In our first feature, Paul Johnson reflects on the central mission of the Church. With so much focus at present on social justice and societal reform, the priority of making disciples can fade. Paul calls us to come back to the foundational biblical texts to anchor our ministries. In our second feature article, I look at application approaches to social ethical issues. When we leave our sanctuaries on Sundays, what do we do with controversial subjects on Mondays? How far do I have to go to be obedient to what the Scriptures teach on topics like abortion, human trafficking, and euthanasia?

In book reviews, Mark Jacobson suggests a lesson from Aristotle’s Children to answer how  a believer might stay true to the Scripture and still engage our culture’s intellectuals. Do the Bible and reason correlate or compete? For those who believe the two stand in opposition to each other, a look back may surprise you. Russ Glessner reviews Clint Arnold’s commentary on Ephesians. If you are looking to teach or preach from this epistle soon, you’ll want to see this review. For those seeking rest in the midst of stressful ministry, you’ll be blessed by Lee Ann Zanon’s review of Eugene Peterson’s The Pastor: A Memoir. We hope as we all fold and fly together that something we share will help you fly a little smoother and a little farther.

I believe that the making of disciples, resulting in the creation of disciple-making movements and the establishment of local churches, constitutes the mission of God as defined by Jesus Christ and revealed in the New Testament. This belief is rooted in careful study of the nature and scope of Christ’s mission, based on His post-resurrection authority.

Christopher Wright, in analyzing salvation history, states that “Jesus Himself [emphasis added] provided the hermeneutical coherence within which all disciples must read these texts, that is, in the light of the story that leads up to Christ (messianic reading) and the story that leads on from Christ (missional reading).”[1] Robinson also claims that Christ’s ministry fulfills both a messianic role regarding Old Testament prophecy and an ongoing missional role in the New Testament:

Jesus Himself asserts that the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms are all fulfilled in Himself, and here He obviously has more in mind than what are ordinarily considered messianic passages – Jesus is speaking of the whole of the Old Testament. The Old Testament is part of one story, and that story ultimately is about Jesus Christ and His mission, continued in the New Testament.[2]

The redemptive work of Christ and His post-resurrection authority form the core of His great commission. The missio Dei has once and for all been focused upon the missio Christi. God’s mission in the world is now defined solely by Christ’s mission to make disciples and establish his church among all peoples (2 Cor. 5:18-20).

Alan Hirsch describes how the missio Christi is a continuation of larger concept of the missio Dei. The different persons of the Godhead are involved in particular ways to fulfill the missio Dei in this age. He sees in Scripture a “biblical monotheism” that focuses the missional activity of a distinct Person of the Godhead in salvation history. In the Old Testament, the monotheistic missional focus of the Trinity centered on God the Father and His relationship to Israel. In the New Testament, the monotheistic missional focus is on the Christ and His redemption of mankind.

This “Christo-centric monotheism” has a missional focus based on Jesus’ authority and mission to build His church and make disciples of all peoples. God the Father and the Holy Spirit support the advancement of the mission of Christ in the world.[3]  The missio Dei has become in Jesus the missio Christi. All that the triune God intends and plans to do in salvation history during this age is defined by and characterized by the mission of Christ.

The Authority of Christ to Direct His Mission

From the Gospel accounts, Matthew presents a crucial summary of the promises and commands that define the mission of Christ in the world. There we see it is twofold: 1) Christ’s promise to build His church (16:18), based on His imminent sacrificial death for mankind; 2) Christ’s command that His followers make disciples of all people (28:19). The essence of Christ’s mission is making disciples from all peoples, resulting in disciple-making churches among all peoples.

Matt. 28:18 states, “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth.” The word “authority” denotes Jesus’ divinely bestowed and unlimited power, and right as God’s Son and mankind’s Savior, to freely act. Christ’s right to rule was mutually invested in Him in perfect agreement between the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.^[4]

In the original language, the form of the verb “to give” (εδοθη) in Matt. 28:18 denotes sovereign power and authority that had already been given to Jesus. Alfred Plummer notes it is “not mere power or might (δυναμιs), but ‘authority’ as something which is His by right, conferred upon Him by One who has the right to bestow it (Rev. 2:27).”[5] It is the authority of the King of kings and the Lord of lords.

With this authority, Jesus is declared as the sovereign Ruler who initiates a new age and exercises universal dominion through His followers for making disciples of all people (Rev. 5:12-14; 19:6). In Matthew’s gospel, Christ is presented as the “the King of the Jews” (2:2; 21:4-5; 27:37), fulfilling the messianic promises. Based on His sacrificial death and resurrection, He is presented as God’s appointed and empowered Lord over all created beings, His followers and all nations (c.f. Phil. 2:6-11).[6]

Kevin DeYoung and Greg Gilbert stress the importance of Jesus’ authority as declared in Matt. 28:18, “The mission Jesus is about to give is based exclusively and entirely on His authority. There can only be a mission imperative because there is first this glorious indicative. God does not send out His church to conquer; He sends us out in the name of the One who has already conquered.”[7]

Christ’s universal post-resurrection authority forms the basis of His mission. “Because of this authority, Jesus has the right to issue His followers their ‘marching orders,’ but He also has the ability to help them carry out those orders.”[8] The mandate to “make disciples” given by Christ to His followers is a divine command, given by the One who possesses and has gained the right to rule over the universe.

Christ is Lord of His Church

The title that appropriately describes Jesus’ authority and mission in this age is “Lord.” The title “Lord” comes from the Greek term “κυρίος” with the basic meaning of supremacy. Jesus used the title “Lord” to delineate an important characteristic of His relationship to His followers in Mark 12:37.[9] Here, Jesus refers to King David’s use of the term “Lord” in Psalm 110:1 where David’s “son,” the promised coming all-powerful Messiah, is called the κμρίος (Lord) in the Greek version of the Old Testament (Septuagint). This is one of several Scriptures that Jesus used referring to Himself during his earthly ministry that led believers to think of Jesus as their coming Messiah, the divine κμρίος.[10]

Wilkins highlights the “all-inclusive” scope of Christ’s authority from Matt. 28:18-20 as the declaration of His missional purpose for this age. The repetition of the adjective all—all authority, all nations, all things, all days—provides a comprehensive declaration of Christ’s Lordship over every aspect of His followers’ lives.[11] Christ’s authority is focused in His right to rule over the lives of all believers so they obediently carry the gospel and make mature or holistic disciples of the nations.[12]

With the coming of the Holy Spirit recorded in Acts 2, Christ’s promised church becomes a reality and believers begin to refer to Jesus as their Lord. Blaising and Bock emphasize that as the source of salvation for all mankind, Christ is now recognized as the divine Lord who saves:

On the basis of Jesus’ current authority over all, Peter makes his emphatic call to the crowd to repent and be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ (Acts 2:38) …Those who would come to God must come through Jesus. The Lord on whom one must call to be saved (Joel 2 and Acts 2:21) is Jesus, the Lord at God’s right hand (Psalm 110 and Acts 2:34-46). Jesus’ ascension elevates him to the point where what was said of Yahweh in the Old Testament can now be said just as easily about Jesus![13]

Christ’s lordship is a key factor in motivating obedient disciples to submit humbly to Him. Jesus stated that the greatest commandment was to “love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind” (Matt. 22:23-40; Mark 12:28-34). Bietenhard observes, “In reply to the Jewish teacher’s question about the great commandment Jesus declares that their kurios is to be given complete and undivided attention.”[14]

This authority to rule is, at least in part, the fulfillment made in Daniel 7:13-14 regarding the coming “son of man.” Jesus is the Son of Man and He is Israel’s promised Messiah. He alone was given the authority, based on His death and resurrection, to rule as the King and Lord “in heaven and on earth.” (Matt. 28:18)

Wilkins rightfully understands that Christ’s universal authority is demonstrated through His right to rule in the life of every believer, summarizing what Jesus meant when He announced that all authority in heaven and earth had been given to Him:

A new authority or regime is established in the hearts of Jesus’ followers. That authority affects all that we are, in all that we do, in all spheres of life. The motif of the kingdom means that there is not a scintilla of life that does not come under the authority of Jesus Christ. Fundamentally we are kingdom people, which means that Jesus is Lord in our hearts, homes and workplace; our attitudes, thoughts, and desires; our relationships and moral decisions; our political convictions and social conscience. In every area of our interior life, personal relationships or social involvement, we seek to know and live the mind and will of God.[15]

Defining the Mission of Christ in the Church Age

In light of Christ’s biblically established authority and lordship, it is vital that we understand His mission, and align ourselves with it. Contemporary evangelical literature delineates a variety of definitions. Wright defines mission as “a long-term purpose or goal that is to be achieved through proximate objectives and planned actions.”[16] To understand the nature of Christ’s mission, it is vital to recognize that its purpose and fulfillment are centered solely on His person and redemptive work.[17] Peters emphasizes the nature of Christ’s mission when he states:

While Christianity is God-centered, it is so only as God is known in and through Jesus Christ. Therefore, it can be stated that Christianity is Christocentric. Christianity is God-centered in orientation and purpose and Christ-centered in revelation and salvation. Christ in revelation and mediation becomes the foundation for Christian mission.[18]

Understanding the Christ-centered nature of Jesus’ mission is essential. He alone defines and determines its goals. It is clear, strategic and quantifiable only because it is founded on the person, work and word of Christ.[19] Ott and Strauss observe:

The intimate connection between Christ’s life and work and the Great Commission makes inescapable the conclusion that the missionary mandate is not simply one among many good things that the church should do . . . . This mandate is the climax of Jesus’ teaching, a logical consequence of his redemptive work, his marching orders for the church, and his parting words as the threshold of a new era in salvation history.[20]

Some scholars promote a broader understanding of the mission of Christ than making and reproducing disciples and building His church. They appeal to other scriptural texts, rather than the great commission passages (Matt. 28:18-20; Mark 16:15; Luke 24:47). They assert that the mission of the church is to emulate the Messiah’s pre-crucifixion ministry by prioritizing people’s physical and social needs, citing passages such as Luke 4:18-19 and Luke 7:22. Hesselgrave counters this understanding of the mission of Christ:

If we do not exercise care, confusion growing out of unwarranted exegesis and prioritizing will first distract and then deter us from fulfillment of the great commission . . . . Often lulled into quiescence by spiritual exercises and numbed by overwhelming world-wide physical, social and political needs, all Christians need to respond in obedience to the Great Commandment to love God and neighbor. But, united in our commitment to the great commission, it is imperative that we examine our marching orders carefully and respond to them obediently.[21]

Other scholars claim that the great commission account in John 20:21 provides a more complete understanding of Christ’s mission – to bring peace (shalom) between God and mankind, and among people themselves. Hesselgrave, referring to the views of John Stott, states:

It has been argued that the traditional understanding of the Great Commission is faulty. According to this line of reasoning the “crucial form” of the Great Commission is the Johannine. “As the Father hath sent me, even so send I you” (John 20:21). In this statement, it is maintained, Jesus made His own mission a model of ours (“as the Father hath sent me, so send I you’). This does not mean that we become saviors. But it does mean that we become servants . . . The mission encompasses all that the church is sent into the world to do, including humanitarian service and the quest for better social structures. In short, according to this view, social and political activities are partners of evangelism and church growth in the Christian mission.[22]

A concern for the physical and social needs of people is an important part of what it means to live and love like Jesus, in obedience to His word. The greatest commandment calls all Christians to love their neighbors as they love themselves (Luke 10:27). The parable of the “Good Samaritan,” teaches that mercy and compassion for the abused and marginalized demonstrates our love for neighbor.

According to Matt. 28:18-20, when people are taught to obey all that Christ has commanded, they will follow His example of showing love and compassionate service to the marginalized and needy. Good works will be the result of obedient discipleship, living in a way that consistently demonstrates Christ’s love, grace and others-centered compassion to the world.

The Priority of Matthew 28:18-20

Many scholars agree that Matt. 28:18-20 presents the most precise, comprehensive and measurable statement of Christ’s mission in the Gospels. Wilkins notes:

As Matthew comes to the final three verses of his Gospel, he encapsulates the primary thrust of the whole book . . . . In this famous “great commission,” Jesus declares that His disciples are to make more of what He has made of them. In that sense, the commission encapsulates Jesus’ purpose for coming to earth, and its placement at the conclusion of this Gospel indicates Matthew’s overall purpose for writing. Jesus has come to inaugurate the kingdom of God on earth by bringing men and women into a saving relationship with Himself, which heretofore is called “discipleship to Jesus.”[23]

Authors Ott and Strauss observe:

Here the gospel mandate is made the foundation of the missionary task. Preaching the gospel, making disciples, and gathering these believers into communities whose members are committed to one another and to God is foundational to all else. This reflects the Great Commission according to Matt. 28:19-20. This is the gospel mandate. Missions must begin here, or it does not begin.[24]

Bosch states, “In Matthew’s view, Christians find their true identity when they are involved in his mission, in communicating a new way of life, a new interpretation of reality and of God, and in committing themselves to the liberation and salvation of others.”[25]

Hesselgrave emphasizes the clear and compelling nature of Matt. 28:18-20: “If we take our Lord seriously, our task is indeed an encompassing and exacting one – much more than many of us have thought it to be.”[26]

Conclusion

In divinely ordained salvation history, the mission of God in this age is founded upon the post-resurrection authority, promises and commands of Christ. The missio Dei is focused on the missio Christi. The objectives—making disciples and building His church—are clear, measurable, and achievable through the obedience of His followers and the ministry of the Holy Spirit. As stated by DeYoung and Gilbert:

It is not the church’s responsibility to right every wrong or to meet every need, though we have biblical motivation to do some of both. It is our responsibility, however – our unique mission and plain priority – that this unpopular, impractical gospel message gets told, that neighbors and nations may know that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, they may have life in his name.[27]

The purpose of this article is to explore the process of application development moving from ancient biblical texts to current social issues. Because the issue of abortion consistently dominates the evangelical social ethics agenda and produces a wide range of personal responses, it will serve as a case study in authoritative application.

Basic Application Models

According to most evangelical hermeneutics books, application ought to be characterized by three main components. First, application should flow from the author’s intent as discerned from proper interpretation. Second, application should build on elements shared between current readers and original hearers.[1] Third, application should flow either from explicit normative directives or from implicit normative principles. McQuilkin illustrates this when he states that we should obey if an attitude/action is the explicitly declared the will of God, or if not explicitly declared, it is demanded by clear biblical principle and other teaching.[2]

Building on the above foundation, hermeneutics writers have suggested specific rubrics for discerning application from Scripture. Hall exemplifies a common approach by saying that application must ask if there is a: 1) Sin to be forsaken? 2) Promise to be claimed? 3) Example to be followed? 4) Command to be obeyed? 5) Stumbling block to avoid?[3] Similarly, Hendricks develops application through relationship. He suggests the reader relate truth to new relationships to God, self, others, and the enemy.[4]

Likewise, homiletics writers have offered foundational constructs for application development. Robinson uses the image of a ladder. We must climb the “abstraction ladder.” First we climb up in abstraction “to reach the text’s intent.” Here he refers not to authorial intent specifically, but to a general theological principle based on what the text teaches about God and humanity.[5] The expositor ought to climb the ladder until the principle is equally true for biblical and modern audience. Sunukjian also argues for application from a common principle base. “Our goal is to visualize scenarios that might realistically occur in the listener’s life, to picture some person, event, or circumstance in their everyday world where the biblical truth would have some bearing.”[6] “An application pictures a specific situation in your listeners’ lives that is equivalent to the one the biblical author is talking about.”[7]

While these basic models represent helpful structures for discerning and developing biblical application, certain circumstances in our day stretch the bounds of basic models. As faithful teachers of the Word, we want to find equivalent situations between the past and the pew, but can we always? What is the biblical equivalent to embryonic stem cell research? Robinson correctly states that the goal remains to discern true biblical authority for our practical applications. “Too often preachers give a possible implication all the authority of a necessary implication, which is at the level of obedience. Only with necessary implications can you preach, ‘Thus saith the Lord.’”[8] The discovery and discernment of these “necessary implications” remains the primary goal of an expositor. This task takes on heightened significance in arena of social ethics.

A survey of current social ethics books reveals a need for application discussion as well. Social ethics writings, especially in areas such as abortion and euthanasia, focus on delineating and defending the biblical position on the issue. The reader comes away with a clear cognitive understanding of the debate, but little guidance for action.

Foundational Categories for Application

Application may stem from the three types of biblical statements. First, Scripture records beliefs to be received by the hearer, i.e.  “Jews and Gentiles alike are all under sin” (Rom 3:9). Many of these couple with direct commands (“You were bought at a price, therefore honor God with your body.” [1 Cor 6:19]). In these cases, the application flows from the command itself. However in cases without associated commands, the hearer must ascertain any implied action. Second, perhaps the simplest is the direct command requiring obedience from the hearer. “Love the Lord your God…” (Deut 6:5) or “Be kind and compassionate to one another…” (Eph 4:32) These kinds of texts move the action closer to the hearer by delineating the expected response. Certainly some direct commands require adjustment in order to produce appropriate obedience (“Slaves, obey your earthly masters in everything” [Col 3:22]), but the broad application remains clear. Third, Scriptures record actions to be considered by the hearer, i.e. David’s slaying of Goliath (1 Sam 17). The hearer must decide the reason the specific action is recorded and what response is implicitly expected. Each of these categories will be considered more fully and then in relation to the complex social issue of abortion.

Required Beliefs

The Scripture lays a theological foundation for our actions. The reality about our God and ourselves moves us to live in light of that truth. When it comes to social issues, the Bible certainly speaks to our moral base. Because Yahweh is the only true God, we love Him with all our heart, soul and strength. All we do reflects our devotion to Him. So then what do we do when biblical moral beliefs collide with our culture? How far do we go to be obedient?

The first answer to applying a required belief is the prohibition of any act that would oppose that belief. To obey is to avoid actions and attitudes in contradiction to that truth. This personal congruity stands behind calls such as Paul’s in Ephesians to “live worthy of the calling we have received” (4:1). His subsequent list of prohibitions of immorality, dishonesty, anger and bitterness are expected applications. To live worthy of the holy calling is to avoid these unholy sins. So here, as well as in social ethics, a believer must personally abstain from actions that contradict a biblical belief.

The second answer to applied obedience from required beliefs stems from recognizing that truth is more than a personal responsibility. To fully obey is to convey that belief to others. God gave us His truth as a legacy to pass on to future faithful generations. Moses declared to Israel that Yahweh was the only true God (Deut 4:39; 6:4). That truth called for personal congruity in absolute devotion to Him (6:5). Part of that congruity showed in the instruction of subsequent generations the truth about God (6:7-9). The Church also receives the command to pass on the truths of the faith (2 Tim 2:2) as a part of receiving the truth of salvation (1:9). If we have received eternal truths, Scripture compels us to communicate them to those who follow.

The third answer to applied obedience brings the most challenge. How far does one go to positively act on a biblical belief? For example, we believe that creation is the Lord’s and we live as stewards. Therefore we avoid abusing creation (aware of the size of our carbon footprints) plus we teach the biblical value of creation. Then what? Does stewardship obedience require joining the Sierra Club? Becoming a locavore?[9] Recycling? The complexities of social issues heighten the difficulty of responding to this element of the answer. A look at a key abortion text shows this clearly.

Psalm 139 beautifully reveals the value of life within the womb. Verse 13 declares God “creates” our inmost beings. The word rendered “create” connotes His personal work in bringing out this new life (cf Gen 4:1). It is coupled in parallelism with “weave,” an image depicting intimate involvement in producing life. One can almost picture the skilled fingers of God crafting a new life in the womb. The magnificence of His work moves the psalmist to praise Yahweh for His fearful and wonderful works (139:14). The psalm’s vivid portrait of God shaping life harkens the reader back to God’s original creation of Adam and Eve. The biblical truth is that fetal life is as important as the original human lives. So then how far do we go in preaching to demand action stemming from this belief? What actions does this belief require?

To apply the biblical truth concerning life in the womb begins with believers refusing to end life through abortion. Further, it necessitates parents and churches teach this truth about life. This much is clear, but what then? Does the Scripture lay an obligation on believers to defend life and if so, to what length? Direct commands in Scripture suggest additional application steps in social issues.

Direct Commands

Typically the most easily applied biblical texts are those that specify an action. The complication comes in applying an ancient, specific command to a contemporary, complex issue. Technological chasms exist between the two worlds. In addition, moving from dictatorial to democratic governments introduces new challenges for application.

The key application question is what specific, contemporary action is demanded by a general, biblical command. Like required beliefs, the first part of the answer concerns the negative. Any action a believer may commit or consider that violates the general command is sin. For instance, the Scripture commands us to gather for worship and encouragement (Heb 10:25). A believer who fills his schedule with everything except worship clearly violates the general command. The second part of the answer concerns positive obedience. How often do we meet? How long? At what point have we fulfilled obedience? At what point is obedience still partial and insufficient? These qualitative questions take on additional complexity when considering social ethical issues.

Similarly, how one obeys a negative biblical command demands two answers. First, the obvious application is to not break the command. For example, we don’t steal; we don’t lie. But, on the other hand, does the prohibition demand a positive response as well? Does it have application to our parenting responsibilities or to our duty as Christian citizens? How far do we go to help others obey, or prevent others from breaking the command?

Two biblical commands directly affect the abortion issue and surface the application question: Love your neighbor as yourself (Lev 19:18; Matt 22:39; Gal 5:14; James 2:8), and do not commit murder (Gen 9:6; Exodus 20:13).

From early Christian history, leaders argued against abortion as a violation of the second greatest command. The Didache connects the direct command to love our neighbor to the prohibition of abortion.[10] The Scripture commands us to love other people. Evangelicals have demonstrated that the Scripture teaches a person’s life begins at conception.[11] Therefore the command to love our neighbors extends to pre-born neighbors. The prohibition of murder in Exodus 20 goes hand in hand with this command. If one obeys the positive command, this prohibition will also be honored. This then represents obedience to a general command by avoiding specific actions that would violate that command. Obeying by not violating seems clear enough, but other than not personally aborting a child, are there other implicit applications? What actions should Christians take to love their neighbor by protecting the unborn? Political protest? Physical intervention? A look at the recorded actions of four believers who interceded in their culture suggests key principles to guide our teaching and preaching applications.

Recorded Actions

Since the culture and technological gap widens on the subject of many social ethics issues, the Bible reader does not find exact matches in the historical sections of Scripture. However, some biblical events do provide parallels for possible responses to societal issues. The following events illustrate believers’ responses within their culture. The individuals themselves were not directly affected by the issue, yet intervened on others’ behalf.

Esther: The Responsibility of Position. God worked silently behind the scenes to bring Esther into a position of authority, moving her from peasant to queen. He had her taken to Susa (2:8), granted her favor in the eyes of Hegai (2:9), and drew the king’s attention and approval to her (2:17). When the Jews faced genocide at the hands of Haman, Mordecai reminded Esther that perhaps she had come to her royal position so she might intervene to save her people (4:14). For her to refuse to intervene would result in God’s employing other means to save, but she and her family would perish rather than be protected (4:13-14). She would suffer consequences for not acting when her position demanded she do so.

Esther had moral responsibility to intervene because of her status and capability. This principle rises elsewhere in Scripture, where in Proverbs wisdom demands that one act on behalf of another when that one has the capability to do so. “Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act” (3:27). Waltke concludes that the proverb means one in need has “a moral claim upon your assistance” if you have the ability to help.[12] The Law also reveals this guiding principle, calling on God’s people to rescue even the ox of their enemies if they can save it (Exodus 23:4). Whether by means of position, resources or circumstance, the Scripture calls on the obedient believer to intervene on behalf of the needy.

As we proclaim the Scriptures on issues concerning social ethics today, we may rightfully call to action those with particular capacity to respond. Obedience in this case links to personal position and influence. Christian elected officials cannot hide behind their constituents’ wishes when voting or working on issues of justice, morality or life. They must exercise their commitment to the Lord first to the full extent their position allows. Likewise, the Christian electorate cannot shirk the responsibility to acknowledge biblical ethics on the ballot. The specific demanded application on a social ethical issue is determined in part by the hearer’s capacity and circumstance. In a democratic society, Christians have the authority to petition, to peacefully protest, and engage many other potential expressions of their convictions. When convictions meet circumstances, churches and preachers must be willing to cross the bridge linking biblical teaching to civic opportunity.

John the Baptist: The Responsibility to the Standard. John served to pave the way for Messiah. He primarily preached the coming of the kingdom and the King (Matt 3:1-12). The anticipated kingdom demanded repentance to prepare one’s heart for receiving. Within that role, John also set an example of moral Christian protest.

John confronted a secular government official with the moral standard of the biblical Law. Herod was in an adulterous relationship with Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife. Two relevant observations rise from this text. First, John engaged in protest against tolerated immorality. Herod Antipas was not Jewish but Idumaean, son of Herod the Great. The beginning of Jesus’ ministry focused on presenting Himself to Israel as their Messiah (cf. Matt 10:6), yet John the Forerunner voiced the Scripture’s opposition to this Gentile leader’s lifestyle. Second, John condemned Herod on the basis of Torah, specifically Leviticus 18:16, which prohibits the marrying of a brother’s wife as long as the brother lives. As part of his proclamation ministry, John boldly confronted a secular official with God’s moral truth.

This example illustrates believers voicing biblical standards in the public arena. John recognized that the moral code contained in the Law extended beyond Israel to include all humanity. He confronted a moral flaw in a governmental official. This bolsters the calling of believers to public expression of their moral convictions by voice or vote. Is it in the realm of legitimate ministry to condemn social failures such as euthanasia, homosexual marriage and pornography? The Gospels esteem John’s attempts to proclaim righteousness in the public square.

John’s confrontation may affirm the legitimacy of churches and Christians voicing biblical morals in protest of government personal and political choices. These activities may include Life Chains,[13] One Man One Woman campaigns,[14]or other efforts to politically promote Scriptural standards.

John’s example brings to light an additional aspect of upholding the biblical standard. Any actions taken in response to a social issue must reflect positively the Gospel message. John’s challenge of Herod’s immorality matched his call of repentance to the Jews. His ethical issue confrontation harmonized with his evangelistic calling. Elsewhere in the New Testament, especially 1 Corinthians, Scripture makes clear that the reputation of Christ and the clarity of the Gospel claim highest priority.

Paul proclaims that he does not exercise his rights as an apostle if that would in some way undermine the Gospel. His focus remains on reaching those without Christ (1 Cor 9:15-25). Earlier, he calls the Corinthians to a similar commitment when he argues that their personal desires should yield to the reputation of the Church in the world (1 Cor 6:1:1-7). Similarly, in chapter 14, believers are called on to pursue the gift of prophecy over the gift of tongues. One key reason for this command is concern that unbelievers would properly understand the truth (vv. 23-25). If God’s holy standard compels us to speak to the culture’s ills, then that message must direct our culture to the hope of the Gospel. Some actions taken to promote Christian ethics may in fact undermine the Gospel message. Some abortion protesters have bombed clinics. Some have utilized offensive graphic pictures of aborted babies likening abortion to the actions of the Nazis and the Klan.[15]

Amos: Responsibility to a Call. Unlike John and Esther, who were both prompted in part by circumstances to intervene in a political system, Amos was compelled by a singular reason, a divine call. God had led Esther to a position of influence, influence that she was compelled to utilize in order to rescue innocent lives. Herod’s frustration and fascination with John put the Forerunner into a unique place to condemn immorality in a government official. By contrast, Amos was minding his own business when the Lord mobilized him to confront the social sins of a nation (7:14-15). Herding sheep and piercing figs had not strategically placed him in a position of influence. Yet God chose him to publicly challenge a depraved culture.

Amos’ ministry primarily focused on calling the nation to repentance for their social injustices. The central oracles (chs. 3-6) highlight the social maladies within Israel.

The poor were oppressed and even sold into slavery. The rich had summer and winter palaces crammed with ivory-inlaid art and furniture, great vineyards for choice wines, and precious oils for hygiene and perfume. The women, fat and pampered “cows of Bashan” drove their husbands to injustice so they might live in luxury. Justice was a commodity to be purchased.[16]

So Amos stepped out of the pastures into the palace to deliver Yahweh’s message of justice and judgment.

What makes Amos exceptional in some ways is his unique calling. Many of the prophets seem to be natural choices due to influential political connections (Jonah or Isaiah), priestly functions (Ezekiel or Jeremiah) or unusual giftedness (Daniel). Amos apparently, possessed none of these, and yet was called of God to act. His example reminds us that God may, of His own sovereign prerogative, call one of our hearers to serve in a unique capacity. Not every call of application is a general call for all to rise up, but perhaps a community reminder that the Lord may hand pick a specific individual for a special assignment. At times the preaching of the Word opens the door to a single heart for an exceptional response. Our preaching on life and other social issues should include casting a vision of what one called believer can accomplish. How many ministries began with one response to a gigantic need?

Barnabus: Going Beyond. At a time when the early Church faced financial struggles, some believers went beyond basic obedience. Barnabus exemplified this spirit by selling a field and giving all the money to the church (Acts 4:36-37). That his generosity was not obligatory is made clear by Peter’s confrontation of the lying Ananias (5:4). His giving was not morally required. Barnabas’ actions represent what Feinberg calls “supererogatory obedience.”[17] Motivated by devotion, he went beyond the demand. Admittedly, Barnabas does not represent a believer confronting a social ethical issue, but he does represent a type of believing response that has implications for teaching /preaching applications on ethical issues today.

Supererogatory obedience expands the application palette. While one may not biblically demand that believers show this extraordinary commitment, an invitation to extravagant devotion may encourage an inclined heart to deeper service. A substantial gift from the wealthy shows generosity, but a sacrificial gift from the poor shows devotion. To call on the available to reserve time to serve in a soup kitchen is expected, but to have busy executives and multi-tasking moms show up is exhilarating. Part of helping listeners apply the Scripture ought to be introducing a variety of avenues to express devotion beyond obedience. The teacher or preacher appeals not to obedience and duty, but to love and opportunity.

Putting the Application Puzzle Together

No cookie-cutter approach will effectively spell out every specific application from a biblical text to a social ethics issue. The complexities are too great and our circumstances vary too much. However, some suggestions may be made, using responses to abortion as an example. Preachers and teachers must call on all believers to receive the truth on ethical issues and avoid any action that would violate that truth. Further, all believers must use advantages their personal positions allow to influence culture with the truth. For some, obedience will require significant acts, for others rare and small choices. We must also issue an invitation for those whom the Lord may single out by special calling, and to those who will reach out by personal devotion.

Remember our friends? Ann has eight children in her house, ranging from toddler to teenager. Getting breakfast on and kids to school seems supererogatory. Yet as a busy, sometimes harried mom, she has faithfully taught her children the value of life and its implications for abortion. When given the opportunity, she votes to support life issues and signs petitions voicing her support. She has obeyed the Lord. Allen recognized the position of influence he held. He rightly believes his access to legislators compels him to talk to them about bills on abortion, euthanasia and stem cell research. He knows to obey is to speak as his capacity allows.

Fred became personally convicted about the death behind the door of their local abortion clinic. He could not escape it. Fred joined an Operation Rescue effort to blockade the clinic and give out abortion fact pamphlets to girls they tried to stop from entering. When arrested for trespassing, he turned down pro bono offers to defend him. He served time in county jail instead. Fred would rather have a record than not respond. Jim was different than Ann or Allen or Fred. Bold by nature, he was already deeply involved in a Christian protest ministry to confront abortion acceptance at state universities. Many days he spent witnessing, arguing and debating among college students—some open, some angry. He quit the ministry, however, when they began picketing churches for not joining their in-your-face protests. He feared it sent the wrong message to unbelievers.

Liz had not been active in any pro-life ministry. Then she had kids. Her love for her own children spilled over to kids and moms at risk. She reflects, “It’s crazy, I know, to do something else during this busy time of my life, but I want to start a ministry to these moms and kids.” Her financial contributions help cover expenses for the work, and more than fifty at-risk moms and their kids benefit from her investment and concern.

All of these believers demonstrate obedience to the truth about life—some at the basic level, some by yielding to responsibility of position or calling, and some in conviction and compassion. As teachers and preachers of God’s Word, our goal is to guide and encourage hearers to biblical action in today’s world. May an uninvolved listener never say, “I would have done something, but you never asked.”

Deep Montana roots. Six years living in spiritual “badlands.” How to be “unbusy” in ministry. These are just a few of the intriguing life chapters Eugene Peterson chronicles in his memoir, The Pastor. Author William Young notes that it is the perfect book for anyone who is a pastor, wonders if they will be one, or anyone “who has one.”

Peterson is perhaps most well-known as writer of The Message, a contemporary version of the Bible. Yet that endeavor came after decades in ministry. A Pentecostal, small-town upbringing, education at a New York City seminary, a long-time Presbyterian pastorate, and 15 years as Regent College Professor of Spiritual Theology provided rich experiences that shaped his biblical scholarship.

The largest portion of the book is devoted to Peterson’s work as pastor. He and his wife Jan started a church in the basement of their Baltimore home in 1962, and devoted themselves to it for some 30 years. In his words, “The exterior entrance to our sanctuary was down eight steps of a cement stairwell. The floor of the room was cement. The walls were cement blocks. There were six horizontal narrow exterior windows bordering the top of two of the walls at ground level. After we had been worshipping in this bare, unadorned basement for about four months, Ruth, a vivacious 16-year-old, said to me, ‘I love worshipping in this place! I feel like one of the early Christians in the catacombs.” Hence, Catacombs Presbyterian Church was born.

So began Peterson’s vocation as a pastor. He observes, “I can’t imagine now not being a pastor. I was a pastor long before I knew I was a pastor. I just never had a name for it. Once the name arrived … it was like finding a glove that fit my hand perfectly—a calling, a fusion of all the pieces of my life … but it took a while.”

One of the most notable and delightful elements of The Pastor are the many people and places Peterson poignantly portrays, life events God used to mold, challenge, and encourage him. At times they are warm and even humorous, but others reflect the pain woven into the fabric of ministry. For example, Peterson shares touching stories of his mother, who took him along when she shared the Gospel with laborers in their small mountain community.

“It was high adventure, especially in winter driving and an aura of huddled coziness in the bare halls heated by barrel stoves … I loved being in the company of those rough-hewn men who seemed to have just stepped out of a Norwegian folk tale. I loved being with my passionate mother, who was having such a good time telling lumberjacks and miners about God.”

His father was a butcher, and in his child’s mind, the meat cutting shop provided a perfect place to imagine Old Testament priests and blood sacrifices. He reflects, “That butcher shop was my introduction to the world of congregation, which in a few years would be my workplace as a pastor. The people who came into our shop were not just customers … Everyone felt welcome.”

Peterson pulls back the curtain on the ups and downs of pastoral life, letting readers glimpse the more personal and “human” side of ministry. He is honest about the struggles, but hopeful in recognizing God’s grace in the journey. In one especially revealing section of the book, he tells of a time period following a successful building program, when the congregation moved out of the basement into a stunning new sanctuary.

The church changed its name to Christ Our King Presbyterian, and Peterson had anticipated a glorious progression of further growth and outreach. What he encountered instead was a six-year period marked by malaise, frustration, and questioning.

He says, “How could I re-capture the spirited purpose that had infused so much energy into the formation of our congregation … a fresh expression on Maryland soil of this magnificent story of salvation, following Jesus as if for the first time on the roads and sidewalks of this suburban wilderness? I had no way of knowing it at the time, but I was entering a time of my life that I later named the ‘badlands.’ And I had no way of knowing how long I would be there. It was going to last six years.”

As part of persevering through those days, Peterson and his wife established a Sabbath pattern that believers would do well to consider for themselves. They set aside Mondays as their “day off,” but more than that. They incorporated a regular pattern of spending time outdoors, solitude and shared discussion. They engaged the congregation in their endeavor, with Peterson writing a letter to church members:

“We need your help … Jan and I are ready to respond to you any time of day or night, on any day of the week—death, accident, crisis. Don’t ever hesitate to call us. But if it can keep until Tuesday, call us on Tuesday. We will do our best to protect Sunday as a day of rest and prayer and leisure for you … Help us keep a Monday Sabbath.”

Peterson also helps readers gain a realistic understanding of pastors’ families. He tells of his daughter Karen, five years old at the time, asking him to read her a story. When he declined because he had to attend a meeting she said, “This is the 27^th night in a row you have had a meeting.” Peterson notes, “The meeting I had to go to was with the church’s elders … In the seven-minute walk to the church on the way to the meeting, I made a decision. If succeeding as a pastor meant failing as a parent … I would resign that very night.”

When the meeting began, he told the elders of the interaction with Karen. He resigned then and there, but went on to talk about how over-commitment had led to frustration in multiple realms, permeating and stifling his soul. One of the elders, whose father had been a pastor, asked, “So what do you want to do?” After listing several areas that needed attention, Peterson stated, “I want to be an unbusy pastor.”

The elders agreed, thus initiating a foundational shift in approach and attitudes related to leadership. Much of the day to day operation of the church was delegated to capable church members, freeing Peterson to cultivate the “invisibles” of relationship, and a healthy rhythm of activity and rest.

He observes, “As we did this together, the conviction spread through the congregation that one of the most soul-damaging phrases that had crept into the Christian vocabulary is ‘full-time Christian work.’ Every time it is used, it drives a wedge of misunderstanding between the way we pray and the way we work, between the way we worship and the way we make a living.”

The book concludes with “Letter to a Young Pastor,” a gentle yet direct missive to individuals seeking to “find their way” as pastor. In it, Peterson offers wise counsel born of a lifetime. It is a fitting conclusion to the treasury of wisdom found in his memoir.

At first glance, Aristotle’s Children: How Christians, Muslims, and Jews Rediscovered Ancient Wisdom and Illuminated the Dark Ages is a book about church history. The back cover includes this description: “The astonishing story of revelation and transformation in the Middle Ages.  When Aristotle’s lost works were translated and available once again, the medieval world was galvanized, the Church and the universities were forever changed, and the stage was set for the Renaissance.” Rubenstein’s well-documented work, however, is much more than another study of the forces that paved the way for the Renaissance and the modern period following it.

The author has a clear agenda: to plead for the reunion of faith and reason in our present secularized culture. He begins with a brief, non-technical history lesson, observing that in Aristotle’s day separating reason from faith (the religious world at that time) was not only unthinkable, but would have been deemed utterly foolish had anyone proposed such an idea.

Rubenstein contrasts this perspective with modern thinking that places science and reason outside the realm of religious faith and removes faith from the public square, confining it to expressions of individual piety.  He argues that this separation of reason and faith has been tragic, and states that “a [postmodern] world hungry for wholeness yearns” for their reunion. He introduces readers to “Aristotle’s children,” those who were privileged to be a part of the re-discovery, translation and communication of Aristotle’s writings to a world that had grown tired of papal authority and the irrelevancy of the Catholic Church.

Through the book, we find Aristotle’s children in various places at various times.  They gathered in Toledo, Spain, where Greek, Jewish and Arab scholars labored side-by-side in the 12th and 13th centuries to translate Aristotle’s classic works. They were influential faculty members in the emerging universities—Bologna, Paris, Oxford.  Rubenstein retells familiar stories from this vantage point, such as the famous medieval love affair between Abelard and Heloise, or the heretical Cathari. Individuals we expect to find in this family tree—Roger  Bacon, who helped to develop the scientific method, and the scholastic theologian, Thomas Aquinas—are given their due consideration as well.

One of the more helpful insights Rubenstein develops is the relationship between the medieval Catholic Church and the Aristotelian renaissance. He rightfully objects to the over-simplistic characterization of the medieval Church as being opposed to anything scientific or tied to rational thought. Yes, the Catholic Church did condemn Galileo for challenging the Church’s centuries-old, earth-centered model of the universe, and did at times ban the reading, translation and use of Aristotle’s works in the universities. The Church went so far as to implement the Inquisition to deal with what it deemed heretic thinking.

On the other hand, as the author notes, the universities themselves were creations of the Catholic Church, For example, Abelard was an abbot and Thomas Aquinas a celebrated Catholic scholar. Regarding the Renaissance itself, centuries later, it is thus no surprise that the (Christian!) humanist Erasmus and Italy’s Michelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci were directly connected to the Catholic Church. In addition, many Renaissance popes were patrons of the arts.

Rubenstein’s thesis that reason and faith need not stand in opposition is a welcome challenge to the current state of affairs in which, as he puts it, “Science, deprived of its connection with religious faith, has become increasingly technical and ‘value-free,’ while religious commitments, cut loose from their naturalistic moorings, seem increasingly a matter of arbitrary ‘instincts’ or tastes.”

When it comes to practical relevance, the author is content to simply challenge the status quo, leaving the reader to speculate how, specifically, reason and faith can be rejoined for a postmodern culture. The challenge is effective. One cannot help but feel incensed that our modern culture has gotten away with separating rational thought from religious faith!

Evangelical Christians have often been labeled as obscurantist—being in the dark and keeping others in the dark. Unfortunately, anecdotal evidence abounds for this pejorative assessment. Evangelical leaders today can take heart from Rubenstein’s thesis and historical survey. His writings support the notion that one can be an evangelical believer—with a high view of Scripture—and have a faith that enlightens rather than obscures the world around us.

Dr. Clinton Arnold provides excellent exegetical guidance for one who wishes to study, teach, or preach the book of Ephesians. This prison epistle is filled with a wide range of truth intended to edify believers “in Christ,” as they live “in the power of the Spirit” for “the glory of God.” To use F. F. Bruce’s phrasing, Ephesians represents “the quintessence of Paulinism,” echoing many Pauline themes in a fresh and impactful way. Yet it comes with numerous exegetical challenges. Arnold, professor of New Testament Language and Literature and now dean of Talbot School of Theology and general editor of this Zondervan series, models well what the series is intended to provide. He is a worthy guide for thoughtful engagement with this letter from the apostle Paul.

I recently used this commentary as the assigned text for my exposition course on Ephesians, so my students and I had ample exposure to it. We found it a worthy interpretive guide, which fulfills the goals of the commentary series: paragraph sections of the text are illumined with explanation of literary context, the main idea, structure, careful translation and graphical layout, an exegetical outline, and well-expressed explanation of meaning and application.

The series is designed for (but not limited to) readers who have at least moderate competency in intermediate Greek grammar. They will benefit greatly from Arnold’s careful interaction with the Greek text, though this is not a technical commentary. For individuals lacking the Greek foundation, or whose knowledge of intermediate grammar is weak, many of the grammatical discussions may be too complex or be hard to comprehend at times (e.g. 3:17a-c and its structure). They will, however, still find a great deal of benefit in this commentary.

Readers will be interested in Arnold’s views concerning the authorship and destination of Ephesians. He holds to the textual validity of “in Ephesus” in 1:1b, defending that position thoughtfully and fairly. Yet reasonably, he states that it is best “to see Ephesians as a letter that was intended in the first instance to circulate among the various local churches in the city of Ephesus, then to other churches in nearby villages, and possibly to churches in cities (further away).” He enthusiastically and skillfully supports Pauline authorship.

Each text section is placed well in its historical, cultural, and literary contexts. Arnold is widely respected for his expertise regarding “power” terminology in Ephesians, and his treatment of spiritual forces (e.g. angels and demons, magic, and folk belief—especially in Ephesian and Colossian contexts). His careful study of Ephesus and its environs and the Artemis cult provides an excellent example. In his discussion of “world powers” in 6:12, Arnold notes that “it is far more likely that Paul drew on a word for spirits that was current both in Greco-Roman and Jewish folk belief and astrology” [than to have coined the word himself] (p. 447). Understandably, he views power and spirit terminology as much more likely than an interpreter who has not studied at his depth (e.g. “Identifying the Principalities, Authorities, Powers, and dominions.”

Arnold’s structural and translational suggestions are helpful, giving a well-developed visual representation of the flow of thought in each passage. Observing the organization of the text—especially in a complex Greek text such as Ephesians—is a boon to proper interpretation and communication. This does, however, add to the book’s size and some readers will find the paper copy cumbersome, perhaps making a case for using a digital version.

Dr. Arnold explains the meaning of the biblical text very well, with an astute use of relevant contexts. He develops inter-textual connections in a refreshing way, referring to other biblical texts which shed light on the target passage or which augment its application and theological value (e.g. Paul’s becoming a servant through God’s grace in 3:7). In a refreshing way he illustrates the value of “Scripture interpreting Scripture,” or at least adding the Bible’s own color commentary. He is a dependable guide through the scores of challenging interpretive issues. For example, in 1:18 he explains his understanding of Paul’s prayer that his readers might be given “[the] Spirit of wisdom and revelation to know him.” He believes this refers to the Holy Spirit, not the human spirit.

The well-known exegetical challenge of “he gave gifts to [his] people” of 4:8 (difficult to square verbally with Psalm 68:18 in both its Hebrew and Greek wording) is handled with skill. A lengthy sidebar summarizes the discussion well and, to my mind, correctly: “By analogy to God as the triumphant Divine Warrior who, after he ascended his throne, received gifts of homage from his captives, Paul ‘depicts Christ as the triumphant Divine Warrior who, after he ascended to his throne, blesses his people with gifts.’” This is a model for addressing a very complex problem concisely and fairly, and then offering an excellent resolution.

Arnold is gracious, kind, and engaging, and portrays that spirit throughout the commentary. Informative footnotes abound. He works with a modest range of fellow commentators such as O’Brien, Hoehner, Best, Lincoln, Snodgrass, Barth, and a wide range of others, and also draws from much additional research.  The result is that the interpretive assistance of this commentary is well-honed within an evangelical context of discussion.

The “theology in application” at the end of each unit of focus offers helpful summaries. Following 11 pages of material regarding Paul’s “instructions to family members in Ephesians in light of household codes” and “the role of wives in Roman-era Ephesus and Western Asia Minor” Arnold gives balanced, irenic comments on an issue widely discussed and debated today. He addresses marriage, headship, the responsibilities of wives and husbands, and what the leadership of husbands should look like. I believe this is excellent material, not just because I believe he gets it right, but because there is evidence of his having balanced the competing tensions found in common egalitarian and complementarian perspectives. He defends the application of this Ephesian text to marriages today.

The number of commentaries on any given book of the Bible continues to multiply, many with specific technical or applicational design. In my mind, this volume is well worth consideration. Dr. Clint Arnold has compiled a carefully crafted, illuminating, helpful commentary. I’ve read and used it with great profit and pleasure, and I heartily recommend it. And, in the name of full disclosure … I have personally known the author, and I highly value his integrity and competence. Thanks, Clint!