Review of "Genesis 1-4: A Linguistic, Literary, and Theological Commentary" by C. John Collins

It is difficult to write a review for this book because I found it simply unremarkable. Collins presents an exegesis of Genesis 1-4 that sees Genesis 1:1-2:3 as "exalted prose" and from Genesis 2:4 on as narrative prose. For his exegesis, he uses a method that he calls the discourse-oriented literary approach, also referred to as discourse analysis. This approach was cursorily defined in the text, but because it depended on the particular form of Hebrew words, it was impossible for one untrained in ancient Hebrew, like myself, to assess the validity of this method. Thus, the exegetical method that he uses lends itself to only experts in Hebrew. But apart from the method, the book had the feel that the targeted reader was simply Biblically literate. So I wonder whom the audience was that Collins intended. Despite this significant drawback, I enjoyed much of his commentary, particularly his sections outlining the "reverberations" of the text in later Scripture. The later chapters of the book, which deal with Chapters 1-4 as a whole, are the real strength of this book. They discuss the current debates over interpretation, what can be meant by the historicity of these chapters, and the impact of these chapters on the larger narrative of Scripture.

God's assignments

For God is not unjust so as to overlook your work and the love that you have shown for his name in serving the saints, as you still do. (Heb 6:10 ESV)

For after all it is only just for God to repay with affliction those who afflict you, and to give relief to you who are afflicted and to us as well when the Lord Jesus will be revealed from heaven with His mighty angels in flaming fire, (2Th 1:6-7 NASB)

This verse in Hebrews struck me recently. How comforting that God will not forget my labor. But then how much labor have I actually put forth that He should be remembering? A quick perusing of the Faith Chapter (Hebrews 11) reveals that there are many who have labored much longer and more arduously than I have. I sit here with a full belly in a warm house in a free country with every physical need that I could imagine provided for. So what labor of mine could possibly be worthy of God’s remembrance? Should I somehow make myself more uncomfortable? Should I head off to a foreign land to be persecuted and martyred?

This is not the first time that these sorts of questions have come to mind. Other verses have struck similar chords. Jesus’ words, “If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you,” (John 15:20) or Paul’s, “Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life will be persecuted,” (2 Tim. 3:12) have dredged up questions about why I am able to live so comfortably while others truly are persecuted for the sake of righteousness. What’s more, I’ve not heard the voice of God commissioning me personally to take the gospel to any particular people or nation. Unlike many dramatic conversion narratives, both ancient and contemporary, mine will not be adapted for screenplays or books. I have no Damascus road experience, though God’s pursuit of my soul has been nothing less than awe inspiring to me—maybe because only He and I know how hard he presses on at times to take hold of me. The essential component that I see in retrospect that I was looking for was something sensational, publically sensational. But today that is not the call that God has given to me.

The questions of persecution and conversion were answered well by two different pastors at two different times. While voicing my concern that my life was not one of suffering or persecution, a wise pastor reminded me that Jesus himself, for thirty years, grew in favor with both God and men. It was only at the twilight of his life that persecution became of the ilk that we often conjure up in our minds. The issue of conversion experience was aptly answered by another pastor who noted that the conversion experience of most of the apostles was not recorded for us, probably because they weren’t dramatic or particularly noteworthy. While I think this likely, my firm conviction regarding my conversion came from reading Jesus words to Nicodemus in John 3:3, “Except a man be born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” I have seen the kingdom of God—the one spoken of by Daniel and ruled today by Jesus himself.

In response to the present concern—that my life is not laborious enough for God to remember—the pastor of the church that I currently attend gave some perceptive words. We aren’t given the luxury of evaluating the missions and assignments that God has given us to discharge. It is not for us to whine that our assignment is not more glamorous or fetching. God is in the business of furthering His kingdom and bringing glory to Himself through Jesus Christ. When we appear before the Father, we will be asked whether we obeyed him, whether we were the good and faithful servant, whether we did what God asked with what He gave us. We will not be asked why we weren’t given ten talents instead of five; we will be asked what we did with the five that were given to us.

God has given me so much: my amazing, beautiful wife Jess; an exciting and engaging occupation; the luxury of living near my family in an area that I love; but most importantly the adoption as His son through the sacrifice of His only begotten son, Jesus Christ. But in all of these blessings there is a responsibility, an assignment if you will, to be a good steward of the gifts that I have been given, to act, in whatever situation that I’m in, in a manner worthy of the gospel that I profess to herald. Frankly, these assignments have been tremendously enjoyable. But they are not sensational. If I love Jess as I ought and as God intends, God alone will know and maybe Jess. If I work with integrity and demonstrate the peace of Christ among what might be a stressful work environment, maybe no one else will even notice. God alone will know. If our family is bound tightly not because of blood ties but because of the ties of the Spirit, outsiders will simply chalk it up to dumb luck or perceptive parenting. God alone will know that we are bound by His Spirit. My prayers to God for many who do not yet know Him will never be published or even divulged. But God alone will know that it is with the love of Christ that I pray for them. In the end, God will ask me if I prayed for those He gave me to pray for, if I loved those I was given to love, if I spoke the words I was given to speak. On this basis He will say, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” These labors, which represent obedience to and consequently love for God, He will certainly not forget.

What is and what is to come

One of the more challenging aspects of being a Christian is the balance between what as, what is, and what is to come. The most common difficulty is mistaking what is to come for what is. In theological terms this is referred to as overrealized eschatology. Its manifestation is particularly prevalent in movements such as liberation theology and some social justice movements. (Interestingly, in both cases there is often an accompanying anachronistic application of what was for what is. But that’s a topic for another discussion.) But the topic that most concerns me is this mindset as it applies to preaching the gospel. My thinking today is motivated by 1 Peter 1, which clearly delineates between the now and the then.

What is the gospel? Is it good news to us? That Jesus died for our sins, according to Scripture; that he was descended from David, according to Scripture; that he rose from the dead, according to Scripture; are all critical ingredients of the gospel. But there is more. He’s coming again. It is then that he will bring justice to victory. It is then that our faith will result in praise, glory, and honor. It is then that our groaning to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling will be sated. Now we may suffer grief in various trials. Now we have trouble. (But take heart, Jesus has overcome the world!) It is not for this life that we have hope—it is for the next. It is those things which are unseen on which our eyes are fixed, those eternal things. Nevertheless, now we still taste and see that God is good. Today we can be filled with joy. Now we can still confidently hope.

The gospel apart from Jesus return and our being with him is no gospel at all. I fear that much evangelism preaches a gospel of comfort for our egos today and a “get out of hell free” card for the future. I seldom hear that we are to live here on earth as foreigners as we await the coming of our country. This partnership in the kingdom of heaven, of course, has radical implications for how we live today. But how we live today must be motivated by fixing our eyes on Jesus and being mindful of his return. To preach a change of behavior with the kingdom of heaven as an afterthought is to mistake the result for the cause. Only with eyes fixed on the kingdom of heaven can we exclaim with the apostle John, “Come, Lord Jesus!”

Peter, an apostle of Jesus Christ, To those who reside as aliens…Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His great mercy has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to obtain an inheritance which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, who are protected by the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ; and though you have not seen Him, you love Him, and though you do not see Him now, but believe in Him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, obtaining as the outcome of your faith the salvation of your souls. (1Pe 1:1-9)

Review of "On the Holy Spirit" by St. Basil the Great

Reading On the Holy Spirit by St. Basil the Great is somewhat like reading two books simultaneously. The title gives the first subject, the Holy Spirit. The second, the state of the fourth century church, occurs inadvertently. Both are educational and enjoyable. St. Basil begins his defense of the divinity of the Holy Spirit by showing the similarities between the language used to describe Jesus and the language used for the Holy Spirit. At the time of his writing, the question of the deity of Jesus is largely settled. (I recommend On the Incarnation by St. Athanasius for a good defense of Jesus’ deity.) The argument then progresses to show the distinction between the Holy Spirit and the Father and Son. Several examples are expounded, such as passages dealing with blasphemy of the Holy Spirit and the Spirit’s intercession for us. Thus, he articulates the unity and distinction of the Holy Spirit with and within the Godhead. Ultimately, his discussion is persuasive.

The other thread that runs through the book is the state of the fourth century church. I was particularly interested in the role that Scripture played in relation to the teaching of the Fathers. St. Basil acknowledges both, but uses Scripture almost exclusively for his defense—although his Scripture includes several apocryphal books. All of this is being written to a church in turmoil. St. Basil laments, “To what can I compare our present condition? It is like a naval battle, kindled by old quarrels, fought by men who love war, who cultivate hatred for one another…The disorder and confusion is beyond description….” The comfort in all of this is that if we think the faith is in turmoil now, it surely was then too. But the battle did not quench the faith that still prevails today. As G. K. Chesterton says, “Five times in history the faith has had all the appearance of going to the dogs. Five times it has been the dog that died.”