Grace Upon… Grace?

The relationship between the Law and the New Covenant (and Christ followers) continues to be a source of debate and interest. This post will by no means address this large topic, but it’s important to note when translation choices seem to import theological frameworks and presuppositions. Take for example, John 1:16-17. Here are some translations that, in my opinion, do a poor job because they import a contrasting conjunction (“but”) that simply is not in the Greek text. (And yes, ignore all of the other interpretive liberties the NLT takes for now).

NLT: ¹⁶From his abundance we have all received one gracious blessing after another. ¹⁷For the law was given through Moses, but God’s unfailing love and faithfulness came through Jesus Christ.
NET: ^1:16For we have all received from his fullness one gracious gift after another. ^1:17For the law was given through Moses, but grace and truth came about through Jesus Christ.

Both of these translations take the step of adding the “but,” which again, is not in the text. If the idea is that there is a material contrast between the Law and the Gospel of Christ, then this would be warranted. But is there? If there isn’t, then the translations inappropriately mar the Law, suggesting that it is something that isn’t of grace as well. Here is the ESV which uses a semi-colon (similarly to the NIV and the NASB, among others).

ESV: ¹⁶For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. ¹⁷For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.

In my opinion, this is an appropriate translation as it leaves open to interpretation whether there is some semblance of contrast, or rather, whether we are talking about a grace (in Christ) coming after a former grace (in the Law). In view of my reading of v. 16, this is the interpretive move I make.

Another option, though, lies in the CSB, which I think takes the cake here:

CSB: Indeed, we have all received grace upon grace from his fullness, for the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. — John 1:15-17

This translation more clearly connects the ideas between the two verses, and I feel that this clears up what is being talked about quite a bit. It’s just a nudge, but it’s a nudge in what I feel is the right direction. And it’s a perfectly defensible nudge, as the ὅτι (“for,” “because,” “since,” etc.) that begins v. 17 wants to give an explanation for the statement in v. 16. Reading this translation, it seems clear that the “grace upon grace” is the Gospel “upon” the Law, so to speak.

I will give “fair play” to the NET (which, for the record, I really appreciate as a translation), since they explain their translation choice in their notes and clear up the reality that the “but” is supplied:

“But” is not in the Greek text, but has been supplied to indicate the implied contrast between the Mosaic law and grace through Jesus Christ. John 1:17 seems to indicate clearly that the Old Covenant (Sinai) was being contrasted with the New. In Jewish sources the Law was regarded as a gift from God (Josephus, Ant. 3.8.10 [3.223]; Pirqe Avot 1.1; Sifre Deut 31:4 §305). Further information can be found in T. F. Glasson, Moses in the Fourth Gospel (SBT).
Biblical Studies Press, The NET Bible First Edition; Bible. English. NET Bible.; The NET Bible (Biblical Studies Press, 2005).

It seems here that the committee was a little divided. The text itself implies a contrast, but the note explains that the Law should still be seen as “a gift,” which we might indeed call “grace.” I suppose they are simply giving credence to both translational moves, and for that I am appreciative.

Where does this leave us? It’s important to recognize that all translations make interpretive moves. Granted, some make a whole lot more than others, but there’s no such thing as a perfectly “literal” translation. (In fact, my personal view is that a little interpretive guidance within a translation is better for the average reader than more vague translations that leave open interpretive possibilities that clearly shouldn’t be there.)

The issue at stake in this example though is how Christians look at the Law, and whether they see it as bad, irrelevant, or as something that reveals sin while offering no grace. I find this to be an overly simplistic and reductionistic view of the Law. It doesn’t seem honest with the way scripture talks about itself. Christians should say with Paul, “in my inner being I delight in God’s law” (Ro 7:22, NIV). In this way, we see the Law as a grace as well.

Exchanging Fear for Fear

If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities,
O Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,
that you may be feared.
Psalm 130:3-4

Are you still undone by the thought of your forgiveness? Do you fall on your face in amazement on account of his grace?

You certainly still should!

Think, not too long but just long enough, on your many shortcomings and sins. The times in which you’ve failed others or broken good faith with them. The times in which you’ve even dealt unrighteously, even with God. “If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities… who could stand?”

We could not stand, not for a moment. Frightful realizations fill the minds of those who brave such a meditation.

But the psalmist is quick to say, “but with you there is forgiveness.” When the danger is accurately apprehended, the salvation feels all the sweeter. While we cannot appreciate something which we ignore (indeed, the truth that Jesus dies for sins is a mockery to those who reject sin itself), we appreciate and savor all the more that which we reflect on.

Your sins are very great. And you could never stand before God. And yet with him is forgiveness and pardon.

Curiously, the psalmist suggests that a result of this is fear, but how could the solution to the fear of being cast down in God’s presence be fear again? The solution is that this use of fear speaks of worship and awe.* Consider Deuteronomy 10:12-13,

¹²“And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you, but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, ¹³and to keep the commandments and statutes of the Lord, which I am commanding you today for your good?

Mentally walk through the thoughts of this psalm and exchange your fear for fear. Let the great grace that has come upon you in forgiveness move you to a new kind of fear––to walk in God’s ways, love him, serve him, and keep his commands. Indeed, his burden is comparatively light.

* Willem VanGemeren, ed., New International Dictionary of Old Testament Theology & Exegesis (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan Publishing House, 1997), 529.

To “Nu” or Not to “Nu?”

The NIV ‘11 of 1 Thessalonians 2:7a:

Instead, we were like young children among you…

The ESV:

But we were gentle among you, …

Based on the NIV, I was going to write a post about how we are to be humble in our Gospel-sharing, but then the ESV went and ruined that by suggesting that the word is “gentle” instead of “young children.”

This comes down to a textual variant in the manuscripts. Some say ἤπιοι (“ēpioi,” meaning gentle) and others say νήπιοι (“nēpioi,” meaning infants/children). The preceding word ends in a nu (“ν”), so the question becomes, did a scribe mistakenly duplicate the nu or was it accidentally deleted?

Here is the context of the NIV, 1 Thessalonians 2:7-8

7 Instead, we were like young children among you. Just as a nursing mother cares for her children, 8 so we cared for you. Because we loved you so much, we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well.

And the ESV:

7 But we were gentle among you, like a nursing mother taking care of her own children. 8 So, being affectionately desirous of you, we were ready to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you had become very dear to us.

As you can see, other questions abound here concerning the other various clauses. (Remember, there was no punctuation when these words were transcribed. All of that had to be decided upon later). These modifications seem to be due to our little textual variant.

What does this tell us? Well, a little nu can make a big difference! But, what does this say about scripture? I’m sure God could have sovereignly overridden this error if He wanted it to remain perfect!

So why didn’t He?

Of course I cannot know, but maybe God allowed this–yes, rather small and insignificant–mistake to persist to remind us of our humanity–our distinct “otherness” in relation to God. While there is no fault in Him, we fail to simply copy things down.

Or, perhaps it is to remind us that God uses people to accomplish his purposes. All throughout the Bible we find God’s plan being carried out by men and women unqualified to do so. God uses people like Samson, Gideon, and Saul: selfish men who hardly seem reliable for noble tasks. And yet, God uses them.

And whether or not we get all of our nu’s in the right places (we can’t), God can employ us too. Even for the missions we are sure to taint along the way.

God’s Remarkable Response to David’s Sin

Psalm 38 finds David in a low place, brought low by his sin. Whereas in other Psalms he lays claim on his innocence and seeks deliverance, here he bemoans of his guilt.

There is no soundness in my flesh because of your indignation;

there is no health in my bones because of my sin. -Psalm 38:3

In this couplet, David suffers a strickenness in direct result of his sin. We find it throughout the Psalm.

For my iniquities have gone over my head; like a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me.

My wounds stink and fester because of my foolishness,

I am utterly bowed down and prostrate; all the day I go about mourning.

But David’s desolate condition is not merely the result of sin: he suffers too from the hand of God.

I know this because verse 3 informs me of it. The lack of health and soundness in David’s body is given two causes. These are God’s indignation and David’s sin, and they are inextricable.

To think that God is so gracious to be ambivalent to our sin is to misunderstand God and to belittle the devastation of sin. It is also to misunderstand grace.

Sin is not a mere quirk or untimely hiccup, it is an offense against God.

Grace is not overlooking sin, but acknowledging it face on and atoning for it. Hearing the vulgar rebukes of his mockers, Jesus, pinned to the stake cried, “Father, forgive them! For they know not what they do.” Jesus embodies perfect grace.

And God would not be God if our sin did not stir within Him an indignation. He is the Holy One.

God cares too much about us to be the ambivalent friend. Indeed, God disciplines those he loves, that they might not suffer continually from their sin. David tangibly describes God’s discipline in verse 2:

For your arrows have sunk into me,

and your hand has come down on me.

The greatest reminder from this Psalm for me is that my sin affects God and rouses from Him a response. Here it is called indignation. Paul later calls it grief (Eph 4:30). It is remarkable that the Infinite, Perfect, and Immense Creator of the Universe could have such an affection for me that my minute comings and goings could sway Him–Him! That truth is indeed too marvelous to behold.

We could never comprehend the complexities of the emotions of God, nor the perfect means by which God mingles his love for his children with his hatred of sin. But as we grow nearer to his heart, the more wisely will we live and the more fully will we love. While my sin is forgiven and atoned for, it still stirs the heart of my Father. May I be sensitive to Him and desire deeply to please Him. God help me!

God, Genocide, and the Big Red Button

To read the Bible is to grapple with the ugliest shades of life. Shades of darkness, terror, incest, war, rape, and the like. Contrary to our childhood Sunday school classes, many of the stories are starkly graphic and disturbing.
Why?

Well, it is unfortunately true to life. It is not unfortunate that the Bible is continually relevant for thousands of years, but rather it is unfortunate that life is indeed so grim.

The following passage reveals a grim moment.

Thus says the LORD of hosts,

“I have noted what Amalek did to Israel in opposing them on the way when they came up out of Egypt. Now go and strike Amalek and devote to destruction all that they have. Do not spare them, but kill both man and woman, child and infant, ox and sheep, camel and donkey.”

– 1 Samuel 15:2-3

In this passage, we see the LORD commanding Saul to destroy the Amalekites, and later, He enables Saul to essentially do so. Some escape (we see their descendents harassing future Israel), and Saul does not follow his order completely. But largely, this genocide does indeed occur, which raises some questions: why would God order a war of this scale, eliminating even the women and children? And how can this God be good or trustworthy?

My intention is to show that God is good–indeed the source of all Goodness and in Himself Goodness perfected.

It is common for a pastor or teacher to give all of the reasons why such a commissioned catastrophe would be warranted. And, granted, surely there are many. The sins of the Amalekites is no small measure. And for Israel to remotely survive, they need to be defeated. But even such an explanation would likely be challenged by many who argue for the innocence of–at least–the children. So, the argument that the Amalekites got what was coming to them, may not stand in the eyes of our culture.

How then, can God still be good?

God is still good here only if indeed we and the Amalekites have total depravity–meaning, the only way God is righteous is if the children are truly unrighteous and if unrighteousness’ penalty is death.

There is no room in the Bible for the humanist view that people are innately good. Our world should convince us otherwise, but those that disregard diety must–for the sake of their sanity–find goodness somewhere. In the Bible, God is God and the only one that is Good. He is perfectly just in taking life. He owes us nothing. To our American, man-centered brains, this bewilders and frustrates. We want a God that is man-centered: working tirelessly for our “glory.”

But do we really?

Do we actually want a God that is man-centered in His workings? A God that would never be capable of killing the Amalekites?

I contend we do not.

Our souls were made for basking in glory. We cry and quiver and shout in stadiums and theaters and National Parks–places designated for displaying glory. But even our best worldly commencements and parades and victories fail us. Our sports icon spouts off racist remarks. Our American hero cheats on his spouse. Our elected officials make mistakes. Under the costume or uniform, we know that it’s a lie. Their glory is tainted; our satisfaction in vain.

A God who intentionally purported such glories of man, would do unto us the worst evil. It would be like being served a veggie burger when one asked for beef.

God is good because He is committed to glorifying Himself to us. It is indeed only what will satisfy us. A God so committed to man that He would be incapable of judging people or killing the Amalekites is no God at all. He would be but a cosmic prostitute–a play-thing for self-enjoyment.

It is difficult to overcome a man-centered worldview, even as a Christian. But a thorough knowledge of our depravity should help. We should know that inwardly we are all tainted pictures. None deserve their life–not to mention an eternal one. And yet God gives more grace. And yet He loves. It is refreshing to return to a true consciousness of our sin, for confession begets repentance. And repentance is the true calling of a perfect God to a broken man. Praise God for His relentless invitation to repent in the midst of our deep depravity.