Review of 1 Clement: A Reader’s Edition by Theodore A. Bergren

Review of 1 Clement: A Reader’s Edition by Theodore A. Bergren

Bergren, Theodore A. 1 Clement: A Reader’s Edition. Washington, D. C.: Catholic University of America Press, 2020, pp. 205, $22.95, paperback.

1 Clement

The letter now known as 1 Clement is an important early Christian text that has the potential to shed light on Jesus followers in the areas of Rome and Corinth, to enable readers to see more clearly what created division in early Christian communities, to observe how one author or group of authors attempts to bring about unity, and to illustrate both the variety of ways in which early Christians could interpret scriptural texts and the variant forms in which scripture could be quoted. Yet it is a long letter that can be challenging for the uninitiated to read in its entirety. This may be true even when 1 Clement is translated into a modern reader’s first language, never mind the original Greek. Theodore Bergren’s 1 Clement: A Reader’s Edition offers a chance for intermediate Greek readers who likewise know English to read 1 Clement without needing to look up every unknown word in a lexicon. Bergren is an emeritus professor in the Religious Studies Department at the University of Richmond, who has conducted significant research on the Latin works of 5–6 Ezra while also editing key indexes to be used when studying the Latin translations of the New Testament and Apostolic Fathers. His wide-ranging linguistic capabilities make him well-placed to edit a volume like the one currently under review.

Bergren keeps the introduction brief, but it is worth highlighting several important points in this concisely written section. He dates the letter of 1 Clement to the latter decades of the first century CE and leaves open the possibility that the traditional dating in the late 90s is most likely (p. vii). The reason for the letter concerns turmoil that has erupted in the Corinthian church, probably concerning a group of younger members who marginalized members of the established community hierarchy. Bergren rightly notes 1 Clement’s familiarity with Greek Jewish scriptures and the author’s likely knowledge of some documents now included in the New Testament. An appendix contains a fuller list of citations and allusions in the letter (pp. 187–190). The author of 1 Clement remains unknown, but the text came to be associated with Clement of Rome in the centuries after it was written. The introduction also wrestles with the authority that 1 Clement had among early readers in Christian communities across the Roman Empire.

After covering these and other traditional introductory issues regarding 1 Clement, Bergren introduces the reader’s edition of 1 Clement in more detail. A Greek text of 1 Clement appears on the left-facing page, while English glosses are organized verse-by-verse in order of appearance on right-facing pages. The Greek text comes from Lightfoot’s second edition of 1 Clement (1890) with slight emendation. The glosses include the lexical form of the word, the parts of speech, and definitions. Bergren argues that students can avoid the incessant and often unhelpful task of looking up words in dictionaries. They can focus instead on the more profitable tasks of translating, parsing, and grammatical study. As he rightly notes, students of biblical studies may be familiar with this way of reading from using other reader’s editions, such as those produced by the United Bible Societies (Donald R. Vance, George Athas, and Yael Avrahami, Biblia Hebraica Stuttgartensia: A Reader’s Edition [Peabody: Hendrickson, 2015]; Barclay M. Newman and Florian Voss, The UBS Greek New Testament: A Reader’s Edition [Stuttgart: German Bible Society, 2015]). Bergren’s selection of 1 Clement is significant because it enables students to become more familiar with “the historical and ideological horizons” of early Christianity and forces students to translate a text that is not as well-known and thus not as easily memorized as the New Testament (pp. x–xi).

The text of 1 Clement is easy to read with comfortably wide spacing between each line. The volume is likewise simple to navigate. Since 1 Clement: A Reader’s Edition contains only a single text, the physical size of the book makes for a pleasant reading experience because it is not as bulky as some reader’s editions of larger text collections. It can easily be held and maneuvered for accessible study. While the Greek font that is utilized appears somewhat old-fashioned, the selection of the gloss words has been astutely made. Words that are not found on the adjacent right-facing page can be looked up in a small lexicon at the back of the book (pp. 173–185). The brevity of the introduction encourages immediate engagement with the Greek text of the letter and does not pull the reader’s attention away to other issues in the study of 1 Clement. A bibliography offers additional editions to explore and opportunities to study how other scholars have discussed 1 Clement (pp. 191–193). Yet the focus of this edition is clearly on reading the Greek text of 1 Clement. For those nearing the end of their second year of Koine Greek study, this edition of 1 Clement will be practical and offer useful opportunities to expand one’s knowledge of the Greek language, early Christian scriptural quotation, and the experiences of believers living in Rome and Corinth.

The volume is thus to be highly recommended for students of Greek who are interested in expanding their reading horizons in early Christian literature, for professors who teach intermediate to advanced Koine courses and are considering reading materials, and to libraries who cater to such audiences. Bergren’s edition joins the reader’s editions of the Apostolic Fathers edited by Alan Bandy (A Greek Reader’s Apostolic Fathers [Eugene: Cascade, 2018]) as well as Shawn Wilhite and Jacob Cerone (Apostolic Fathers Greek Reader: The Complete Edition [Wilmore: GlossaHouse, 2019]) in providing those who are interested in the first and second centuries of Christian history with manifold opportunities to introduce themselves to the Greek texts of the Apostolic Fathers with relative ease. Bergren’s edition of a single text is much to be welcomed because of its light weight, easy reading, and affordable price. This reviewer would welcome other single-volume editions on, for example, 2 Clement, the letters of Ignatius, or the writings related to Polycarp from Bergren, the Catholic University of America Press, or preferably both. In any case, this is certainly an exciting time to be engaged in study of the Apostolic Fathers. Bergren’s volume on 1 Clement is a helpful and important addition to the resources available for such study.

Jonathon Lookadoo

Presbyterian University and Theological Seminary, Seoul

Review of Paul’s Theology in Context: Creation, Incarnation, Covenant, and Kingdom by James P. Ware

Review of Paul’s Theology in Context: Creation, Incarnation, Covenant, and Kingdom by James P. Ware

Ware, James P. Paul’s Theology in Context: Creation, Incarnation, Covenant, and Kingdom. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2019, xiv + 270 pp., $30, paperback.

Paul's Theology

It would be an exaggeration to say that every scholar of Paul harbors an ambition to write a Pauline theology — but not too great of an exaggeration. The basic continuity among Paul’s letters, yet with important contingencies particular to each of them, beckons for synthesis. With Paul’s Theology in Context, James P. Ware (Ph.D., Yale University), professor of religion at the University of Evansville, tries his hand at this most common of endeavors. Ware succeeds in writing an accessible, engaging theology of Paul for pastors and pastors-in-training, which might also benefit scholars and informed laypersons. He even manages to frame the apostle in some fresh ways.

The Introduction (1–4) briefly sets out the preliminaries. First, Ware writes Theology in Context “for clergy, students, and laypeople who wish to enrich their understanding of the letters of Paul,” providing “a basic ‘map’ or guide to Paul’s theology that will illumine and enliven the study, preaching, and teaching of all his letters,” though he then adds, “I hope this book will also be of interest to my fellow biblical scholars, as well as to theologians who wish to work in a way conversant with Scripture” (1). Second, what makes this work distinctive among other Pauline theologies, according to Ware, is his twofold emphasis: both how Paul’s gospel is “the fulfillment of Israel’s hopes and Scriptures” (1) and how it “would have been heard in the ancient gentile world into which it came” (2). (Here and elsewhere, italics are his.) The first has been well covered; the second, less so, though there has been renewing interest in Paul’s relation to the Roman world around him. Third, Ware’s study has four foci: creation, incarnation, covenant, and kingdom. And finally, Ware takes the entire thirteen-letter collection to be Pauline, at least in the sense of being written “by Paul in concert with a coworker authorized by the apostle to write on his behalf” (4), though Ware assures that nothing fundamental would change had he restricted himself to the seven undisputed letters.

Part One (5–39), on creation, includes two chapters. The first (“The Apostle of Creation,” 7–23) argues that “the creator God, distinct from his creation, is the fundamental conception within Paul’s thought” (20). Ware faults those who minimize the role of creation in Paul and those who have recently portrayed the apostle as something of a polytheist (Ware cites Paula Fredriksen and Bart Ehrman). To be sure, Ware says, Paul believes very much in other spiritual, invisible powers, but the important dividing line is not between the visible and invisible realms, but between creator and creation. In this sense, there is very much only one God, the Creator, for Paul, and this God was different from the other gods on offer in the ancient world. The second chapter (24–39) Ware titles, “The Good News of the Fall.” While pagan worldviews generally took human nature to be flawed and, in one way or another, sought to cope with that reality, Paul instead “offered the promise of a pitch-dark world made shining and luminous once again” (35). In this chapter Ware also gives a brief theological anthropology. For the apostle, we are designed by God to be composite beings: “Body and soul were made for each other” (28).

Part Two (41–91) is the most distinctive section of Paul’s Theology in Context. In it, Ware turns to the incarnation. Chapter 3 (43–61) sketches “The Two Streams of Expectation” in Jewish thought of Paul’s day. The first is well known: the hope for a Davidic messiah. The second is less discussed, but Ware takes to be “the truly central key to [Paul’s] Christology” (51): the hope that YHWH would dwell among his people. The incarnation “at one stroke resolved the mysterious and seemingly irresolvable conflict between the two streams” because, for the apostle, Jesus was at once the human king from David’s line and Israel’s God living among his people. The following chapter (ch. 4, “Paul’s Gospel of the Incarnation,” 62–75) rebuts proposals Ware disagrees with. The pagan myths of gods becoming human are not that close. Paul did not have a “low Christology,” nor did he have a “high Christology” reserved only for the risen Christ. In fact, Ware goes so far as to say, “Nicene theology is the direct creation of Pauline incarnational theology” (74). Whereas the creator-creation distinction is the (mostly unstated) foundation of Paul’s theology (as noted above), Ware locates “The Epicenter of Paul’s Theology” (ch. 5, 76–91) to be the incarnation itself. Today participation is often suggested as the core of Paul’s thought, and while “almost right” (88) — most of the chapter concerns how believers do achieve union with the triune God through the work of Christ — Ware finds participation insufficiently Christological. The incarnation sums up the central hopes and convictions of Paul in the figure of Jesus himself.

Part Three (93–136) includes three chapters on the theme of covenant. Chapter 6 (“Paul and the Law in Full Perspective,” 95–112) is Ware’s concise take on Paul’s relation to the law, a topic that has animated much of Pauline scholarship for the past several decades. He navigates between the “new perspective” (as James Dunn), the “two covenants” approach (as Stanley Stowers), and a modified “old perspective” (as Simon Gathercole). For Ware, Ps 143:2 (“… for in your presence no living being is righteous”) is of decisive significance. Paul does not have a problem with the law per se, only when the law is understood apart from a wider covenantal, merciful relationship with God. According to chapter 7 (“The Covenant and the Cross,” 113–25), it is Jesus’s death that fulfills the Abrahamic Covenant and enacts the promised New Covenant, and this love of God differs markedly from the self-serving devotion sought by pagan deities. The covenant brings communion with God. It also brings justification (ch. 8, “Justification within the Covenant,” 126–36). In this chapter Ware avoids many traditional binaries: according to him, the “righteousness of God” is both God’s own righteousness and that given to humans; it is both our forgiveness and our sanctification. These aspects of “righteousness” can be distinguished but not separated in Paul.

In Part Four (137–97), Ware traces the effects of Jesus’s death and resurrection under the title “Kingdom.” Chapter 9 (“Easter in Ancient Context,” 139–57) indicates how the “good news” would have sounded in the ancient world. According to Ware, bodily death was final among the pagans, even if some believed in a spiritual afterlife or cycles of reincarnation. At the same time, there are indications of a yearning for the final victory of life over death. This is what the Jewish God promised, and Paul proclaimed that Jesus Christ accomplished. Chapter 10 (“The Resurrection of the Body in Paul’s Gospel,” 158–74) is on 1 Corinthians 15. Against those who see Paul advocating a non-physical or ethereal body, Ware defends the traditional understanding of a bodily resurrection. He notes that the body is the subject across 1 Cor 15:36–54 (e.g., “is sown in decay” but “raised in glory”), and that the verb egeirō means “to raise” in the sense of “to sit or stand up,” not in the sense of “to ascend.” Thus, Paul is picturing our current bodies being renewed and standing up from the grave, not our souls ascending to heaven and being given a fundamentally different type of body. Chapters 11 (175–82) and 12 (183–97) turn from the consummated kingdom (the topic of chs. 9–10) to the inaugurated one that believers now inhabit. Ware relates the future hope to “The New Life” and “The New Law,” respectively. The former concerns topics like a Christian’s new status, the sacraments, and discipleship, and the latter is on Pauline ethics, applied especially to Christian love and sexuality. In chapter 12 Ware also distinguishes the law of Moses from that of Christ; he writes, “although Christ followers fulfill the righteous requirements of the law of Moses, they do not follow the law of Moses. They follow the new law of Christ” (183).

What remains of the book is something of a historical appendix. Part Five (199–233), “Paul and Christian Origins,” places Paul within a wider scope of early Christianity. Its first chapter (ch. 13, “The Gospel of the Eyewitnesses,” 201–16) contends that the earliest Christians were united in quickly according Jesus an exalted status. Ware presents 1 Cor 15:1–11 as his key evidence. Coordinating with the timeline Paul gives of his own life in Galatians 1–2, Ware trances this confession about the resurrection back to within a year or two of Easter morning. The second chapter in this section, and the final one of the book, is “Paul and Peter among the Apostles” (ch. 14, 217–33). Far from the factious beginning of Christianity that some reconstruct, Ware envisions an “apostolic college” working collaboratively with each other (218). The chapter title suggests a primacy of Paul and Peter, but at other times Ware places James (the brother of Jesus) and John (the disciple) among the “inner circle” (224), too. The authority of these four, in fact, radiates into most of the New Testament, as Ware places all but one of the twenty-seven books within the orbit of one of these apostles. (In addition to the books attributed to each of the figures, Ware associates Luke, Acts, and Hebrews with Paul; Mark with Peter; and Jude with James; and he links the “John” of Revelation with the anonymous author[s] of the Fourth Gospel and its Epistles.) Paul was no rogue, according to Ware. He was one of the central two-to-four inner apostles, and he was advancing a common cause with the others.

Paul’s Theology in Context is a useful guide to the apostle’s thought. I enjoyed reading the book. The prose is lively, and I learned a number of things from Ware. It will be especially welcome to Christians who believe that the later orthodox Christianity of the ecumenical councils basically got Paul right. Ware reads all thirteen letters as informing the historical Paul, and he reconstructs an apostle who believes in the Trinity and defends the bodily resurrection, among other matters. Ware’s portrait of Paul reminds me particularly of N.T. Wright’s, and, indeed, from the start Ware acknowledges his debts to Wright (3 n. 6). While it is hard to produce a definitive list of Paul’s central themes, creation, incarnation, covenant, and kingdom are certainly all defensible choices, and they provide a reliable way to organize the apostle’s thought. His twofold task of hearing Paul’s message against its Jewish and gentile background is wise, as well. From my perspective, the most distinctive and valuable aspect of this work is Ware’s attention to Buddhist and Hindu sages, which he demonstrates were known and read in the first century Roman Empire. Additionally, Ware’s lists of primary sources are long and diverse. His book also brims with interesting observations. For one example, on Rom 3:23 (“for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God”), Ware corrects that idea that “fall short” indicates that we come up short morally. This is true enough, from Ware’s perspective, but not the point here. Instead, hystereō means that we are “destitute or bereft of the glory of God” (32). It is a lament, not an accusation. For another, his defense of the bodily resurrection in 1 Corinthians 15 (in ch. 10) is innovative, noting details in the text I, at least, had heretofore missed.

At the same time, I doubt that Ware will win over many who are not predisposed to agree with him. His ambition at times outstrips the evidence he has space to marshal. Some scholars will balk at the very mention of a thirteen-letter collection, despite his assurances that nothing hinges on it. Others will worry about anachronism given, as I have noted already, that Ware’s Paul so neatly matches the creeds that would come hundreds of years after his death. (Indeed, in chapter 5, Paul is not only a good Trinitarian, but even a Western one: “The mystery of the Trinity, in which the Father begets the Son, and the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son, is the foundation that underlies Paul’s participatory theology, 87!) Again, in chapter 6, Ware makes “admittedly a rather bold claim” that he has solved the debate between the old and new perspectives on Paul (96). In all these cases, I am not saying he is wrong to advance these positions. Other scholars have done so — as, for example, Matthew Bates has for a “Nicene” Paul in Hermeneutics of Apostolic Proclamation (2012). Rather, I merely imply that it would be impossible for Ware to prove these points within the scope of about twenty pages, which is roughly what he devotes to each of these controversial topics. But perhaps this critique demands too much of the book. After all, Ware writes for only secondarily for a scholarly audience.

I would recommend Paul’s Theology in Context especially for pastors and those in theological training at a master’s level. Although Ware seeks to write for a lay audience, as well, his book would significantly stretch those with only undergraduate studies in the Bible, let alone those with no academic theology. Because he has aimed higher than he meant, though, I would commend this as a resource for scholars. It is not the last word on any subject, but it is one coherent and stimulating organization of Paul’s theology.

Timothy A. Gabrielson

Sterling College

Review of Say It!: Celebrating Expository Preaching in the African American Tradition edited by Eric C. Redmond

Review of Say It!: Celebrating Expository Preaching in the African American Tradition edited by Eric C. Redmond

Redmond, Eric C. ed. Say It!: Celebrating Expository Preaching in the African American Tradition. Chicago: Moody, 2020, 240 pages, $14.99, paperback.

Say It!

What does the Great Migration have to do with exposition? Much! The Black Church in the United States has a beautiful yet painful history. The African American preaching tradition arose in this context, producing notable preachers including John Jasper, Richard Allen, Francis J. Grimké, Martin Luther King, Jr., Gardner C. Taylor, James Earl Massey, and E. K. Bailey. Historically, African American preaching has been underresearched and underpublished. However, times are changing, and homiletical treasures are being unearthed and offered to Christ’s people. Eric C. Redmond (Ph.D., Capital Seminary and Graduate School) has assembled a top-notch lineup of African American homileticians in Say It! to “demonstrate the power of exposition in the cradle of the black pulpit” (back cover). Redmond is a Professor of Bible at Moody Bible Institute and an Associate Pastor of Preaching, Teaching, and Care at Calvary Memorial Church in Oak Park, IL. He has published several books and articles, including Where Are All the Brothers? Straight Answers to Men’s Questions About the Church (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2008) and Christ-Centered Exposition: Jonah (Nashville, TN: Holman Reference, 2016).

In the preface, Charlie E. Dates gives a taste of the riches of studying black preaching. Dates says, “One can learn much from a tradition of preaching that emerged from the transatlantic diaspora, is baptized in suffering, is sophisticated in rhetorical harmony, and yet proclaims salvation to the land of its own captivity” (p. 14). Dates suggests the African American hermeneutic and homiletic will assist preachers in a country that has witnessed Christianity move from the center to the margins.

In the introduction, Redmond shows embracing the African American preaching tradition does not diminish one’s ability to offer expositional preaching. Redmond believes there has been a misunderstanding—some have wrongly thought expositional preaching was the property of one culture. For example, a notable change can take place when a young African American is called to preach and enters an evangelical Bible college or seminary for training: “The people who have sent this young preacher to school no longer identify with the preacher’s sermon content” (p. 22). At times the young preacher develops “a growing disdain for what he believes is ‘the simplistic, unsophisticated’ preaching of the black church” (p. 23). Is it possible to preach expositionally and embrace one’s ethnic culture and preaching tradition?

A significant homiletical question arises: Is expository preaching a matter of form or content? After surveying definitions of exposition from Bryan Chapell, Albert Mohler, and Haddon Robinson, Redmond asserts, “Expository preaching concerns only the content of a message with respect to the words of Scripture and its accurate delivery” (p. 26). Since there is no requirement for a specific style of expression, the preacher is released from any burden to communicate the message in a particular style.

The rest of the book divides into four sections. Part 1 discusses the hermeneutics of African American preaching. In chapter 1, Winfred Neely shows the African American experience has molded preachers in this tradition to be sensitive to some biblical themes the evangelical world neglects. In chapters 2 and 3, Redmond and Ernest Gray show that though some are more difficult than others, all of the books of the OT and NT “are readily accessible and relevant for one to preach” (p. 57). Part 2 gives five sermons from each of the four major sections of the OT—the Pentateuch (George Parks, Jr.), Historical Books (Redmond), Poetical Books (Eric Mason), and Prophetic Books (Terry D. Streeter and Dates). Part 3 gives three sermons from three divisions of the NT—the Gospels and Acts (Romell Williams), the Epistles (Paul Felix), and Revelation (K. Edward Copeland). Finally, Redmond argues for lectio continua preaching in part 4. He asserts, “The best way to give our people the wealth of the truth of Christ for all aspects of their lives is to preach through full books of the Bible as the majority of the regular diet of our preaching” (218).

This book is commendable for at least three reasons. First, the authors demonstrate the African American preaching tradition and exposition go together more than some have assumed. The Black Church is not monolithic, and not all her ministers are considered expositors. Nevertheless, many of her ministers are excellent expositors. Students from all traditions will glean much from these expositors of the African American tradition. Readers will see how these preachers communicate the passage’s meaning and apply the ancient text to their listeners’ current, contextual realities.

Second, the chapters Redmond contributed to this volume were clear and practical. In the introduction, Redmond makes a clear case for the wedding of the African American preaching tradition and exposition while highlighting the dual emphases of justice and hope. In chapter 2, “A Ladder, A Mediator, and an Ark: The Challenge of Old Testament Exposition,” he shows preachers have nothing to fear when they preach from the OT. Students will find his hermeneutical discussion of genre and his exegetical insights of Genesis 28:10–22, Exodus 2:11–24, and Psalm 24 accessible and applicable. In chapter 5, Redmond gives a solid example of a sermon from an OT Historical Book, Joshua 14:6–15, and his pastoral insights at the end of the chapter are beneficial to preachers. Finally, in chapter 12, Redmond makes a convincing case for preaching through books of the Bible as the best way for preachers to model sound hermeneutical principles and give their congregations Christ from all the Scriptures.

Third, readers will find the sermon examples one of the book’s biggest strengths. Good preaching is both caught and taught. These sermons illustrate sound exposition in print form and will be helpful as examples to aspiring preachers. Doubtless, readers will miss out on the special delivery of these sermons, though, thankfully, internet technology allows for listening to sermons from these expositors. Each manuscript has an introduction and conclusion, which will prove particularly useful to aspiring preachers. Here, the preacher gives the context of preaching and homiletical insights.

There are a couple of areas readers should note. First, while the sermon examples were helpful, not every sermon given was a Christ-centered exposition. Due to hermeneutical and homiletical convictions, some preachers have different views about whether and how to preach Christ from the OT. Here, not every brother felt compelled to mention Jesus from an OT text or explain the gospel with clarity, which seemed out of step with Redmond’s Christ-centered advocacy (pgs. 217–218).

Second, readers should think through the definition, purpose, and method of expository preaching. What happens—or should!—when a preacher stands up with a Bible in front of a congregation? There is much to praise God for with the recent resurgence in expository preaching. The sermons of many professing expositors, however, reveal there is little consensus about what expository preaching means. Redmond’s definition of exposition, like Haddon Robinson’s, defines exposition more broadly than others. He places a greater emphasis on contextualization and speaking to the contemporary issues of the congregation. While some homileticians may define exposition more narrowly than Redmond and the sermons illustrate, this book will provoke constructive questions: How much should the text’s structure shape the sermon? What is the part of the preacher in advocating for social change? What is the Spirit’s role in exposition?

The body of Christ is beautiful in its diversity. While various traditions have different strengths and weaknesses, this book demonstrates this tradition has much to offer biblical and theological students and pastors. Here, readers engage with hermeneutics, exegesis, and application principles and see examples from the African American preaching tradition. After completing this book, readers may want greater exposure to this homiletical heritage. If so, they can join a bus tour through the history of the tradition in Introduction to the Practice of African American Preaching by Frank A. Thomas (Nashville, TN: Abingdon, 2016). Indeed, Students and pastors of any part of Christ’s body should read this book to learn how to Say It! well.

Scott Lucky

Parkway Baptist Church

Clinton, MS

Review of The Royal Priesthood and the Glory of God by David S. Schrock

Review of The Royal Priesthood and the Glory of God by David S. Schrock

Schrock, David S. The Royal Priesthood and the Glory of God. Short Studies in Biblical Theology. Edited by Dane C. Ortlund and Miles V. Van Pelt. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2022, pp. 199, $14.99, paperback.

Royal Priesthood

David Schrock is the Pastor of Preaching and Theology at Occoquan Bible Church in Woodbridge, Virginia. Dr. Schrock earned both his MDiv and PhD in systematic theology from The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. His dissertation is titled, “A Biblical-Theological Investigation of Christ’s Priesthood and Covenant Mediation with Respect to the Extent of the Atonement.” He is an Adjunct Professor of Systematic Theology at Indianapolis Theological Seminary, Boyce College, The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, and, formerly, Crossroads Bible College. Dr. Schrock is also an Associate Fellow for the Ethics and Religious Liberties Commission of the Southern Baptist Convention.

The Royal Priesthood and the Glory of God by David S. Schrock is a modest monograph about how the glory of God is fully revealed in the royal priesthood of Christ. This abbreviated work of biblical theology focuses on the biblical theme of priesthood to demonstrate how God’s glory is revealed in Christ’s righteousness expressed through the biblical concept of the priesthood. In an introduction, six chapters, and an epilogue, Schrock works through all of Scripture by sections to illustrate how the concept of royal priests is both central to understanding the metanarrative of Scripture and finds ultimate fulfillment in Christ. Like a classical work of biblical theology, Schrock works from the beginning of Scripture to the end, focusing on the development of the concept of biblical priesthood as Scripture unfolds.

In his introduction Schrock writes that the glory of God in the Exodus cannot be fully realized apart from the revelation of Christ in the New Testament (p. 15). Schrock states, “through the various phases of Christ’s priesthood, the glory of God is fully revealed” (p. 16). God’s glory, Schrock contends, is revealed through Christ’s “ministry of righteousness” whereby Christ grants righteousness to His people through “covenantal obedience, sacrificial death, victorious relationship, and heavenly intercession” (p. 16). Schrock claims that priesthood is central to redemptive history and the concept of glory, and this becomes Schrock’s core contention throughout the book (pp. 16-17). Schrock states, “The aim of this book is to study the priesthood so that we might delight more fully in the glory of God’s Son, our great high priest. Moreover, by learning the history and purpose of priesthood in the Bible, we will better understand God’s work in redemption” (p. 17). Schrock concludes the introduction by claiming, “In all, this book will chronicle the hard-but-ultimately-happy history of God’s royal priesthood. At the end of our journey, we will find a vision of royal priests worshiping God and serving alongside Jesus Christ” (p. 25).

One important and interesting point of focus for Schrock’s biblical theology of priesthood is the contention that God created mankind to be His priests in creation. Schrock claims that Adam and Eve were created to serve as God’s first royal priests to creation (p. 27). Schrock argues that the Garden of Eden was intended to be the sanctuary where Adam was placed to serve as a form of priest responsible for tending to God’s requirements, like the Levitical priests would do with the tabernacle or the temple later in Israel’s history (pp. 28-29). Schrock also claims that the Garden of Eden is reflected in the pattern of the tabernacle or temple with the outside world serving as the courtyard, the Garden serving as the Holy Place, and the top of God’s Mountain as the Most Holy Place (p. 29). Thus, Schrock suggests the purpose of mankind, created in the image of God according to Genesis 1:26-27, is to “mediate God’s presence” to all of creation as royal priests.

Schrock contends that Adam, the Patriarchs, and Moses all served the function of priests despite lacking the formal title. Schrock acknowledges that neither Adam, the Patriarchs, nor Moses were referred to as priests while they each lived, yet he argues they are all described in priestly terms, given priestly duties, and some were even referred to as priests later in Scripture (pp. 44-45, 53-54). Ultimately, according to Schrock, all these figures prefigure the supremacy of Christ as High Priest who reveals God’s glory completely (pp. 16, 23).

While not the focal point of the book, Schrock places an important emphasis on the role of the sacrificial system within the greater cultic system of worship in the Old Testament. Schrock notes how the cultic practice of sacrifice was introduced into the system of worship carried out by priests resulting from mankind’s fall into sin chronicled in Genesis 3 (p. 28). Schrock argues about the centrality of the sacrificial system to the duty of priests, saying, “every form of worship in the Old Testament centers on the priests and their sacrificial duties” (p. 68). In Chapter 5, Schrock notes how the sacrifice of Christ Jesus is the focal point of the Gospels and illustrate Jesus performing both the role of the high priest who makes the sacrifice on behalf of the people as well as the sacrificial lamb who dies for the sins of the people (p. 134-140). Through Christ’s dual role as the high priest and the lamb of God, Jesus fulfills the necessity of the sacrificial system and enables His followers to serve God once again as royal priests bearing His image to the world and reflecting His glory to creation (pp. 157-159).

While there are already some very good and helpful resources in the field of biblical studies (and, more specifically, the field of biblical theology) pertaining to the concept of the biblical priesthood, Schrock’s The Royal Priesthood and the Glory of God is an immensely helpful entry point for both “newbies” to the Bible and seasoned students of Scripture alike. Biblical-theological students will be challenged to examine the concept of biblical priesthood in a new light that will encourage their understanding of priests, the Law, the Levitical system, and the role Christ serves as the true High Priest. This is not a technical work on the biblical priesthood, though it is more thorough than a survey of what the Bible has to say on the subject. Further, this is not an in-depth treatment of biblical theology, though it is a sufficient one (the series this book belongs to is, after all, titled “Short Studies in Biblical Theology”). This book is a fresh take on a complicated and ancient system of worship that helps that complicated and ancient system make sense and, most importantly, unveils Scripture’s teaching on it in a way that both reveals Christ’s prominence in the system and how God is glorified through it all.

Andrew McIntyre

Liberty University John W. Rawlings School of Divinity

Sweet Home Community Chapel, Sweet Home, Oregon

Review of God’s Mediators: A Biblical Theology of Priesthood by Andrew S. Malone

Review of The Royal Priesthood and the Glory of God by David S. Schrock

Andrew S. Malone. God’s Mediators: A Biblical Theology of Priesthood. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 2017, pp. 230, $25.00, paperback.

God's Mediators

Andrew S. Malone serves as Lecturer in Biblical Studies and Dean of Ridley Online at Ridley College, Melbourne, Australia.

In God’s Mediators, Malone develops an expositional and synthetic biblical theology of the theme of priesthood, studying both individual and corporate priestly identities and work across the canon so as to “augment and refine our existing knowledge, reinforce or reshape our theological framework, and make us better expositors of the texts and their consequences for God’s holy people” (p. 10). He contends, specifically, that Christians struggle to define priests and priesthood in a manner following the patterns of the biblical witness (pp. 8–9; 186–187). Malone descriptively surveys, therefore, the biblical landscape for individual priests, starting with Aaron’s and his sons’ mediation at Sinai with an important focus on “the kingdom of priests” found in Exodus 19:5–6 as a royal priesthood (pp. 16–17, 126). His survey of the Aaronic priesthood, ultimately, establishes a baseline to consider implications for 1) Israel’s corporate priesthood, 2) Jesus’ priesthood, and 3) the nature of the church’s corporate priesthood. He labels the Aaronic priesthood by its status of (unearned) holiness (pp. 130–133) that allows for a safe approach to God and mediation to draw others closer to God (pp. 20, 35, 45–46). Thus, Israel’s corporate priesthood sets the whole nation as a mediator for those beyond itself (pp. 126–136): a graded and missiological holiness (pp. 20, 45–46, 134–137). Ultimately, the failures of individual priests and the corporate priesthood pave the way for a greater priest (pp. 125–126, 137–144). For Malone, the NT, and especially Hebrews, transforms the OT categories of the Aaronic priesthood to teach “Jesus as our great high priest who facilitates everything foreshadowed in the earthly [OT] cultic system” (p. 114). He posits that both “Jesus’ individual priesthood and Christians’ corporate priesthood are derived from closely related Old Testament antecedents, but they are not derived in the same fashion (p. 184).” Malone argues that the NT transforms the graded holiness of the OT because Jesus’ priestly ministry provides an access to God that needs no other priest “to facilitate [further] access” (p. 186), mark[ing] believers as beneficiaries of the altar and sacrifice rather than as contributors to them” (p. 170) Christians’ corporate priesthood, therefore, depends on and “respond[s] to God’s grace with ‘sacrificial’ praise and acts of service (p. 172),” not with sacerdotal contributions that forge access to God, leaving the church with a spiritual priesthood that allows the church “to be and to behave in such a holy – God-worthy manner – fashion that the wider nations are brought to join the worship of the universe’s creator (emphasis original) (p. 178).”

In chapter 1, Malone lays out his problem and methodology. His approach to priests and priesthood “invoke[s] the English concept of ‘mediator’ and/or ‘mediation’ (p. 9)” in a rather broad sense because the primary thrust of his thesis and analysis is descriptive.

In Part 1, Malone focuses on individual priesthood, beginning with chapter 2’s look at the mediation of Aaron and his sons. Malone argues for an Aaronic priesthood whose ministry emphasizes a “[s]afe approach to God in response to the terrifying theophany at the mountain and the Tabernacle’s “concentration of God’s presence in creation” (p. 18) Even Aaron’s clothes mark his status and those of his sons’ as closer to God, reflecting a priestly royalty (pp. 24–25) that facilitates holiness (pp. 28–34) and communicates such (p. 38) to forge “successful reconciliation of humanity to God (emphasis original)” (p. 38).

Malone, then, in chapter 3 draws the reader to a discussion of the garden of Eden and priests before Sinai. Adam’s depiction corresponds to priestly work, even a regal priesthood that anticipates the Aaronic priesthood. He, also, focuses on Melchizedek as a priestly king, showing how these two roles work together (p. 63) before depicting Moses himself as a priest (pp. 65–66).

In chapter 4, Malone tackles individual priesthood in the rest of the Old Testament, beginning with the failures of the golden calf. His broad definition of “priest” ultimately highlights the prophets condemning the Israelite priesthood and promising a restored priesthood of Israelites and foreigners (86–96).

In chapter 5, Malone finishes Part 1 of his study of individual priests by examining new covenant transformation. He asserts that the failed Israelite priesthood continues in NT narrative (97–102). Finding little support for Jesus’ depiction as a priest in the gospels, he leans upon Hebrews’ confession of Jesus as high priest that uses a combination of comparisons and contrasts, a “synkrisis [that] inherently relies upon the unfolding developments found in salvation history and progressive revelation (115).” He further supports Jesus’ perfect priesthood in Revelation and in 1 Peter (116–120).

In Part 2, beginning with chapter 6, Malone considers Israel’s corporate priesthood as a kingdom of priests so as to draw closer to understanding how the Aaronic priesthood relates to corporate Israel, Jesus, and corporate Christians (125–126). In particular, he focuses on Exodus 19:5–6’s “kingdom of priests” to reinforce Israel’s holy status for the benefit of the world. Israel’s priestly mediation is missiological (134–137). Unfortunately, Israel does not live consistently with its holy status (137–144).

In chapter 7, Malone pivots to the church’s priestly commission as a spiritual house with spiritual sacrifices, a principle that he again tethers to Exodus 19:5–6 via 1 Peter 2:9–10. He develops this corporate priesthood as a chosen people from all the nations with a holy and special status before God that grants their role as priests with behaviors consistent with this status (137–153). Turning to Revelation, Malone identifies the church’s corporate priesthood as both inaugurated and regal, ministering so that the nations may worship God (161–163). Hebrews regards the church as beneficiaries of Jesus’ priesthood (164–170), approaching God to walk in spiritual sacrifices of “praise and acts of service (172).”

Malone concludes his work in chapter 8 with final reflections that draw out biblical implications for how individual and corporate priesthoods work “under the old covenant and after new-covenant transformation (182).” He extends these insights into ecclesiological and missiological components that challenge churches to walk in its assigned priesthood.

Malone succeeds in defending his descriptive-focused thesis. His examination of priesthood connects categories across the two canons and provides consistent and sufficient evidence for the patterns described. Pastors and scholars will strengthen their understanding of the church’s dependence on Jesus’ priesthood and the corresponding call to walk in a missiological mediation through this book. Also, this volume prepares for more detailed and more prescriptive examinations of its data. It offers clearly aligned relationships of priesthoods, but its study proves a mere starting point, being embedded with unanswered questions beyond this volume’s scope. Thus, its greatest weakness in the limiting of its scope that made the study useful on so many levels also leaves readers with a desire to resolve these same questions. Such answers will hopefully stem from other works that will draw from this resource that will enable churches and denominations to examine their own understandings of priesthood in light of the whole biblical corpus.

Peter Link, Jr.

Charleston Southern University

Review of Dating Acts in its Jewish and Greco-Roman Contexts by Karl L. Armstrong

Review of Dating Acts in its Jewish and Greco-Roman Contexts by Karl L. Armstrong

Armstrong, Karl L. Dating Acts in its Jewish and Greco-Roman Contexts. LNTS 637. London: T&T Clark, 2021, pp. 229, $115.00, hardback.

Dating Acts

The emergent consensus that Acts was written post-70 CE but pre-90 CE is not much more than “political compromise” says Karl L. Armstrong in Dating Acts (p. 3): fraught with methodological and interpretive problems; Armstrong received his PhD (Christian Theology) from McMaster Divinity College in Hamilton, Ontario Canada, and Dating Acts is a revised form of his PhD dissertation there under Dr. Stanley E. Porter.  According to Armstrong, the re-asserters of a late (post-100 CE) date for Acts—a growing minority—fare no better than the current consensus, given as they seem to be to ideological literary theories which, while commendably creative, have not come to grips with the powerful traditional arguments for an early date of Acts made in days gone by. In Dating Acts, Armstrong demonstrates these assertions and completely re-founds a case for the early date of Acts (à la Rackham) in light of contemporary historiography and linguistics.

Summary: Following his introduction (summarized above), Armstrong offers a chapter on historiographical method (chapter 2) and advances a series of principles which define the procedure of the study: for selecting and interpreting sources, defining facts and events, and for drawing relevant textual conclusions (pp. 29–33). The proposition to be defended: in light of the relevant evidence, it can be plausibly shown that Acts was written before 64 CE (~ 62–63 CE).

Asking the question as to how one’s theory of sources impacts one’s view of the date of Acts (chapter three), Armstrong eschews notions that Acts is a pastiche reducible to literary sources and invention, and defends the notion that the author relied on personal memory and eyewitness and written sources; common areas of discussion (the prologue; the “we” passages) are treated here. Armstrong also employs linguistic and text-critical examination of the relevant texts in support of two major source theories which would seem push the date of Acts later: that the author of Acts depended on the Pauline corpus (mentioned below), and/or on the works of Josephus, and finds both wanting (chapter four).

The treatment of the end of Acts is the capital contribution of the monograph and spans much of its content (chapters five through eight). The traditional hypothesis—that the author narrated only what he knew, and thus that key omissions demonstrate that Acts was likely written before the omitted events occurred—is defended with new rigor. In addition to offering a history of interpretation (chapter 5), Armstrong appeals to papyrological and historiographical data to set Acts 28:17–28 in its Jewish historical context (hopefulness is projected with respect to a Jewish response to Paul, consistent with a pre-70 AD date; chapter six), Acts 28:11–31 in its papyrological context (the Western text helps to demonstrate the earliness of the text; chapter seven), and the end of Acts ultimately in its Greco-Roman context (the omission of key socio-political events of Roman history move the date back even more concretely before 64 CE; chapter eight).

Evaluation: A critical point of framing in the methodology of the monograph is that Armstrong demonstrates that any treatment of Acts as ancient historiography demands a treatment of its date—there are too many relevant and important reliably datable events to be ignored (the reign of Nero, the fire in Rome, the death of Paul, the Jewish war, the destruction of the temple). At the same time Armstrong also demonstrates that those looking to examine the date of Acts must do so informed not only by ancient history, but also by contemporary historiography (pp. 23–9). This is commendable, yet those familiar with the field might wish that there was more explicit interaction with particular historiographical methods or models: for example, are there particular historical methods, or considerations of historical epistemology, which would further aid the case? It is implied throughout but not made explicit here.

With respect to source-critical issues, it is commendable that Armstrong interacts primarily with the classic work of Jacques Dupont (but also especially Cadbury) and in so doing shows that some important insights of Dupont have not been properly emphasized (pp. 69–73). It builds confidence in the reader that the author is not merely relying upon secondary literature (in this case, of secondary literature) but is dealing with his sources themselves. In an over-saturated field, the solution is perhaps not to rely on this or that summative work, but to identify key and classic works and to be well-familiar with them.

As regards the specific source-critical issues of the author’s dependency on the Pauline corpus and/or Josephus, while it is noted that the latter view is more determinative for dating Acts, the options available on the Pauline-dependency thesis could have been spelled out in greater detail since in theory there could have been dependence on an early letter collection (thus not demanding a late-date). Admittedly, however, this would have meant an excursus on the whole topic of Paul as a letter-writer and of the Pauline letter collection.

As regards the monograph’s major contribution, it is praiseworthy that Armstrong devotes a chapter to a history of interpretation. This is in keeping with good historiography (and is a tacit consensus amongst pre-modern, modern, and post-modern historians/philosophers of history), as one cannot situate oneself properly with respect to a historical interpretation of a matter if one does not consider how that matter has come down to the present in the published literature of historians. This sets the stage for the major contribution, and if this historiographical point was spelled out explicitly (even touched upon in the methodology chapter) there would have been a sense of even greater coherence when arriving at this chapter.

Also as regards the major undercurrent of argumentation in chapters six through eight, the reasoning throughout could have been made stronger by appeal to the philosophical/historiographical literature as to just how strong certain formulations of argumentum ex silentio can be. For example, it could be asserted (as some have) that other ancient authors (like Thucydides) do not conclude events ostensibly important to them (like the Peloponnesian war) even while they know the outcome. Armstrong considers such points made by middle-position scholars (i.e., those who date Acts post-70 but pre-90 CE), and he does mention the argument from silence (p. 114 and n. 17), but as it is the main counter-argument to his primary contribution there could have been more explicit appeal to philosophical and logical reasoning here (see for example Timothy McGrew, “The Argument from Silence” Acta Analytica 29 [2014] 215–28). However, this is clearly implicit and the data marshalled is compelling.

Considerations: Armstrong’s chapter two will be a particular benefit to read because of its treatment of contemporary historiography. A course is (briefly) charted through the conflicting seas of hard-empiricist historiography and poststructuralist historiography, and the benefit here concerns how these theoretical considerations in the philosophy of history can aid in the outline of an approach and model for defining, selecting, and interpreting evidence. In this light, those who want to see how a project informed by historiography (and especially attentive to issues of language and text) can be undertaken for New Testament studies will benefit.

Those interested in examining the evidence for an early date of Acts (or defending this position) will be greatly helped by the volume. Armstrong is invariably fair to his sources and demonstrates the claims he makes with the kind of varied evidence one expects of a New Testament scholar. In one sense, a sub-highlight of the book is something of the exposé it offers of consensus position.

Ultimately, Dating Acts is a learned shot-across-the-bow with respect to the middling consensus and the more radical emerging minority of late-daters; none dare ignore it.

Nathan Nadeau

McMaster Divinity College

Review of Calvin, the Bible, and History: Exegesis and Historical Reflection in the Era of Reform by Barbara Pitkin

Review of Calvin, the Bible, and History: Exegesis and Historical Reflection in the Era of Reform by Barbara Pitkin

Pitkin, Barbara. Calvin, the Bible, and History: Exegesis and Historical Reflection in the Era of Reform. New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2020, pp. xii + 250, £64.00, hardback.

Calvin

Barbara Pitkin is Senior Lecturer in Religious Studies at Stanford University, where she teaches on the history of Christian thought, including the sixteenth-century reformations and the history of biblical interpretation. She is the author of What Pure Eyes Could See: Calvin’s Doctrine of Faith in its Exegetical Context (OUP, 1999), editor of Semper Reformanda: Calvin, Worship, and Reformed Traditions (V&R, 2018), and co-editor with Wim Janse of The Formation of Clerical and Confessional Identities in Early Modern Europe (Brill, 2006). Pitkin also serves as an editor for the Sixteenth Century Journal and is a former president of the Calvin Studies Society. 

In Calvin, the Bible, and History, Pitkin investigates Calvin’s biblical exegesis through a series of case studies and seeks to show how he was consistently historically attuned. Though Pitkin argues that Calvin was not a historian per se, she demonstrates that Calvin was an astute exponent of the Bible as history. Chapter 1 functions as the book’s introduction, which summarises, in broad terms, how Calvin’s biblical interpretation was influenced by exegetical tradition, his legal and humanist studies, and the social and political context in Geneva and beyond; it outlines key features of Calvin’s interpretative approach, such as his commitment to ‘lucid brevity’ (p. 17) and the unity of scripture; and it sketches the trajectory for the book’s remaining chapters. Chapter 2 examines Calvin’s reception of Paul, including both his epistles and his appearances in the book of Acts. Pitkin shows that, for Calvin, Paul’s theology (especially as articulated in Romans) was the key to understanding the rest of scripture. Chapter 3 then examines Calvin’s treatment of John’s Gospel. Calvin’s historicizing approach meant that he rejected earlier commentators’ assumption (informed by fourth-century Christological debates) that the primary purpose of the gospel was to communicate doctrine concerning Christ’s divinity. Instead, Calvin emphasised its soteriological themes. From Chapter 4 onwards, Pitkin pivots her focus towards the Old Testament. Chapter 4 focuses on Calvin’s treatment of David in the Psalms, who he saw as a model for Protestant faith. Chapter 5 convincingly argues that Calvin read Isaiah’s prophetic message to Israel’s exiles as a mirror for his own sixteenth-century context. This fascinating chapter — which, for this reader, was one of the highlights of the book — illuminates how sixteenth-century experiences of exile informed Calvin’s readings of the prophets in profound ways. In Chapter 6, Pitkin discusses Calvin’s exegesis of Daniel and shows that Calvin eschewed eschatological interpretations of Daniel’s prophecies, preferring to see them as being historically fulfilled in Christ’s first advent with their contemporary significance drawn out by way of analogy. Chapter 7 focuses on Calvin’s harmony of Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy, drawing attention to how trends in early modern historiography informed this work. Finally, Chapter 8 compares Calvin’s expositions on 2 Samuel, delivered against the backdrop of the French Wars of Religion, with François Hotman’s Consolatio è sacris litteris, emphasising their mutual commitment to ‘sacred history’. The book closes with an epilogue, outlining the main contributions of this book and potential avenues for future research.

There is much to commend in Calvin, the Bible, and History. By focusing so intently on Calvin’s historicizing approach, Pitkin illuminates an important and unifying theme of Calvin’s exegesis. She convincingly shows that while he handled different biblical genres with distinct emphases, and was frequently conscious of his text’s application to his contemporary context, he was nonetheless absolutely committed to upholding the importance of a historical reading of the Bible. Indeed, Pitkin rightly notes that even when Calvin engaged in typological exegesis (an approach widely used by early modern Reformed exegetes) he did so without relinquishing a clear sense of his passage’s own historical context. In fact, she argues that this historicizing impulse is so pronounced that ‘few if any were as consistent’, as Calvin, ‘in seeking to preserve the integrity and unity of that history – as Christian salvation history, to be sure, but history nonetheless’ (p. 4). Pitkin also helpfully shows how Calvin applied the biblical text to his sixteenth-century context, consistently but in varying ways, while maintaining his determined commitment to a historical interpretation of the biblical text.

While Pitkin admirably draws out these distinctive aspects of Calvin’s exegesis through her seven biblical case studies, one can still detect signs of the book’s origins as separate chapters and articles, originally published between 1993 and 2014 (p. x). In chapter 8, for example, where Pitkin engages in comparative analysis between Calvin’s sermons on 2 Samuel and Hotman’s Consolatio, she breaks from the preceding chapters’ more exclusive focus on Calvin’s exegesis, suggesting that they had originally been developed in different contexts. This observation is not intended as a criticism of the quality of Pitkin’s research — indeed, the comparison between Calvin and Hotman is illuminating it its own right — but it does serve to illustrate a slight unevenness of methodology, despite Pitkin’s overall success in drawing a unified line of argument throughout the book.

Notwithstanding this minor quibble, Calvin, the Bible, and History is a valuable resource for scholars of John Calvin, Reformation history, and the history of biblical interpretation. Pitkin’s careful and enlightening exploration of Calvin’s commitment to the ‘sacred histories’ provides an important glimpse into how and why Calvin handled distinct biblical genres in the manner that he did. While this book will primarily benefit researchers, students may also benefit from this work, especially from Pitkin’s discussion of Calvin’s reception of Paul in Chapter 2, which so compellingly demonstrates how Romans functioned for Calvin as a hermeneutical key for understanding the rest of scripture. Students at all levels would be well served by the insights offered by this chapter, which could profitably be read in isolation. That being said, students who are dipping their toe into scholarship on the Bible in the Reformation era for the first time may find chapters in volume 3 of the The New Cambridge History of the Bible (CUP, 2016) a more accessible starting point.

In the years to follow, we can hope for further research that builds on Calvin, the Bible, and History, but in the meantime those of us with interests in early modern biblical interpretation should be grateful to Pitkin for her careful and thorough exposition of Calvin’s commitment to history in his exegesis.

Russell Newton

The Faith Mission Bible College, Edinburgh

Review of Inscriptions from the World of the Bible: A Reader and Introduction to Old Northwest Semitic by Peter Bekins

Review of Inscriptions from the World of the Bible: A Reader and Introduction to Old Northwest Semitic by Peter Bekins

Bekins, Peter. Inscriptions from the World of the Bible: A Reader and Introduction to Old Northwest Semitic. Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Academic, 2020, pp 300, $79.95, hardback.

Inscriptions

If you know Biblical Hebrew, then you essentially know ancient Edomite, Moabite, Ammonite, and Phoenician. You can add those to your résumé. They are all basically the same language. The differences among them are rather minor. For example, the direct object marker in Hebrew and Moabite is ’t (aleph-tau), whereas in Phoenician (and Aramaic) it is ’yt (aleph-yodh-tau). A modern analogy might be English spoken in London, New York, Minnesota, and Georgia. Moreover, if you know Biblical Hebrew, then you are well on your way to a knowledge of Aramaic.

We should not think of Biblical Hebrew as a completely unique language all alone, as if it were per se a holy language. It was part of the common language spoken throughout the area of ancient Syria and Palestine. It was, you might say, part of the lingua franca of that area, much like the Koine Greek of the New Testament in the Greco-Roman world. There is a theological message here. The Creator chose to communicate with his human creatures in an everyday language, the kind of language spoken by everyday people at that time and place. He is not some secretive god with a mysterious code accessible to only a few cognoscenti. He is the transparent God who communicates in human language that is readily understandable.

The linguistic label for this language-group is Old Northwest Semitic. It consists of four major sub-languages: Phoenician, Hebrew, Moabite, and Aramaic. Peter Bekins has taught advanced Biblical Hebrew and Northwest Semitics at Hebrew Union College—Jewish Institute of Religion. With this textbook he provides a reliable, accessible, and well-organized introduction to old Northwest Semitic. Part I of the volume introduces students to old Northwest Semitic languages and their grammar, including phonology, morphology, and syntax. Part II then offers readings selected from Northwest Semitic inscriptions that date to the time of ancient Israel’s monarchy, basically from the time of King David (about the year 1000) to the Babylonian exile (the year 587). For each language Bekins provides the student with the text, explanatory notes on the words, a translation, and a glossary. The languages are: Old Phoenician, Old Hebrew, Moabite, and Old Aramaic. He treats separately texts from Deir Alla (east of the Jordan River north of Ammon and Moab) and the ancient kingdom of Samal (northern Syria) because of their distinctive linguistic features. At the end of the volume he includes a helpful bibliography.

Bekins made good choices with his selection of inscriptions. Each inscription has enough lines that the student can get the feel for the language. Several of the inscriptions have biblical connections. For example, a Hebrew inscription dated about the year 600 found at Ketef Hinnom near Jerusalem repeats the first two lines of the Aaronic benediction. Hebrew inscriptions from Kuntillet Ajrud in northern Sinai offer a blessing “by Yahweh and by his Asherah” (a goddess), giving evidence of the kind of syncretism condemned by the biblical authors. The Mesha inscription (Moabite Stone) correlates with 2 Kings 3. The Deir Alla inscriptions dated about 800-750 give a prophetic vision by Balaam son of Beor (compare Numbers 22-24). And there are other connections.

I highly recommend this book for students who have had beginning Hebrew. Knowledge of Biblical Aramaic is also helpful. Bekins does a great job of leading students into the fascinating world of inscriptions. The book will enable them to understand Biblical Hebrew and Aramaic in their linguistic context of old Northwest Semitic. As a side benefit, they can then impress their family and friends that they know Moabite.

Paul R. Raabe

Grand Canyon University

Review of The Story of Sacrifice: Ritual and Narrative in the Priestly Source by Liane M. Feldman

Review of The Story of Sacrifice: Ritual and Narrative in the Priestly Source by Liane M. Feldman

Feldman, Liane M. The Story of Sacrifice: Ritual and Narrative in the Priestly Source. Tübingen: Mohr Siebeck, 2020, pp. 245. 104€, hardback.

The Story of Sacrifice

Liane Feldman is Assistant Professor at New York University in the Skirball department of Hebrew and Judaic studies. Feldman earned her PhD from the University of Chicago Divinity School in Hebrew Bible and the ancient Near East.

In The Story of Sacrifice Professor Liane Feldman explores the “literary function” of the priestly ritual materials. Feldman is clear in the introduction that she intends to read and explain these ritual materials “as part of the story”, in conjunction with, not separated from their narrative setting (11-18). Her inquiry is simple: what happens when one assumes that the ritual and narrative texts in the Priestly source were intentionally placed together, and one chooses to read them as literature?

Feldman divides the book into six chapters: Introduction, Moses’s Private Audience: The Construction of Space in the Story World (Exod 40–Lev 7), Yahweh’s Public Performance: The Creation of a Cult (Lev 8:1–10:7), Inside and Outside: Yahweh’s Delineation of Boundaries (Lev 10:8–15:33; Num 7:1–8:4), The Possibility of Decontamination (Lev 16–17), and Conclusion. This review will summarize the book’s contents, follow with a critique, and end with recommendations for the reader.

In chapter two Feldman reasonably asserts that the broad narrative concerning the tabernacle is conceptually split into physical labor and ritual labor (35–37). Moses arranges “Yahweh’s home” in Exodus 40:17–33 allowing His presence to reside within it (Exodus 40:34). Finally in Leviticus 1:1 Moses begins learning the ritual labor (Lev 1–7) which he applies during the tabernacle’s inauguration (Lev 8–10). Feldman rightly claims that the ritual instruction contained in Leviticus 1–7 logically precedes Moses’s ritual labor in Leviticus 8–10 because how else could Moses anoint the tabernacle without knowledge of the needed sacrifices (46)?

Her third chapter hones-in specifically on Moses’s ritual labor and its importance in maintaining God’s presence. Feldman convincingly reasons for her principle of ritual innovation: a principle contrary to what typical (especially confessional) readers of Leviticus (and other priestly materials) might expect. She, along with many others, have observed that the priesthood’s installation (Lev 8:1–10:7) strays from the order outlined in Exodus 25–31, 35–40, and Lev 1–7 (68, 79). She clearly maintains that Moses’s deep grasp of the sacrificial system described by God up to this point, gives him the tools to innovate when necessary, which in this case, is caused by the priesthood’s incomplete anointing. Here Feldman’s trustful posture towards the text’s author(s) generates immense insight.

Chapters four and five represent a slight change in emphasis. Chapter four is Feldman’s most ambitious, arguing that various scenes in Leviticus and Numbers occur simultaneously within the story world. She does offer a very attractive reading for Moses and Aaron’s disagreement in Leviticus 10:16–20. Again, she appeals to ritual innovation, noting that Aaron, now a fully-fledged priest, can make logical and situational adjustments to the ritual system, whereas Moses cannot because his term as interim priest is over (116–120). Her argumentation for the simultaneity of Numbers 7:1–88 with Leviticus 10:8–20 and Numbers 7:89–8:4 with Leviticus 11:1 is well-received but may not pack the same punch as do her previous insights (123–133). In the fifth chapter Feldman argues for the Day of Atonement’s non-performance, instead arguing that Leviticus 16 depicts God describing the ritual procedure to Aaron via Moses (155–158). This is comparable to her analysis of Leviticus 1–7, where Moses is simply learning how to administer the sacrifices(s) rather than performing them.

Feldman’s work deserves very high praise for many reasons. First, her desire to depict the ritual texts as legitimate literature yields immense results (3, 5). She contends that modern assumptions of what constitutes literature incidentally exchanges the original “implied reader” for the modern one, leading the modern one potentially to misjudge the literary conventions of other cultures and eras (3). Feldman upholds the logic of the text until she is forced to concede that it is garbled, and this work is full of examples of how this presumption of the text’s coherence clarifies otherwise difficult texts. For instance, Feldman makes sense of the odd sacrifice offered by Moses in Exodus 40:29 arguing that through the current plot development, Yahweh’s location in the heavens, Moses’s default status as Yahweh’s intermediary, and the previous uses of this type of offering in the Pentateuch, one can make sense out of this strange sacrifice (36-38). The current author cannot champion this element of Feldman’s work enough.

This leads to a second praise: throughout, Feldman offers a masterclass in close reading. Perhaps the most outstanding display is found in Feldman’s notion of ritual innovation (35–38, 87–94). In chapter three Feldman explains while Aaron’s mixed-form purification ritual is indeed divergent from instructions in Leviticus 4, it is logical and internally coherent per Aaron’s liminal priestly status. Using this principle of ritual innovation, Feldman also makes sense of Nadab and Abihu’s error. The two brothers’ failure originates in rushing to meet God without God’s invitation (41) whereby they innovate beyond the logical boundaries of the ritual system. Feldman’s belief that the ritual system itself demands innovation (35–37) provides a rich springboard for further research.

Third, Feldman, at times working against the history of scholarship, argues convincingly for the Priestly source’s democratization of the cult (48-49, 56–59, 105, 133). Rather than reading Leviticus 1–5 as an instruction manual for priests, Feldman uses the principles of narratology to argue that the implied reader, presumably a lay Israelite, is brought into the private conversation of God and Moses and learns the cultic procedures before the priests themselves (48). Moreover, the Israelite-laity become central to the cult itself not only as imaginative implied readers but as the offerors who slaughter their own sacrifices before handing the animals off to the priest (56).

A fourth commendation concerns Feldman’s inclusion of ritual background information to the benefit of those unfamiliar with the Bible’s ritual material. This is most obvious in pages 49­–65 where she walks the reader through a typical sacrificial procedure, using the careful explanation itself to argue for the intentional and obvious democratization of the cult.

The current author does have a few very minor critiques. First, with her focus on the narratology of ritual procedures, a test case showing the difference between ancient written ritual and its real-world performance would have greatly benefited the persuasiveness of her argument (5–15). Second, while the author is favorable to Feldman’s translation of אכבד – “I will be present” – they were left desiring a more thorough explanation (104).

For those who are mistrustful of a source-critical-first approach which assumes the unreadability of the Bible, Feldman offers a way forward. Because of her attempt to combine both historical-critical methods and literary approaches, often disconnected in Biblical scholarship, the field will benefit greatly from this book. Her model of ritual innovation alone providing a way to make sense of seeming inconsistencies in the text is worth the purchase alone (5). In a similar vein, her reasonable methodological assumptions do justice to both the academy and faith communities trying to understand the text (25)

With that said, the book, printed by one of the field’s most prestigious publishers, is intended primarily for the scholar. However, Feldman’s lucid writing and consistently clear explanations makes her work accessible to the diligent student. The careful undergraduate will begin to see just how fragmented Pentateuchal scholarship is, which only underscores Feldman’s successful attempt at bridging the gap previously mentioned. The reader will obtain the highest yield from this work if they gain a familiarity with both Leviticus and perhaps Milgrom’s commentary on Leviticus published by Fortress Press.

C.J. Gossage

Hebrew-Union College, Jewish Institute of Religion

Review of The Path to Being a Pastor: A Guide for the Aspiring by Bobby Jamieson

Review of The Path to Being a Pastor: A Guide for the Aspiring by Bobby Jamieson

Jamieson, Bobby. The Path to Being a Pastor: A Guide for the Aspiring. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2021, 185, $17.99, paperback.

The Path

Bobby Jamieson is an Associate Pastor at Capitol Hill Baptist Church in Washington, D.C. Formerly, Jamieson was an assistant editor for 9Marks. He did his doctoral work at the University of Cambridge and his MDiv from The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. He has written on all areas of pastoral ministry, including Guarding One Another: Church Discipline, Leading One Another: Church Leadership, and Hearing God’s Word: Expositional Preaching.

The Path to Being a Pastor is a brief discussion about the necessary conversations that need to be had before one goes from participant to pastor. When one becomes a pastor, they join an elite group that God has used to do mighty works. Jamieson maintains that some have made this leap without realizing what they are getting involved in. As a result, the churches have suffered, and pastors have experienced burnout. Although Jamieson admits to not having been a pastor himself, he has helped many on the journey. This book is the fruit of that labor. The first third of the book sets up the dialogue about whether or not someone should enter pastoral ministry by discussing the move away from the common language of being “called” and finding certainty that one meets the necessary qualification. The second portion involves moving from saying you will be a pastor to implementing the groundwork used in the pastoral position. This section is the heart of the book. It includes but is not limited to the things that a would-be minister of the Gospel should already be doing.  The final section acts as a summary and gives final advice on how to enter the ministry.

In the preface, Jamieson states that the book’s thesis is not a direct map for entering ministry but is to “provoke” his reader (p. 13). Instead, he says that his goal is to incite thought. The topics listed are what a would-be pastor should be discussing with the pastor or elder who is discipling them. Before getting into the book, it is essential to note the similarities between this book and another would be manual for those entering the pastorate: Richard Baxter’s The Reformed Pastor. Both are relatively brief, but the similarities more so lie in the fact that both exclaim that the primary steps in preparation for the role of shepherd include shepherding oneself. One cannot lead others to a proper theology if they do not have one. One cannot catechize others if they have not catechized themselves. One cannot spread the Gospel to others if they have not (and do not daily) preach the Gospel to themselves.

While many books leave their most important themes until the end, Jamieson begins with his. Pastoral ministry has the sense of being set apart or called to this particular vocation. Rather than ask, “are you called?” Jamieson asks, “are you qualified?” While it is only explicit in the beginning chapters, most of the book is about being a pastor to oneself and discerning whether one is truly qualified for the position. For Jamieson, the question of being called leads to ego and focuses on the self rather than Jesus. Jamieson qualifies being called as a way of the “would-be preacher,” stating that he is qualified for ministry. This is different from being set apart by church leadership, observed, and then set apart for ministry work. Calling also necessitates that one meets specific qualifications. For that reason, the bulk of the book focuses on fleshing out those qualifications.

It is not easy to name all the tools in a pastor’s bag, especially in a book with less than two hundred pages. It is even more challenging to distinguish which ones are essential or merely beneficial to pastoral ministry. Nevertheless, that is Jamieson’s goal. It is a short list, not an extensive one. Pastor, there may be tools that Jamieson did not mention, but as he says in the early pages, his goal is to provoke. His chapters on seeking counsel are to help one seek out more mature believers and pastors more senior. He mentions safeguards to avoid falling into the traps that so often are attached to pastors’ names as news about them being removed for things like “moral failures.” Jamieson’s lessons are for pastors, but they are also helpful for lay leaders. For example, everyone in the church can benefit from the short section on memorizing Scripture (p. 80-81). Jamieson’s Calvinistic theology does shine through, especially in his selection of pastors and scholars to quote, like Carson, Vanhoozer, and Schreiner. Spurgeon features prominently like many books of pastoral ministry, but there is not so much reliance that one must subscribe to this theology to benefit.

Jamieson offers a brief and fantastic resource for those entering the pastorate and those interested in pastoral ministry. It raises thought-provoking questions dealing with pursuing the call to pastoral ministry.

Matt Crawford

Westview Baptist Church, Wichita, Kansas