is it—don’t focus on money or focus a lot on money?

Proverbs falls into an ancient genre called wisdom literature. Such writings offer insights for successful living—but in that genre such insights are not presented as hard-and-fast rules. They are often true, generally true, but not always true. They can’t be because they can’t anticipate every single possible situation.

Wisdom literature wants to get us to think. It encourages us to mediate long and hard on its sometimes opposing principles, under the guidance of the Spirit. The purpose of such meditation is to discern how to apply them in the particular situation we are in.

When confronting a fool, one size does not fit all. When dealing with money, sometimes we need to be conscientious earn it and sometimes be free to give it away. Which is it? It depends. Maybe it’s both. We can discern which approach to take with input from our community and from the Spirit. That’s the point of wisdom literature—to encourage us to depend on God, to fear the Lord.

In an age of intense relativism, of so many uncertainties in life, we yearn for assurance, for someone to tell us with absolute authority that one way is totally right and that another way is totally wrong. But the writers of the Bible knew that life is complex. God expects us to deal with gray areas as people who will grow in maturity and in wise decision making that will ultimately reflect his character.

Image of Till Eulenspiegel (Mölln) by Wälz from Pixabay

Complaining to God

In the book of Numbers the people of Israel are judged for moaning and groaning about not having enough food. Then why are there so many Psalms of lament, suggesting that complaining to God is okay?

The answer to this question, that I raised here, begins with understanding the book of Numbers. Though Israel starts with obedience as it prepares for its march into the wilderness (Num 1–10), it quickly slides into rebellion, disobedience, and criticizing God (Num 11–25). The story changes abruptly once the original generation after the Exodus dies in the wilderness (Num 26:63-65). The account of the second generation is then characterized by life and hope (Num 26–36).*

As always, in understanding Scripture, context is foundational. The complaints to God in the book of Numbers were not disconnected incidents which we can treat in isolation. They were part of a pattern, a whole posture of rebellion by the first generation, which God punished them for.

Psalms is a different book with a different context—one aspect of which is that of bringing all our emotions, concerns, praise, frustrations, thanksgiving, and sorrows to God in worship. In fact, more than a third of all psalms are laments, more than any other type of psalm.

The book of Psalms suggests that God wants us to engage him fully and honestly as individuals and as a community, with our whole beings—including our griefs and our joys. In this way we are encouraged to hold on tightly to God in the midst our pain and anger rather than to push him away.

Back to the original question. Given what we find in Numbers and the Psalms, is it okay to complain to God? The answer is yes and no. It depends. Is our complaining part of a basic attitude toward God of angry rejection? Or is it part of our pattern of wrestling with God, engaging him deeply and fully?

Our context is crucial as is the context of any given Bible passage. That’s why we can’t treat the Bible as a handbook of quick and easy answers to the complications of life. The Bible was never intended to be a grab bag of independent timeless truths which we can pull out willy-nilly at our whim. We must ponder each episode and comment the way God gave it to us–in the context of the whole.

When two parts of the Bible seem to say opposite things, that doesn’t mean we throw up our hands in despair and conclude that the Bible is not trustworthy. Rather it calls for us to stop, slow down, and meditate on the book as a whole, on the Bible as a whole, and on our life as a whole.

Sometimes complaining will be wrong, Scripture says, and sometimes it won’t. Sometimes it will be hard to tell. In any case God calls us to take the time to ask the Spirit to guide us to discern which is which.

*See Dennis T. Olson, “Book of Numbers,” Dictionary of the Old Testament Pentateuch, eds. T. Desmond Alexander and David W. Baker (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2003), pp. 611-18, which summarizes much of what is found in his larger work: Dennis T. Olson, Numbers (IBC; Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1996).

Image by AndrésC from Pixabay

“Gee, That’s Funny!”

Let’s face it. The Bible is full of curiosities.

♦ Why are four women also listed with 44 men named in the genealogy of Jesus in Matthew 1? For a patriarchal culture—gee, that’s funny.

♦ In the book of Numbers the people of Israel are judged for moaning and groaning about not having enough food. Then why are there so many Psalms of lament, suggesting that complaining to God is okay? Gee, that’s funny.

♦ In back-to-back verses, Proverbs 26:4-5 says we should answer fools and then not answer fools. Gee, that’s funny.

♦ When Jesus was walking on the water during a storm while the disciples were straining at the oars, the text says, “He was about to pass by them” (Mark 6:48). What? Didn’t he see they were in trouble? Gee, that’s really funny.

We may be so familiar with the Bible that we cease to see an odd twist, a strange insertion, a peculiar comment. Or we might just think the Bible is weird and write the whole thing off. Yet if we take the time to notice the unexpected, we can find a doorway into an insight, and even into the heart of the passage.

Consider the comment about Jesus passing by the disciples. Well, yes, walking on water itself is a little unusual, but we still notice that. We seldom, however, think about Jesus passing by. What is going on there?

Because the New Testament writers were people steeped in the Old Testament, that’s where they often drew ideas, motifs, and references to understand this surprising Jesus who was not the military Messiah they expected. The language of “passing by” recalls the story in Exodus 32–33 when Moses asked God to see his glory. God says, “When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by” (Exodus 33:22, my emphasis).

Likewise, when Elijah fled Jezebel’s murderous threats, he was told, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by” (1 Kings 19:11, my emphasis), and God revealed himself to Elijah.

We also find this in Job, who says that God “treads on the waves of the sea. . . . When he passes me, I cannot see him” (Job 9:8, 11, my emphasis). And indeed, the disciples weren’t even sure who they were looking at. “They thought he was a ghost” (Mark 6:49).

What’s Mark getting at? By using the “passing by” language that the Old Testament uses when God shows himself to humans, Mark portrays Jesus as a revelation of God to the disciples like with Moses and Elijah. Jesus, Mark is saying, is someone who somehow embodies the God of Israel.

We could go even more deeply by looking at Jesus calming the storm. According to the Old Testament, who is the one who controls the seas (Gen 1:9-10; Ex 14:27-28; Job 26:11-12; 38:8-11; Ps 65:5-7; 89:9; 104:6-7; 107:23-39)?

Taking note of something strange is exactly what Steven Johnson recommends for increasing our creativity and understanding. He calls it the slow hunch.

When we see something strange in the Bible, we may be tempted to ignore it or conclude that the Bible is unreliable. But instead, if we dig more deeply (such as into all the examples above), we can be rewarded with deeper insight.

When we react with “Gee, that’s funny,” it’s not a problem. It’s an opportunity.

Image by AJS1 from Pixabay>