The Bible You Never Read

Before the crowds hear the Messiah’s word they are the object of his compassion and healing.  Having done nothing, nothing at all, they are benefited.  So grace comes before task, succour before demand, healing before imperative.  The first act of the Messiah is not the imposition of his commandments, but the giving of himself.  Today’s command presupposes yesterday’s gift (Davies & Allison, Matthew 1-7, International Critical Commentary, 427).

Adam was once our head.  He was put to the test to determine whether he truly wished to devote his whole life to the Lord.  Adam became unfaithful and rejected the Lord’s favor.  When the Lord Jesus took Adam’s place as our Head (of the covenant), the temptation had to be renewed since satan was bent on destroying the covenant.  In this temptation Christ not only had to show obedience but also had to justify and reconcile what Adam had ruined.  Therefore the temptation came to Him under different circumstances than it had to Adam.

After Jesus had been baptized and anointed, the Holy Spirit led Him out into the desert to be tempted by the devil.  The desert was quite a different place from the paradise in which Adam had lived.  In Paradise everything testified to God’s favor and communion, while the desert betrayed that everything had been forsaken by God and man because of our sins.  Everything had been in Adam’s favor, while Christ had everything against Him.  Despite the isolation of that forsaken place, Jesus had to hold on to God.

The popular handling of the text is to lambaste Noah for his drunkenness, and to lament how even the most righteous of men are still sinners.  Regarding this incident John Calvin wrote in his commentary on Genesis, “I rather suppose, that we are to learn from the drunkenness of Noah, what a filthy and detestable crime drunkenness is.  The holy patriarch, though he had hitherto been a rare example of frugality and temperance, losing all self-possession, did, in a base and shameful manner, prostrate himself naked on the ground, so as to become a laughing-stock to all.  Therefore with what care ought we to cultivate sobriety, lest anything like this, or even worse, should happen to us?”  And that is basic presupposition we have when we read this account, cultivated from our early days in Sunday School.  We start with a moralistic approach to the text, instead of a biblical-theological one.

However, a question that we do well to ask is, “Where is Noah condemned in the text?”  Or for that matter, where is Noah condemned for his actions anywhere in Scripture?  The simple fact of the matter is that the Bible doesn’t condemn Noah.  That being the case, perhaps we should not be so quick to condemn him either.  Granted, every English translation reads that Noah was drunk, and the Hebrew term can mean that.  However, it is also a word that can be translated “merry” as we read in Genesis 43:33 when Joseph’s brothers return with Benjamin to Egypt.  The last verse of the chapter reads, Portions were taken to them from Joseph’s table, but Benjamin’s portion was five times as much as any of theirs. And they drank and were merry with him. That is how we are to understand Noah’s drinking.  In Psalm 104 we read that wine is given to gladden the heart of man (v. 15), and in Judges 9 we read about wine that cheers God and men (v. 13).  Noah was not sinfully drunk, but had drunk to the point of merriness and sleepiness, and took a nap.  After all, wine can have a soporific effect.

Now, another question that naturally comes to mind has to do with Noah’s nakedness.  Again, the popular conception of the story is that Noah was so thoroughly drunk that he’d taken off his robes and was just passed out in his tent.  However, upon closer examination, this view cannot sustained by the text either.  We should not think that Noah was passed out naked in front of the opening of his tent, and Ham just happened to stroll by and finding it funny went and told his brothers.  The language indicates that Noah was “in the midst of his tent.”  And this would have been quite a sizable tent, and not like a tent we use to go camping.  This was Noah’s house.  He was in the midst of his home.  Also notice that Ham had to go inside his father’s tent to see his nakedness because the text clearly tells us that Shem and Japheth were “outside” (v. 22).  So, was it wrong for Noah to be naked in the privacy of his own tent, which acted as a covering for him?  Not in the least.  You can no more argue that his nakedness was sinful than you can that it is sinful for you to be naked in the privacy of your bedroom.  So then, why was Noah naked?  Because he was resting from his labors, and had removed his robe, his garment of authority.  Basically, Noah was a king, and he had set aside his kingly duties for a time to enjoy the wine from his vineyard.  In Leviticus 10 we see a similar pattern with the priests and Levites who were not to drink while they were serving in the tabernacle, as well as in the caution given regarding wine and kings in Proverbs 31:4-5.  In other words, don’t drink on the job.  Noah knows this, and so he’s off-duty when he drinks and takes a nap.  This understanding of the text is further indicated by the fact that upon Ham’s telling his brothers about their father, Shem and Japheth take the garment with which to cover their father.  The translations typically read “a garment,” but the definite article is there in the Hebrew, and for good reason.  Ham was the one trespassing where he didn’t belong, and was making a play for his father’s authority when he took the robe, eliciting his brothers’ collusion in the rebellion.  They would have nothing to do with it, and symbolically uphold Noah’s authority by placing the robe on their shoulders, and are sure not behold their father’s nakedness.  Noah wakes up from his nap, knows what his youngest son has done, and pronounces judgment (something kings do) for Ham’s sin.  And notice that the judgment has to do with authority and submission, which further indicates the nature of Ham’s sin, i.e. the punishment fits the crime.

So, that’s the argument in a nutshell, and there are probably some spots where a bit more detail would be helpful, but I trust this will suffice for the moment.  Also consider, that when Adam, Cain and the Sethites sinned earlier in Genesis, the text is clear about the judgment that God brought upon them as a result.  Here, Noah is not judged for sin.  Ham (via Canaan) is judged (and Noah is the one who pronounces the judgment!).  Therefore, Noah is not at fault, and we probably owe him an apology.

(For more nuance and detail, I commend to you chapter 4 of James Jordan’s Primeval Saints, where I was first introduced to this perspective on Noah in detail.   Admittedly, I was initially reticent to accept the position I’ve espoused above, but now having studied it in greater detail, I believe it is the most biblically consistent).

The Enoch Factor

by James B. Jordan

After Cain murdered Abel and was driven out of the land of Eden, we read that he had a son whom he named Enoch, and that he founded a city that he also named Enoch (Genesis 4:17). The city, we are told, was named for his son.

This was the first city ever built, but it will not be the last. The last city is the New Jerusalem, built by God the Father, and “named” for His Son. As Enoch was prince of the city of Enoch, so Christ is the Prince of the holy city.

The first city was built on the blood of a murdered brother. The last city is also built on the blood of a murdered younger brother, the Ultimate Younger Brother, Jesus Christ. Throughout the Bible we see younger brothers replacing older brothers because the older brother is unfaithful: Seth replaced Cain, Isaac replaced Ishmael, Jacob replaced Esau, Joseph replaced his brothers, David replaced his, etc. Jesus was the last Adam, the final younger brother, and His death is the foundation for the City of God.

Enoch did not plant a garden and then let it grow into a city. In this he was setting a course different from God’s. If we follow the history of the garden concept in the Bible, we find that Abraham and the patriarchs worshiped at oasis-sanctuaries characterized by altars, trees, and wells. Later, these elements were organized into a formal tent-centered sanctuary, the Tabernacle, as a place of worship. Still later, the Tabernacle grew into the Temple, and the Temple is set in a city, Jerusalem. In this way, God grows the city out of the garden. God grows a civilization up from the roots of agriculture.

Enoch started with a city. That means he started with a tyranny. The city becomes a place that conquers and enslaves the “peasants” and “serfs” of the agricultural countryside. Because the tyrant-city has no root it cannot last, but while it lasts it is brutal.

Enoch’s sin was like Adam’s. God had told Adam and Eve that every tree was for them to eat (Genesis 1:29). Thus, they could figure out that the forbidden tree was only temporarily forbidden. Their sin was that they would not wait for God’s permission. Similarly, Enoch was unwilling to work patiently and grow a city out of a garden. He jumped forward and tried to seize the final fruits of generations of labor: the glory of a city.

For a variety of reasons, the heathen often make more rapid initial cultural gains than do the righteous. The heathen are willing to enslave other people to work for them. The heathen don’t take one day in seven to rest. The heathen expend no psychological energy in repentance and striving against sin. Thus, the heathen get there first. This is what I call “the Enoch Factor.”

We see the Enoch Factor in Genesis 4. Not only did Cain build the first city, but his descendants became “fathers” (experts, teachers) of the sciences of animal husbandry, music, and metallurgy. The first poem in the Bible is put on the lips of a descendant of Cain (Genesis 4:20-24).

The Enoch Factor means that very often great advances in technique (not in philosophy) come from pagan sources. Usually the heathen get there first, and then the believers come after. Practically speaking, what does this mean?

First, it means that Christians must not be overwhelmed by the technological and artistic prowess of the heathen. In our society today, the best artists and technicians are almost never believers. We know from the Bible, however, that they have no root and will burn out. Our city is built more slowly, but it will endure forever. As history matures, Christianity will more and more become culturally dominant, and more and more we will see Christians “getting there first” in the arts and sciences.

Second, it means that Christians often must learn technique from the heathen. How foolish would it have been for Israelite herdsmen to refuse to manage their animals well, just because it was pagan Jabal who developed many fundamental techniques! And how sad if David had refused to learn music because Jubal got there first!

Now think about what this may mean. Often pietistic Christians are critical of their brethren in the arts because artistic Christians rub shoulders with degenerate heathen. Indeed, a Christian artist may have to apprentice himself to a degenerate heathen. Are we mature enough to support our Christian brethren in this?

The arts are very powerful, because art enhances belief by means of emotion. Thus, the Christian who studies with Jubal must be very careful and be sure to keep separate the study of technique from the adoption of a philosophical outlook. Still, greater is He that is in us than he that is in the world, and the Christian is called to take dominion in all areas of life. We can learn from the world, and should be bold to do so.

The proper context for study of the techniques of Enoch is the Church. We need the teaching and sacramental community of a local church as a support base, a garden, the whole time we are studying in the world. Apart from such a context, we run the danger of being sucked in by the philosophy of Enoch.

Originally published:

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Views & Reviews

No. 21 Copyright (c) 1994 Biblical Horizons May, 1994

Setting the Lord’s approach to Adam before the eyes of our faith, I cannot help but wonder if there is not a pattern for our own confession displayed here.  Certainly the bible has a lot more to say about the confession of sin, but what if we approach our own confession from the perspectives of relationship, identity, and obedience?  This might sound overly simplistic, but what about approaching our children’s confession of sin this way, too?  Instead of just asking them, “What’s your sin?” perhaps we would do well to ask them or remind them about their relationship to the Lord (and to you as a parent); their identity as a baptized believer and who God is; and then come to the matter of their disobedience.  The Lord’s questions to Adam are asked in a context of remarkable grace and patience.  God is there as Judge to be sure, but He is also there as Yahweh, the covenant-keeping God who does not fail, even when His people do.  He is the Heavenly Father who will not abandon His first son, but who goes after him in order to restore him.  Likewise, let our confession and the confession of our children be made in the same context of love and mercy.

“Evangelical defeatism is a failure of Biblical perspective. After all, the risen Lord Jesus has been given all authority in heaven and on earth and has been made head over all things for the Church; he is the ruler of the kings of the earth and he is currently putting his enemies beneath his feet; he has presumably asked the Father for the nations as his inheritance and the ends of the earth as his possession – and so he will receive them. All nations will bow to Jesus and all kings will serve him and his kingdom will grow to become the largest plant in the garden with the nation-birds finding rest in its branches. His kingdom is the stone which crushed the kingdoms of men in Daniel 2 and which is growing to become a mountain-empire which fills the whole earth. He is the firstborn from among the dead and therefore it is right that in all things he has the first place. He has been highly exalted and not only will every knee bow to him but every knee should bow to him.

“Evangelical defeatism is a failure of historical perspective. After all, the statistics are out there. It took 1400 years for 1% of the world’s population to become Christians and then another 360 years for that to double to 2%. Another 170 years saw that grow from 2% to 4% and then, between 1960 and 1990 the proportion of the world’s population made up of Bible-believing Christians rose from 4% to 8%. Now, in 2007, one third of the world’s population confesses that Jesus is Lord and 11% of the world’s population are “evangelical” Christians. The evangelical church is growing twice as fast as Islam and three times as fast as the world’s population. South America is turning Protestant faster than Continental Europe did in the sixteenth century. South Koreans reckon that they can evangelize the whole of North Korea within five years once that country opens up. And then there’s the Chinese church consisting of tens of millions of Christians who have learned to pray, who have confidence in Scripture, who know about spiritual warfare, have been schooled in suffering and are qualified to rule. One day in the next century that Church – tens of millions of Christians trained to die – will be released into global mission and our prayers for the fall of Islam will be answered.”

“Music, as I said, teaches patience, but that formulation is too intelluctualist, as if I am standing back, watching myself listen to music, and then concluding, ‘Ah, yes.  I see that I am supposed to learn patience from the experience of listening to music.’  Much better to say that music trains us in patience.  It trains us in moving through dissonance and tension toward resolution.  It trains us in waiting for the climax, waiting for beauty to build and build.  It trains us not to seize.  Music trains us in good sex, sex that takes time” (52-53).

Dr. Leithart continues to make his case, describing the musicality of a text, particularly in that music and text share the quality of their meaning being unfolded over time.  “Texts are musical in that they take time, and the time texts take is musical time.  The time of music and the time of texts always involves reaching for the next moment.  Music is always moving toward the next note, and we are always reading beyond the individual word.  Each sentence compels us to move forward; each paragraph carries us along to the denouement” (53).

These realities have profound implications, particularly in relation to our hearing the biblical text.  Given the instantaneous nature of our society, we must recognize the challenges that face us, as well as be aware of our tendencies.  “We are often impatient with music, and we are impatient with texts.  A writer lingers, and we want to grab him by the throat and say, ‘Get to the point, man!’  Evangelicals would reverently refrain from throttling an apostle, but the demand for practical Bible teaching often has this threatening subtext.  ‘Don’t give me all these names, lists, genealogies, stories.  Tell me what to do.  Tell me about Jesus.’

“God in his infinite wisdom decided to give us the a book, a very long book, and not a portrait or an aphorism.  God reveals himself in his image, Jesus, but we come to know that image by reading, and that takes time.  God wants to transform us into the image of his image, and one of the key ways he does that is by leading us through the text.  If we short-circuit that process by getting to the practical application, we are not going to be transformed in the ways God wants us to be transformed.  ‘Get to the point’ will not do because part of the point is to lead us through the labyrinth of the text itself.  There is treasure at the center of the labyrinth, but with texts, the journey is as important as the destination.  ‘Get to the point, man’ is the slogan of the the liberal theologian; it is a demand for the kernel without the annoying distraction of the husky twists and turns of the text itself.

“We cannot get the meaning of a text without taking time.  And as the text takes time, the meanings of earlier texts shift with the introduction of later texts.  The meanings of the texts emerge through the time of reading” (55).

1. Gabriel is sent to a city of Galilee (26).  Mary goes to a town in Judah (39).
2. Gabriel greets Mary (28).  Mary greets Elizabeth (40).
3. Mary reacts to Gabriel’s greeting (29).  John (in the womb) and Elizabeth react to Mary’s greeting (41-42)
4. Gabriel announces God’s favor and that Mary’s womb will bear the Son of the Most High (30-33).  Elizabeth announces blessing on Mary’s position among women and the fruit of her womb (42).
5. Mary asks a question (34).  Elizabeth asks a question (43).
6. Gabriel reveals the Lord’s plan and that Elizabeth is with child (35-37).  Elizabeth reveals her child’s reaction and blesses Mary for believing the Lord’s plan (44-45) (a subtle chiasm, perhaps?).
7. Mary responds to Gabriel’s words (38).  Mary responds to Elizabeth’s words (46-55).
8. Gabriel departs (38).  Mary departs (56).

At the very least, we can conclude that the text is masterfully written.  As to why Luke would employ this pattern is a more difficult question to answer.  However, if we examine the overarching patterns of Luke 1-7, we observe that the scenes switch back and forth between John and Jesus, with Jesus receiving the greater amount of attention and detail.  This might give us a clue as to what Luke is doing in chapter 1.  By employing these parallels, Luke is emphasizing the announcement of Jesus’ birth, and building the anticipation for its fulfillment.  But note again how Luke crafts the story.  No sooner does Mary depart from Elizabeth’ s home in v. 56, then the scene switches to the account of John’sbirth.  We are left in suspense for twenty-two verses!  We have to wait all the way until chapter 2 to read about Jesus’ birth.  Then, with the help of angels and shepherds, we begin to understand why Luke went to such great lengths to craft the accounts of chapter 1.