Bullinger on Literary Figūrae

“This peculiar form or unusual manner (i.e., figure of speech) may not be true, or so true, to the literal meaning of the words; but it is more true to their real sense, and truer to truth. Figures are never used but for the sake of emphasis. They can never, therefore, be ignored. Ignorance of Figures of speech has led to the grossest errors, which have been caused either from taking literally what is figurative, or from taking figuratively what is literal.”

E. W. Bullinger, The Companion Bible, App. VI

Two Interesting Chiasmi: St. Mark and Galatians

MARK 5:2—6: Jesus vs. Legion

A.        And when Jesus had stepped out of the boat,

immediately there met him out of the tombs

a man with an unclean spirit. 

B.        He lived among the tombs.

C.        And no one could bind him anymore,

not even with a chain,

D.        for he had often been bound with shackles

E.         and chains,

E.         but he wrenched the chains apart,

D.        and he broke the shackles in pieces.

C.        No one had the strength to subdue him. 

B.         Night and day among the tombs

and on the mountains he was always

crying out and cutting himself with stones. 

A.         And when he saw Jesus from afar,

he ran and fell down before him.

GALATIANS 2:16: Sola Fides

A.        we know that a (Gentile) person is not justified

B.        by works of the law but

C.        through faithfulness of Jesus Christ, so

D.        we (Jews) also have believed in Christ Jesus,

C.        in order to be justified by the faithfulness of Christ and

not by works of the law, because

B.         by works of the law

A.         no one (Jew or Gentile) will be justified.

Revelation: Three Identities Considered

Identity of the Four Horsemen of Rev. 6:1—8

In some measure, the general identity of the four horsemen is somewhat bound up in the more particular question concerning the identity of the first horseman, he that rides the white horse.  I understand this to be none other than Christ, who has conquered, is the Conqueror, and is coming as Conqueror in the unity and context of the book (Jn. 16:33; Rev. 1:13ff.; 2:26—27; 3:21; 5:5; 6:2, 16; 11:15; 12:11; 14:1, 14; 17:14, and of course 19:11).  As Hindson noted, this view has some historical traction.[1]  That notwithstanding, I would argue that it has the most promising exegetical traction as well. 

All perspectives, even those opposed, recognize that there is as obvious correspondence between the color of the horse ridden in 6:2f. and that of the pony in 19:11, where Christ is clearly identified as the rider.[2] Hindson, however, argued that apart from the color of the horse “there is no point of similarity between Christ and this [in 6:2f.] rider.[3]  However, consider the parallels between the contexts (from which the meanings arise).  In 19:11f. Christ “judges and goes to war” (cf. 6:4ff).  In both contexts, the rider is wearing a royal-victor headdress (6:2; 19:12); a blood issuing from judgment is highlighted (6:12; 19:13); white linen/robes occurs in both passages (6:11; 19:14); the judgment involves a sword in both contexts (6:4; 19:15), and both are understood to be the result of the Lamb’s/God’s wrath (6:16; 19:15).  So, yes, there are other similarities. 

Although Hindson seems to minimize the significance of the horse’s color as a clue to the rider’s identity, Ladd makes much of it.  As Ladd mentioned, “white is always a symbol of Christ, or of something associated with Christ, or of spiritual victory.”[4]  The antichrist in white is oxymoronic and counter to a most important motif in the book. 

Ladd himself denies that Christ is the rider.  Rather he understands it to represent the victory of the gospel.  “The rider is not Christ himself but symbolizes the proclamation of the gospel of Christ in all the world.”[5]  I know of no other instance were the victory or proclamation or expansion of the gospel enjoys the device of personification, which would be required here, if Ladd were correct.  It seems to me that Ladd is confusing the Who of the passage with the means of accomplishment.  Indeed, Christ rules with the Word of his mouth, the gospel; however, the text indicates the Rule, not how he rules.  What’s more from the context is judgment.  Of course the apostate world’s rejection of the gospel brings judgment, the context here suggest direct judgment for idolatry and the persecution of the saints.  

Furthermore, in his argument against this position and for the view that the future antichrist is the rider, Hindson remarked, “This rider’s [of 6:2] crown is called a stephanos, “victor’s wreath,” whereas, Jesus wears the diadema, “royal crown” (19:12).  This much must be granted; however, it is not very significant.  In 3:11, the word-keeping saints at Philadelphia were promised a stephanos that no one could take, as those worn by the white-linen clad twenty-four elders in 4:4, 10.  In 12:1, the remnant-woman of Israel is said to have had a stephanos of twelve stars.  And in 14:14, the Lord Jesus is wearing a stephanos.  On the contrary, as Hindson pointed out, in 19:12, Christ is wearing many diademata; but, so is the seven-headed dragon in 12:3, as is the seven-headed beast in 13:1.  Therefore, Hindson’s objection, based on the differences in headdress between Christ and the antichrist, is question-begging. 

Many other positive arguments point to Christ as the rider in 6:2.[6]

From the premise that Christ is the rider, it would seem that the three subsequent horsemen signify the various means by which Christ executes his judgments (cf. Lev. 26:18—28; Eze. 14:12—23; Zech. 1:8—15; 6:1—8 for formative OT background). 

The Identity of the 144,000 of 7:4—8, 14:1—5

Like Nathaniel, these are “Israelite(s) indeed, in whom is no guile” (Jn. 1:47; Rev. 14:5).  It must be agreed with Hindson, that “it is clear that these are literal Israelites.”[7]  The reference to mount Zion in 14:1 points plainly to Jerusalem.  In earlier chapters, the Revelator had scotching words for the blasphemous Jewry, “they that call themselves Jews, but are not,” rather they “lie” and are of the “synagogue of Satan” (2:9; 3:9).  The 144,000 therefore represent true Israel, the remnant church, which serve as a foil to these apostate Jews.  YHWH had promised to gather to himself the remnant of Israel, who would be settle among a throng from the nations.  As YHWH announced through the prophet Micah, “I will surely assemble, O Jacob, all of thee; I will surely gather the remnant of Israel; I will put them together as the sheep of Bozrah, as the flock in the midst of their fold: they shall make great noise by reason of the multitude of men” (2:12).  And, again, as Zephaniah described them, “The remnant of Israel shall not do iniquity, nor speak lies; neither shall a deceitful tongue be found in their mouth” (3:13), so too here in Revelation 14, for “in their mouth no lie was found, for they are blameless” (v. 5). 

However, my perspective is greatly at odds with Hindson’s, regarding when these “firstfruits” were/are harvested.  Hindson pushes this group into the indefinite future of a yet-to-come tribulation period.[8]  In contradiction, first, I believe the number is figurative rather than literal, whereas Hindson tends toward a literal reading.[9]  The remnant’s number is the tribes of Israel squared and multiplied by a thousand (12 x 12 x 1000), which is clearly symbolic, especially being found in the foremost symbolic and numerological book in the entire canon.  The number signifies Israel consummated, complete, and perfected.  The thousand multiple is likely based on the most basic military division used of the camp of the hosts of Israel in the OT (see Num. 10:2—4, 35—36; 31:1—5, 48—54; 2 Sam. 18:1; 1 Chron. 12:20; 13:1; 15:25; 26:26; 27:1; 28:1; 29:6; 2 Chron. 1:2; 17:14—19; Ps. 68:17).[10]  It is also worth noting that twelve and one thousand are later multiplied in the dimensions of eschatological City of the New Jerusalem, which is measured 12,000 cubed (Rev. 21:16).  Does this mean that the consummated Temple[11] will have the literal floor space of 2,250,000 square miles?  No.  Rather it is 12,000 times 12,000, which provides the sum of 144,000,000.  It is symbolic. 

Secondly, James addressed his epistle to the “twelve tribes in the dispersion” (1:1), which were the Jewish Christians that made up the primitive church, especially that in Judea.  These, said James, made up a “kind of firstfruits of his creatures” (Gk. aparchē; cf. Rev. 14:4).  In the context of the Paul fleshing out the redemptive-historical relationship between Jews and gentiles under the new covenant economy, he refers to the Jews as “firstfruits” (Rom. 11:16).  Elsewhere, Paul alludes to the firstfruit motif by referring to the first generation of Jewish converts to Christ as “we who were the first to hope in Christ might be to the praise of his glory” (Eph. 1:12).  Therefore, I understand the 144,000 to be the first generation of Jewish converts to the Messiah, and that their number is symbolically representing that of completion. 

Babylon the Great of Rev. 17 – 18

The epithet “Babylon the great” is likely based on Daniel 4:30, which couches it in worldly pride set in opposition to God’s kingdom.  Frankly, at this point I am divided between the view that posits Babylon as either the Roman Empire or the geographical Jerusalem of John’s day.  Although it is not without its difficulties (as though any view of the Apocalypse is!), I lean toward the latter, first century Jerusalem. Granting that no other book of the NT contains more OT allusions and echoes that Revelation, that must play an important interpretive role.  She is also called the “Mother of Harlots” (Rev. 17:5).  This title is said to be written on her forehead.  The forehead being a sign of hardhearted obstinacy toward YHWH (Eze. 3:6—9).  In Jeremiah 3:3, apostate Israel is said to have a “whore’s forehead.”  John’s most frequent appellation for Babylon, however, is the “great city” (Rev. 14:8; 17:18; 18:10, 16, 18, 19, and 21).  In 11:8 John said that “the great city…is where our Lord was crucified.”  This is clear reference to Jerusalem.  So, if Babylon is the great city, and the great city is Jerusalem, then it necessarily follows that Babylon is Jerusalem.  For a very competent consideration of the evidence for this position see D. Ragan Ewing’s “The Identification Of Babylon The Harlot In The Book Of Revelation,” especially chapter four.[12]   

While I have my reservations with either Rome, which has the vast majority of historical support, or Jerusalem, I am relatively sure that the Babylon of the Revelation is not some speculative revived Roman confederacy, as popularly held by many.  As Hindson recognized, Revelation is a sort of Tale of Two Cities.  “It sets forth the contrast between the…the city of the great harlot, and the city of the Bride of Christ, the New Jerusalem.  The great harlot is portrayed in direct opposition to the Bride of Christ.”[13]  If, however, the earlier observation that the true Jews, the 144,000 serve as a foil for the “synagogue of Satan,” then if Babylon is old Jerusalem it would specially serve as the foil for the New Jerusalem.  What I find most interesting is the view that posits Babylon as the apostate church.  What is interesting about this is that the same perspective argues that by Revelation 4:1, the true church is raptured out of the world.  One of the arguments for this is the idea that the church is not explicitly mentioned (by name I guess?) anywhere after that point in the text.  If that is the case, however, how then would these identify the false church here in chapters seventeen and eighteen?  Both conclusions rest on very shaky ground. 

---

[1] Edward Hindson, Revelation: Unlocking the Future (Chattanooga, TN: AMG Publishers, 2002), 81.

[2] See, e.g., Hindson, ibid.

[3] Ibid.

[4] George Eldon Ladd, A Commentary on the Revelation of John (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans Publishing, 1972), 97—98.  For an exhaustive list of the “white” stuffs in Revelation, see 98.

[5] Ibid., 99.

[6] Not least, there are strong parallels in the construction of the opening phrases. See, e.g.,

Καὶ εἶδον…καὶ ἰδοὺ ἵππος λευκός, καὶ ὁ καθήμενος ἐπ᾿ αὐτὸν…διαδήματα (19:11, 12)

καὶ εἶδον, καὶ ἰδοὺ ἵππος λευκός, καὶ ὁ καθήμενος ἐπ᾿ αὐτὸν…στέφανος (Rev. 6:2)

[7] Hindson, Revelation, 89.  As an aside, it bears pointing out that Hindson’s description of amillennialism on the same page, which began, “This approach sees no millennium of any kind on the earth.  Rather, amillennialists tend to view so-called millennial prophecies as being fulfilled in eternity,” is one of the poorer caricatures I’ve personally read.  

[8] Ibid., 93. 

[9] “The number seems to be literal.” Ibid., 89.

[10] David Chilton, Days of Vengence: An Exposition of the Book of Revelation (Horn Lake, MS: Dominion Press, 2006), 206—207.

[11]Note that the only other cube mentioned in the entire Bible is the holy of holies of the Solomonic temple (1 Kg. 6:20), which is where YHWH dwelt with his people, so too here.  

[12] As found at http://bible.org/series/identification-babylon-harlot-book-revelation.

[13] Hindson, Revelation, 173. 

Modified Idealism as the best approach to the Apocalypse

I find a dogmatic precommitment to any of the four generalized interpretive approaches to the Apocalypse to be stifling. Not one of the four—“not-literal or allegorical, preterist, historical, or futuristic”—[1]is without its serious problems. Each perspective presents objections to the others, which seem to cancel out their viability. For instance, the historicist or preterist may charge that the futurist reduces the bulk of the book (chs. 4—22) to meaninglessness for the original readers and hearers, since all is future. How, then, it may be asked, can John offer his beatific pronouncement on his first generation readers; further, what practical and liturgical purpose would the book hold for them (see 1:3)?

The futurist may respond in like fashion, though. If the preterist is correct, then another reductionism follows: Revelation is now little more than an historical documentation of some horrid happenings before and during the fall of Jerusalem in A. D. 70 (or the fall of Rome in the fifth century, depending on your tastes and historiography). This rally of objections and answers is nearly as abundant as the number of expositors and commentaries working through Revelation.

Therefore, I subscribe to what some have called “eclecticism”[2] or modified idealism. Such a view would deny any hard-line, static historical referents in the book,[3] save the final coming of the Lord Jesus in judgment, salvation and his consummating the new heavens and new earth at the end of the age. Concerning the literary structure of Revelation, I find the seven-fold progressive parallelism a helpful paradigm. Below are a few of the big-number reasons that I maintain this perspective.

First, any and all eschatological data I encounter in the Scriptures, I view through the lens of a two-age model.[4] Biblically speaking, human history, more specifically, redemptive history is divided into two ages, “this age...and the age to come.” Accordingly, Jesus’ First Advent inaugurated the age to come; the new creation has begun in his resurrection and exaltation. The new creation will be fully realized in the event of his Second Advent. We therefore live in the time of tension between these two ages or worlds. Thus, the time between Jesus’ first and second advents is the fulfillment of the OT’s “latter days.” This will become more relevant below. The modified idealism approach is most consonant with the two-age model of eschatology; and the two-age model has presuppositional priority in my overall approach to interpreting all of Scripture.

Secondly, another controlling presupposition for me is the hermeneutical maxim that Scripture interprets Scripture; and in that, the clear interprets the unclear. In short, this means that I will interpret Revelation in light of the rest of the NT. Revelation is the most symbol-laden book in Scripture and therefore must be considered in terms of the didactic sections of the gospels and epistles. I understand the latter as presenting God’s people/family as one; his plan to redeem these as one (not one for the Jews and one for the church); there will be one second return of Christ, one (physical) resurrection, one judgment, and these events are closely related in time; we are now in the “last days.” The symbolisms of Revelation will therefore be interpreted in light of these Matthew—Jude doctrines, not the other way around.

Finally, I take Rev 1:1 (w/ 1:19) to be the programmatic verse(s) for the interpretation of the book. This verse tells that the revelation of Jesus that John was given by the angel would be “signified.” Signified here is sēmainō, meaning signs, symbols, or tokens. Verse 1 is a clear allusion to Dan 2:28—29, 45. There are striking parallels in theme and phraseology between Rev 1:1, 19 and the Danielic counterpart. Furthermore, Rev 22 contains another allusion to Daniel 2, and so forming a likely inclusio that frames the entire book (see esp. vv 6, 10). Aside from the obvious discontinuities between Dan 2:28 and Rev 1:1, one is of special interest. Nebuchadnezzars’ dream was to symbolically reveal “what was to be in the latter days,” whereas John’s visions were to symbolically reveal “what must soon take place.” John, therefore, understood his and the church’s experience as the inception of the “latter days.” Something similar happens in Peter’s sermon in Acts 2. In v 16 Peter offers a “this is that” (KJV) interpretation of Joel 2, which was a prophecy of what would God would do “in the last days” (v 17). Therefore, John tells us at the start that the book is largely symbolic and is concerned with the fulfillment of the “latter days,” which is the church age.

Therefore, from an eclectic perspective, solid historical references are both recognizable and acceptable without precluding escalated future fulfillments of like kind (e.g., arche- à antitypal fulfillments). The book is also ever-relevant, since it is a strategy book for the church militant living between the two ages, promising the final victory of the Lamb and his Bride over the Beast and his Whore. Stressing the doctrinal priority of the rest of the NT helps to bring clarity to the often opaque mixed metaphors and symbols of Revelation.

[1] To use the titles ascribed by Walvoord, Revelation, 16—22
[2] E.g., Hailey, Beale.
[3] It does, however, recognize analogical historical applications throughout the church age.
[4] There is one sense in which all the “data” in Scripture is eschatological in that each datum is a part of the larger whole of God progressive plan of redemption, which moves ‘eschatologically’ from the fall toward the consummation.

John Walton on the use of the plural pronouns in Gen 1:26

I recently received John Walton’s NIV Application Commentary on Genesis from a good friend. Apart from a general dislike for the structural format of the series, the content has been both extremely insightful and bewildering at the same time.

Every one has their “thing,” their particular emphasis and specialty. Of course, Walton’s thing is ancient Near Eastern (ANE) background comparative studies. Walton’s emphasis provides us with fruitful reference material, which helps us to transcend our cultural situatedness and read the text of the OT through the lenses of reconstructed elements of an ANE paradigm. Walton’s contributions in this respect shine through in his part in the IVP Bible Background Commentary: Old Testament.

I’ve found times, however, in his Genesis commentary that this emphasis becomes so axiomatic for Walton that, the comparative analysis is held at the expense of the straight forward teaching in other biblical passages, not least the ones that are authoritatively interpreting the various Genesis texts he’s considering. Genesis 1:26 is a case in point.

Walton affords two-plus pages to the use of plural pronouns in reference to God in Gen 1:26 (i.e., “Let us...in our image”; see pp. 128—30). Walton sets forward three lines of reasoning used to deal with this anything but uncontroversial topic: 1) theological, 2) grammatical, and 3) cultural. The cultural perspective is later qualified as offering two differing veins, one of which is Walton’s preferred resolution for the plurals. Walton defines these three categories as follows:

1. Theological: The plurals are explained as an expression of the plurality within the Godhead, either specifically of the Trinity or at least as a recognition of the two persons represented by the creator God (elohim) and the Holy Spirit of verse 2.

2. Grammatical: The plurals are explained as an expression of grammatical or rhetorical conventions, including self-deliberation, plural of majesty, and grammatical agreement with the plural elohim.

3. Cultural: The plurals are explained against the background of ancient Near Eastern culture.

One of the cultural interpretive options is that the plurals represent a vestige of polytheism. Walton rightly dismisses this option out of hand, as it is the result of heterodox presuppositions that he (and most other students of the Bible) simply can’t adopt. The grammatical option even less attention before dismissal.

Granting the ANE background and other OT text such as 1 Kings 22:19—22; Is 14:13, and Job 1, Walton concludes that the cultural view that assumes the plurals are to be understood as representing a “heavenly court” comprised of angels is the best case hypothesis for reading Gen 1:26.

Walton’s positive conclusion notwithstanding, my concern with his handling of this verse is in connection with his dismissal of the theological reading of the plurals.

He begins by admitting that, “the theological is probably the most popular in traditional circles...” I’m sorry, but given the contemporary attitude towards anything “traditional,” this reads as poisoning the well—he has bent the reader toward his conclusion prior to hearing his argument, if, that is, the reader doesn’t understand themselves to be part of the “traditional circle.” Today, it is almost unanimous consensus that if something is coming from a traditional perspective, it is necessarily wrong or at very least needs serious questioning.

In addition, the statement reads as if the theological reading is held only by those in “traditional circles,” or in other words, modern “traditionalists,” a.k.a, anti-intellectual fundamentalists. How it ought to read, though, is that the theological view of Gen 1:26 comes not from a traditional “circle” but rather a long “line” of tradition. The theological reading has a sustained pedigree throughout the orthodox hermeneutical tradition.

For instance, if the Epistle of Barnabas sheds any light on the apostolic interpretation of this verse, then the following is significant. “For the Scripture says concerning us, while he speaks to the Son, ‘Let Us make man...’” (Barn., VI). Likewise, Irenaeus has this: “[T]he Son and Holy Spirit, to whom He says, ‘Let Us make man’” (AH, IV, Preface: 4). And again, “[T]he Son and Spirit, by whom and in whom...He made all things, to whom He also speaks, saying, ‘Let Us make man...’” (AH, IV:XX:1). Furthermore, Tertullian, in his treatise Against Marcion, says the same. “Since then he is the image of the Creator (for He, when looking on Christ His Word, who was to become man, said, ‘Let Us make man...’)” (Ch. VIII).

These men are not reading Gen 1:26 through highly developed, post-Nicene Christological/Trinitarian lenses; a charge that might be laid at the doorstep of Calvin, who concludes thus in his commentary of Genesis, “Christians, therefore, properly contend, from this testimony, that there exists a plurality of Persons in the Godhead. God summons no foreign counsellor; hence we infer that he finds within himself something distinct; as, in truth, his eternal wisdom and power reside within him.”

From these examples, the “traditional circle” boasts a 2000 year circumference; from the best minds in the faith, the theological view was the Patrological view and the Reformational view of the plurals in Gen 1:26. Shall we then throw this to the wind?

This, of course, provokes a question: How much authority ought ecclesiastical tradition and historical theology exercise over our hermeneutical practice today? Historically, Protestants, in response to the absolutism of the Romish doctrine of papal authority, have tended to overreact and do their interpretation in a vacuum. This attitude has been heightened and exaggerated by the individualistic and autonomous spirit resident in the various independent-fundamentalists movements of the 20th century, which scathes any tradition as being the “traditions of men” (as though they are not constructing a tradition of their own!).

Such an attitude is unwise at best (literally). And it seems that Walton shares some measure of this attitude toward the authority of our historical interpretive heritage.

Walton continues.

“[I]f we ask what the Hebrew author and audience understood, any explanation assuming plurality in the Godhead is easily eliminated. If the interpreter wishes to bypass the human author with the claim that God’s intention is what is important, there are large obstacles to hurdle. If divine intention is not conveyed by the human author, where is it conveyed?”

This last sentence begs some attention. The question seems loaded and rhetorical to me. If we answer this question with any dual agency theory, Walton has framed it so it would seem that we’re disparaging authorial intent (and adopting a quasi-dictation idea of inspiration). This works, however, only is we accept his equivocation.

Here Walton seems to be equivocating the terms “understood” and “conveyed.” This appears to me to be the only way for his argument to work. For if we take the terms to denote their usual lexical sense, then limiting our conclusions to what the human author and his contemporaries understood would eliminate not only plurality in the Godhead, but divine intention altogether, reducing the Bible to a monument of human literary genius. On the other hand, of course, we’re obligated to subscribe to the idea that the divine intention is conveyed (or carried through, communicated by, et cetera). However, it does not follow from the fact that the author’s own words are the vehicle of divine intent to the notion that the divine intention of the author’s words are strictly bound by the cultural categories and plausibility structure of the author and his contemporaries. This, though, is exactly what I believe Walton’s remarks “convey.”

Moreover, if the divine intention is constricted to the paradigmatic understanding of the author/audience, then what we commonly understand as “progressive revelation,” the organic escalation of God’s Self-disclosure in Scripture, is dependant on and subordinate to the cultural and sociological developments of ANE civilization. I believe this conclusion is as unavoidable as it is heterodox.

Finally, Walton says:

“Certainly, if the New Testament told us that the Trinity was referred to in this verse, we would have no trouble accepting that as God’s intention. But it is not enough for the New Testament to affirm that there is such a thing as the Trinity. That affirmation does not prove that the Trinity is referred to in Genesis 1:26. Without specific New Testament treatment, we have no authoritative basis for bypassing the human author.”

I’m inclined to respond to these remarks with tongue in cheek...

“Certainly, Mr. Walton, if the NT explicitly told us that ANE comparative analysis was the most proper means of extracting the divine intention from the OT texts, then we’d have no trouble accepting the primacy you afford the method. That modernistic methods like this exist, and can be brought to bear on the text of Scripture (working on the presupposition that the Bible is ordinary literature!), is not enough to convince us. Without specific NT use of this method, we have no authoritative basis for bypassing the Christological-Canonical reading used by the NT authors.”

The truth in this jest is this: Walton rightly appeals to later revelation, particularly that later than the Advent of Christ, Who is the Sum and Finale of God’s revelation to mankind, in order to establish an “authoritative basis” for the theological view. He believes there is none, so... But this seems like special pleading, since Walton has no NT basis for allowing ANE background analysis to be the final determiner in discovering the divine intention in the reading of Gen 1:26.

In Lk 24:25ff, the two on the road to Emmaus are upbraided by Jesus for their reading of the OT. “O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory? And beginning with Moses (i.e., Genesis) and all the Prophets, he interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself...Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures.” Further, Paul teaches that an Old Covenant reading that does not presuppose Christ is a “veiled” reading.

Does not, then, the NT train us to always take a Christ-first, theological reading, lest we too are “slow of heart to believe”?

And what of the logic of the NT? The NT presents Christ as the uncreated Creator, through whom all things, including man, were made. Moreover, the image-restoration texts (esp. Eph 4:24 and Col 3:10) teach us not only the essential attributes lost in the Fall, but also their recovery; our salvation is a progressive recreating into that originally good image of God in us, through the work of Christ and the Holy Spirit. Thus, without any self-consciousness of inconsistency, Paul presents us with the clear teaching in the renown ordo salutis, Rom 8:28--30, that our salvific reshaping is into the image of the Son. And John, when we shall inherit our full redemption, the resurrection and perfection of our bodies, 1 Jn 3:2. Good and necessary deduction from the NT data offers the very thing Walton claims is not there.

Nevertheless, beyond the logic of the NT, what about the explicit texts, such as Jn 1:1—3, Col 1:15f, and Heb 1:1—3? Where else did the early Church fathers get the notion that the plurals of Gen 1:26 were an intra-Trinitarian discourse? For Walton to claim that because these texts don’t explicitly read “Gen 1:26 is Uni-Plural Divine dialogue,” we must suspend judgment is unfair; for using the same rationale, he’d also have to suspend judgment that even there exists such a thing as the Trinity, since the NT doesn’t say so according to the rigors of his expectations.

So, while I’m finding some of Walton’s gleanings from his expert research in ANE background very helpful in many respects, there are several points in the commentary, such as this one, where he seems so stuck on his “thing,” his specialty, that he’ll slay both good exegesis and common sense on its altar (to use ANE language, that is;).