Category: The Bible

Tim Keller on Pleasing God, Self-Salvation, and Two Lost Sons

The Bible’s most potent depiction of this truth—that there’s more than one way to be lost—is crystallized in Luke 15:11–32.

April 24, 2025 by: Matt Smethurst

Two Lost Sons

The Bible’s most potent depiction of the truth that there’s more than one way to be lost is crystallized in Luke 15:11–32. The broad outline of the parable is familiar: a father has two sons, the younger of whom demands his share of the inheritance and then moves to a far country, where he squanders it on wild living. Eventually, after coming to his senses, the prodigal returns home empty-handed and broken; he simply hopes his father will take him back as a hired servant. But seeing his wayward son from a long way off, the father runs to meet him and requests a party thrown in his honor.

Many people tend to stop there, at least in terms of emphasis, which is why it’s known to history as the parable of the prodigal son—singular. But the returning son isn’t the only prodigal. That’s actually the whole point. Jesus is not addressing the wayward but is aiming the story, like a heatseeking missile, at the religiously devout. Note the context of the chapter:

Now the tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear [Jesus]. And the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.” So he told them this parable. . . . (Luke 15:1–3)

In light of the audience, then, we dare not overlook the dramatic final scene:

Now [the father’s] older son was in the field, and as he came and drew near to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called one of the servants and asked what these things meant. And he said to him, “Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fattened calf, because he has received him back safe and sound.” But he was angry and refused to go in. His father came out and entreated him, but he answered his father, “Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command, yet you never gave me a young goat, that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fattened calf for him!” And he said to him, “Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. It was fitting to celebrate and be glad, for this your brother was dead, and is alive; he was lost, and is found.” (Luke 15:25–32)

On September 11, 2005, Keller preached a sermon titled “The Prodigal Sons”—plural—which became the genesis of his 2008 bestseller The Prodigal God: Recovering the Heart of the Christian Faith. This book captures the most distilled essence of Keller’s teaching regarding the heart. Near the beginning he credits a sermon on Luke 15 by his mentor, Ed Clowney, that altered his understanding:

Listening to that sermon changed the way I understood Christianity. I almost felt I had discovered the secret heart of Christianity. Over the years I have often returned to teach and counsel from the parable. I have seen more people encouraged, enlightened, and helped by this passage, when I explained the true meaning of it, than by any other text.1

That last sentence is a remarkable statement. What about the parable is so powerful? If you compare the teaching of Jesus to a lake, Keller says, this parable is “one of the clearest spots where we can see all the way to the bottom.”2 And that’s because what Jesus says about the elder brother is one of Scripture’s most vital teachings.3 We impoverish ourselves, therefore, when we fixate on the younger brother:

The first time I heard the parable, I imagined Jesus’s original listeners’ eyes welling with tears as they heard how God will always love and welcome them, no matter what they’ve done. We sentimentalize this parable if we do that. The targets of this story are not “wayward sinners” but religious people who [think they] do everything the Bible requires. Jesus is pleading not so much with immoral outsiders as with moral insiders. He wants to show them their blindness, narrowness, and self-righteousness, and how these things are destroying both their own souls and the lives of the people around them. It is a mistake, then, to think that Jesus tells this story primarily to assure younger brothers of his unconditional love.4

Apart from Jesus Christ, flagrant lawbreaking and fastidious rule keeping are dead ends. In Keller’s words: “Jesus’s purpose is not to warm our hearts but to shatter our categories.”5

Each brother in the parable represents “a different way to be alienated from God”6—and both ways are strikingly resonant with the latemodern West. Keller dubs the approaches “the way of moral conformity and the way of self-discovery.”7 In fact, he observes, Western culture is “so deeply divided between these two approaches”8 that it’s difficult to imagine an alternative option:

If you criticize or distance yourself from one, everyone assumes you have chosen to follow the other, because each of these approaches tends to divide the whole world into two basic groups. The moral conformists say: “The immoral people—the people who ‘do their own thing’—are the problem with the world, and moral people are the solution.” The advocates of self-discovery say: “The bigoted people—the people who say, ‘We have the Truth’—are the problem with the world, and progressive people are the solution.” Each side says: “Our way is the way the world
will be put to rights, and if you are not with us, you are against us.”9

But King Jesus is not kind to false dichotomies. Nor is he beholden to natural expectations:

So we have two sons, one “bad” by conventional standards and one “good,” yet both are alienated from the father. The father has to go out and invite each of them to come into the feast of his love. . . .

But Act 2 comes to an unthinkable conclusion. Jesus the storyteller deliberately leaves the elder brother in his alienated state. The bad son enters the father’s feast but the good son will not. The lover of prostitutes is saved, but the man of moral rectitude is still lost. We can almost hear the Pharisees gasp as the story ends. It was the complete reversal of everything they had ever been taught.10

Both sons are lost, but only one knows it. You are lost, Jesus is saying, but you refuse to know it.

Self-Salvation Projects

It’s sobering to notice that when the older son protests, “Look, these many years I have served you, and I never disobeyed your command” (Luke 15:29), the father doesn’t disagree! His firstborn has been obedient; he has done everything “right.” And ironically, it’s keeping him fromthe feast. His outward goodness—and resultant pride—has erected a barrier between him and the father’s love.

An elder-brother mindset can haunt us all. Keller offers an example:

I knew a woman who had worked for many years in Christian ministry. When chronic illness overtook her in middle age, it threw her into despair. Eventually she realized that deep in her heart she felt that God owed her a better life, after all she had done for him. That assumption made it extremely difficult for her to climb out of her pit, though climb she did. The key to her improvement, however,was to recognize the elder-brother mindset within.

Elder brothers obey God to get things. They don’t obey God to get God himself—in order to resemble him, love him, know him, and delight him. So religious and moral people can be avoiding Jesus as Savior and Lord as much as the younger brothers who say they don’t believe in God and define right and wrong for themselves.11

The stakes are that high. If you think God should accept you because you’re good, “then Jesus may be your helper, your example, even your inspiration, but he is not your Savior.” How could he be? You are occupying that role.11 Keller concludes,

So there are two ways, not one, to be your own Savior and Lord: you can break all the moral rules and chart your own course, or you can try keeping all the external moral rules and seek to earn heaven’s favor. Both are strategies for avoiding God. Apart from Jesus Christ, every person is “dedicated to a project of self-salvation, to using God and others in order to get power and control for themselves. We are just going about it in different ways.”12

King Jesus is not kind to false dichotomies. Nor is he beholden to natural expectations.

Equally Wrong, Not Equally Dangerous

By the end of Jesus’s parable, only one son has been reconciled to his father. Why conclude like this? Why not show us a redemptive arc for Tim both brothers? The reason certainly isn’t that elder brothers are hopeless; if they were, the father wouldn’t have gone into the field and pleaded at all. We can’t know for sure, of course, but perhaps Jesus is conveying that while “both forms of the self-salvation project are equally wrong,” they are not “equally dangerous.”13 The younger brother’s rebellion is obvious; the elder brother’s is not. And therein lies the danger:

He would have been horribly offended by the suggestion that he was rebelling against the father’s authority and love, but he was, deeply. Because the elder brother is more blind to what is going on, being an elder-brother Pharisee is a more spiritually desperate condition. “How dare you say that?” is how religious people respond if you suggest their relationship with God isn’t right. “I’m there every time the church doors are open.” Jesus says, in effect, “That doesn’t matter.”14

The takeaway, Keller says, is shocking: “Careful obedience to God’s law may serve as a strategy for rebelling against God.”15 He often returned to an image of two people sitting side by side in the same pew—hearing the same sermons, singing the same songs, engaging in the same spiritual activities—but for utterly different reasons. One does it all to please God; the other does it to justify self.

And yet on the outside, they look exactly the same.16

The True Elder Brother

When it comes to pleasing God, both the rebellious path and the religious path are dead ends. But Jesus shows us a more excellent way. It is not a comfortable middle option between earthly extremes, for his gospel occupies a transcendent plane.17

In the parable, the older son should have gone into the far country in pursuit of his wayward brother. He should have rejoiced at his return. He should have gladly relinquished part of his inheritance in order to reinstate his brother’s. He should have joined the party. But, as Keller observes, “By putting a flawed elder brother in the story, Jesus is inviting us to imagine and yearn for a true one.”18

Jesus Christ is the ultimate elder brother who didn’t just travel to a far country; he descended from heaven to earth to seek and save the lost. “Who is the true elder brother?” Keller asked in a funeral sermon for his own younger brother Billy. “Who is the one who truly obeyed the Father completely? Who truly has lost his robe so he [could] put it on us? Jesus!”19 He is the “God of Great Expenditure,”20 who, at infinite cost to himself, paid our debt and now binds our wounds and brings us home to the Father.

This message is true, but it’s not tame. The process of reckoning with it is disruptive to idol-ridden hearts. Keller recounts a time when a woman coming to Redeemer was hearing, for the first time, that she could be accepted not on the basis of her behavior but by God’s sheer grace. Keller was intrigued by her response: “That is a scary idea! Oh, it’s good scary, but still scary.” When he asked what was so scary about unmerited free grace, she replied,

If I was saved by my good works—then there would be a limit to what God could ask of me or put me through. I would be like a taxpayer with rights. I would have done my duty and now I would deserve a certain quality of life. But if it is really true that I am a sinner saved by sheer grace—at God’s infinite cost—then there’s nothing he cannot ask of me.

Keller comments,

She could see . . . the wonderful-beyond-belief teaching of salvation by sheer grace had two edges to it. On the one hand it cut away slavish fear. God loves us freely, despite our flaws and failures. Yet she also knew that if Jesus really had done this for her—she was not nher own. She was bought with a price.21

As we wait in hope for the ultimate feast and eternal party, may we never get over what it cost to bring us home. In December 1662, a Scottish minister named David Dickson lay dying when a close friend of over fifty years arrived to inquire how he was. The eighty-year-old man replied, “I have taken all my good deeds, and all my bad deeds, and have cast them together in a heap before the Lord, and have fled from both to Jesus Christ, and in him I have sweet peace.”22

That is the message of the gospel, and it is the message Tim Keller loved to communicate. Don’t just flee your bad works. Flee your “good” works, too. Flee them both and collapse into the open arms of Jesus Christ.

Notes:

  1. Timothy Keller, The Prodigal God: Recovering the Heart of the Christian Faith (New York: Penguin, 2008), xvii. Clowney’s sermon, “Sharing the Father’s Welcome,” is available in Edmund P. Clowney, Preaching Christ in All of Scripture (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2003).
  2. Keller, Prodigal God, xvii.
  3. Keller, Prodigal God, xix.
  4. Keller, Prodigal God 12.
  5. Keller, Prodigal God, 13.
  6. Keller, Prodigal God, 9.
  7. Keller, Prodigal God, 34. See also Tim Keller, “The Prodigal Sons,” preached on September 11, 2005, and “The Lord of the Sabbath,” preached on February 19, 2006. He writes, “Each acts as a lens coloring how you see all of life, or as a paradigm shaping your understanding of everything. Each is a way of finding personal significance and worth, of addressing the ills of the world, and of determining right from wrong,” Keller, Prodigal God, 34.
  8. Keller, Prodigal God, 37.
  9. Keller, Prodigal God, 37. As Keller explains in a sermon, “Jesus says, ‘You’re both wrong. You’re both lost. You’re both making the world a terrible place in different ways.’ The elder brothers of the world divide the world in two. They say, ‘The good people are in, and the bad people (you) are out.’ The younger brothers do as well—the self-discovery people also divide the world in two. They say, ‘The open-minded, progressive-minded people are in, and the bigoted and judgmental people (you) are out.’ Jesus says neither. He says, ‘It’s the humble who are in and the proud who are out.’ ” Keller, “The Prodigal Sons.”
  10. Keller, Prodigal God, 40.
  11. Keller, Prodigal God, 48. In a 1992 sermon, Keller remarked, “I’ve seen plenty of people—who have been non-Christians and skeptical and under the influence of the flesh—come on into the Christian faith, and their flesh continues to dominate them, because now they find religious ways of avoiding God, whereas before they were finding irreligious ways.” Tim Keller, “Alive with Christ: Part 2,” preached on November 8, 1992.
  12. Keller, Prodigal God, 44.
  13. Keller, Prodigal God, 45.
  14. Keller, Prodigal God, 51.
  15. Keller, Prodigal God, 53.
  16. Keller, Prodigal God, 54. Keller explains further, “The younger brother knew he was= alienated from the father, but the elder brother did not. That’s why elder-brother lostness is so dangerous. Elder brothers don’t go to God and beg for healing from their condition. They see nothing wrong with their condition, and that can be fatal. If you know you are sick you may go to a doctor; if you don’t know you’re sick you won’t—you’ll just die.” Keller, 75.
  17. Keller, Prodigal God, 43.
  18. See, for example, “Preaching the Gospel,” 2009 Newfrontiers Conference at Westminster Chapel in London, available at https:// vimeo .com /3484464. Elsewhere was a gardener who grew an enormous carrot. He took it to his king and said, ‘My lord, this is the greatest carrot I’ve ever grown or ever will grow; therefore, I want to present it to you as a token of my love and respect for you.’ The king was touched and discerned the man’s heart, so as he turned to go, the king said, ‘Wait! You are clearly a good steward of the earth. I own a plot of land right next to yours. I want to give it to you freely as a gift, so you can garden it all.’ The gardener was amazed and delighted and went home rejoicing. But there was a nobleman at the king’s court who overheard all this, and he said, ‘My! If that is what you get for a carrot, what if you gave the king something better?’ The next day the nobleman came before the king, and he was leading a handsome black stallion. He bowed low and said, ‘My lord, I breed horses, and this is the greatest horse I’ve ever bred or ever will; therefore, I want to present it to you as a token of my love and respect for you.’ But the king discerned his heart and said, ‘Thank you,’ and took the horse and simply dismissed him. The nobleman was perplexed, so the king said, ‘Let me explain. That gardener was giving me the carrot, but you were giving yourself the horse.’ ” Timothy Keller, The Gospel in Life Study Guide: How Grace Changes Everything (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2010), 17. Keller first shared this illustration at Redeemer on May 5, 1996. Though he attributes it to Charles Spurgeon, I cannot find the original source.
  19. Keller states, “It’s off the scales. It’s not halfway in the middle. It’s something else [entirely].” Keller, “The Prodigal Sons.”
  20. Keller, Prodigal God, 94.
  21. Hansen, Timothy Keller, 218 (emphasis original). As a young man, Keller had, in a sense, embodied both younger-brother and elder-brother tendencies: “Tim was the oldest child who always did the right thing, and yet at the same time when he went off to college he really did rebel, and he rebelled in large part against his [overbearing] mother. He was torn between the dynamics of wanting to do the right thing, but also the pressures of falling far short. . . . Once I saw that [he had demonstrated the proclivities of both sons], all of a sudden Tim’s core message of the transforming power of grace—this gift from God that changes everything about our lives—made a lot more sense.” Hansen, “Collin Hansen on The Making of Tim Keller, Overcoming Loneliness, Tim’s Teenage Rebellion, How He Finished Well, and Why He Wanted People to Know About His Weaknesses,” The Carey Nieuwhof Leadership Podcast, July 11, 2023, https:// care ynieuwh of .com/. In his book, Hansen also shares a poignant story about Tim’s literal younger (and only) brother Billy, a gay man who died of complications from AIDS in 1998: “[Over the years] when they visited [Billy and his partner], Tim and Kathy talked to him about the gospel. . . . Tim tried to emphasize the difference between grace and the legalism of their childhood. . . . [Eventually] when Billy entered hospice in December [1997], he said to Tim, ‘My Christian family isn’t going to come with me when I enter eternity, and neither are my gay friends. So I have to figure out what is on the other side of this life.’ . . . [Billy] had thought being a Christian meant cleaning up his life and making himself righteous. But Tim pointed to 2 Corinthians 5:21: ‘For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.’ Finally, Billy felt God’s love. The transformation was immediately evident. He even called his lawyer and told him to give his money [marked for donation to gay causes] to [a local] ministry instead. . . . When all hope seemed lost, God welcomed this prodigal son home.” Hansen, Timothy Keller, 218–20.
  22. Keller, Prodigal God, xx.

This article is adapted from Tim Keller on the Christian Life: The Transforming Power of the Gospel by Matt Smethurst.

Matt Smethurst is lead pastor of River City Baptist Church in Richmond, Virginia. He is the author of several books, including Tim Keller on the Christian Life; Before You Open Your Bible; Before You Share Your Faith; and Deacons. He also cohosts, with Ligon Duncan, The Everyday Pastor podcast from the Gospel Coalition. Matt and his wife, Maghan, have five children.

Related Articles

What Does John 3:16 Mean?

We find John 3:16 on billboards, shoes, hats, bumper stickers, t-shirts, and signs at sporting events. But what does the verse mean?

April 18, 2025 by: Douglas Sean O'Donnell

This article is part of the What Does It Mean? series.

A Conversation About Eternal Life

We find John 3:16 on billboards, shoes, hats, bumper stickers, t-shirts, signs at sporting events, and even the greasy “eye black” that quarterbacks use to reduce glare from the sun and bright stadium lights. But what does the verse mean?

John 3 records an interesting and important discussion between Nicodemus and Jesus. In it our Lord reminds Israel’s learned teacher that no one (not even a great rabbi like Nicodemus!) can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born again of the Holy Spirit (John 3:3, 5, 7).

Jesus then refers to two passages from the Old Testament to explain that he, the “Son of Man,” has come from heaven to bring salvation. He calls himself the “Son of Man,” a reference to a heavenly figure mentioned in Daniel 7, and compares himself to the bronze serpent that Moses lifted up in the wilderness (see Num. 21:4–9), saying that he, too, must be “lifted up” on the cross so that those who believe in him will have eternal life (John 3:13–15).

Then comes one of the most well-known verses in the Bible:

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

Our Problem

Now, to understand what this verse means, we first need to read what Jesus1 says next: “For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil” (John 3:17–19).

Notice that there is a worldwide problem. The world is already under judgment (“condemned already,” John 3:18), and people are heading toward destruction because they love to live in the shadows of sin (“people loved the darkness . . . because their works were evil,” John 3:19). So we have a big problem! Thankfully, though, we have a great God, who has made a way for us to be saved.

God’s Solution

God’s solution starts with his love. Jesus often showed compassion during his time on earth2, and the Father, who is also full of love (“God is love,” 1 John 4:8), has acted out of that same compassion. His love is a verb—actually, three key verbs: he “loves” the world by sending (“send,” John 3:17), giving (“gave,” John 3:16), and therefore saving (“saved,” John 3:17).3 Here is a summary of what God has done:

  • The Father sent his Son to rescue us (John 3:17).4
  • The Father gave his Son as a sacrifice for us (John 3:16).5

Of course, our God is a Trinity, so the Father’s sending and giving correspond to the Son’s being sent6 and the Spirit’s work of new life.7

  • The Son willingly came (“he . . . descended from heaven,” John 3:13) to save sinners who are condemned to eternal punishment by dying on the cross (“the Son of Man” was “lifted up,” John 3:14).
  • The Holy Spirit gives us new life (birth from above!) by helping us understand and accept the gospel (John 3:5–8).8

We have a big problem! Thankfully, though, we have a great God, who has made a way for us to be saved.

An Open Invitation

Through this loving work, God—Father, Son, and Spirit—generously offers to all people everywhere at all times salvation from death and damnation (it is an open invitation to “whoever” in “the world,” John 3:16, Jews and Gentiles; see Rom. 1:16).

The invitation is open to all, and it is received by faith. We do not receive the saving love of God through our good works or by having a consistent church attendance record or a baptism certificate. Instead, in utter dependence, we come out of our darkness “to the light” (John 3:21)—Jesus! The word John uses for this is “faith,” in its various forms (belief, believe, believes),9 synonyms (receive, come to), and metaphors (eat, drink, etc.)—all abounding throughout John and especially in John 3:15–18 (5x!). For example, John 3:18 states, “Whoever believes in him is not condemned,” and John 3:16 says that “whoever believes in him should not perish but receive eternal life.” As Frederick Dale Brunner nicely summarizes, “One simply trusts this Giver, this Gift, and this Giving,”10 and continues to trust.11 Of course, as said earlier, we come to believe in and continue to believe in the God-sent Son only because the Spirit opens our eyes to see Jesus as the “light of the world” (John 8:12; John 12:35–36), the Spirit gives us a “new heart” (Ezek. 36:26), and the Spirit breathes life into our dead and dry bones (Ezek. 37:9, 10).12 As John states in his prologue, “All who did receive him, who believed in his name . . . were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God” (John 1:12–13).

Embrace God’s Love!

John 3:16 is not just a famous verse about what God has done for us—it’s a call to action! What we do with Jesus determines our future:

  • If we believe in him, we receive eternal life.
  • If we reject him, we remain in our sins—dead (without “eternal life,” John 3:16) and damned (“already condemned,” John 3:18).

What we make of Jesus is a matter of life and death! “Oh world, embrace the love of God!”13

Notes:

  1. For a short summary of the view that the narrator/evangelist (John) in John 3:16–21 is offering his “own commentary, which provides a theological summary of the implications of the first three chapters” (Grant R. Osborne, “The Gospel of John,” Cornerstone Biblical Commentary [Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale, 2007], 57) and “a necessary interpretation of the dialogue that has just taken place,” see Edward W. Klink III, John, ZECNT (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2016), 204–205. However, I find Hamilton’s rationale for arguing that Jesus is speaking in John 3:16 more convincing: “Jesus then offers further explanation to Nicodemus in verses 16–21. Because a clear break comes in verse 22, it seems that Jesus continues to speak through verse 21, and thus verses 16–21 are a clarification and elaboration from Jesus for Nicodemus.” James M. Hamilton Jr., “John,” ESV Expository Commentary (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2019), 75.
  2. E.g., Matthew 9:36, 14:14; 15:32; 20:34; Mark 6:34; 8:2; 9:22; Luke 7:13.
  3. “For this is how God loved the world” (ESV marginal reading). “‘Love’ is a major theme in John, with three related terms occurring 116 times in his writings (56 in the Gospel).” Osborne, John, 57.
  4. God’s sending the Son is a prevalent theme in John, with the word “sent” used for this purpose over forty times and the clause “The one who sent me” nearly thirty times! The concept (notably connected to the language of “love,” “world,” “only Son,” and life [“live”]!) is found also in 1 John 4:9: “In this the love of the God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him.”
  5. “God loved the world by giving Jesus to die in its place. There was nothing the world needed more than for God’s wrath to be assuaged, nothing more valuable to the Father than Jesus. There was no greater length to which anyone could go to show love, no way for greater love to be more convincingly demonstrated, than for ultimate value to be sacrificed for ultimate need to accomplish ultimate salvation.” Hamilton, “John,” 76.
  6. Jesus is the “only son of God,” v. 18; cf. “God the only Son,” 1:18.
  7. “The measure of the love of God is the gift of his only Son to be made man, and to die for our sins, and so to become the one mediator who can bring us to God.” J. I. Packer, Knowing God (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1973), 114.
  8. “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again [that is, “born of water and the Spirit,” v. 5] he cannot see [and “enter,” v. 5] the kingdom of God” (v. 3; “You [plural] must be born again,” v. 7).
  9. “The verb [believing] occurs ninety-eight times in John’s gospel and is found, strategically, at the pivot of the introduction (John 1:12–13) and in the purpose statement (20:30–31).” Andreas J. Köstenberger, A Theology of John’s Gospel and Letters, Biblical Theology of the New Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan 2009), 292.
  10. Bruner, John, 203.
  11. “The word ‘entrusting’ is a wonderful present-tense participle [an -ing ending word] which means that it is an ongoing trust, like breathing, continually resting in the divine Love.” Bruner, John, 202–203.
  12. “Jesus explains the new birth to Nicodemus in terms of the cleansing and renewing work of the Holy Spirit described in Ezekiel 36:24–27 (John 3:5) and the resurrection of the dry bones by the blowing of the Holy Spirit wind in Ezekiel 37 (John 3:8).” Hamilton, “John,” 74.
  13. Klink, John, 209.

Douglas Sean O’Donnell is the author of Daily Liturgy Devotional: 40 Days of Worship and Prayer.

Douglas Sean O’Donnell (PhD, University of Aberdeen) is the senior vice president of Bible editorial at Crossway. Over the past twenty-five years he has helped train people around the world to read and teach the Bible clearly. He has pastored several churches, served as a professor, and authored or edited over twenty books, including commentaries, Bible studies, children’s books, and a children’s curriculum. He also wrote The Pastor’s Book with R. Kent Hughes and The Beauty and Power of Biblical Exposition with Leland Ryken.

Popular Articles in This Series

View All

Podcast: What If Death Taught Us How to Live? (David Gibson)

David Gibson discusses the intent, message, and way of life that Ecclesiastes has to teach us.

April 14, 2025 by: Crossway

This article is part of the The Crossway Podcast series.

You Can’t Have a Grandmaster Plan for Life (Or Even Tomorrow)

In this episode, David Gibson discusses the intent, message, and way of life that Ecclesiastes has to teach us. He addresses the negative connotations associated with this book and how Ecclesiastes teaches us how we can know God, love him, and accept the gifts we receive from him.

Subscribe: Apple Podcasts | Spotify | YouTube | RSS

Topics Addressed in This Interview:

00:30 - Do Proverbs and Ecclesiastes Have Contradictory Messages?

Matt Tully
David Gibson serves as minister of Trinity Church in Aberdeen, Scotland and is the author of several books, including Living Life Backward: How Ecclesiastes Teaches Us to Live in Light of the End from Crossway. David, thanks so much for joining me today on The Crossway Podcast.

David Gibson
Such a pleasure, Matt. It’s lovely to get to chat with you again.

Matt Tully
Today we’re going to talk about the book of Ecclesiastes, this really incredible yet somewhat perplexing book in the Bible. And one of the big themes in Ecclesiastes that I want to focus on today is just the uncertainty of life that we all experience. Life doesn’t always go the way that we expect it to go. I think that’s something that we’ve all experienced in our own lives in different ways. Sometimes in really distressing ways, perhaps. So I wonder if we can just start with the big picture. As someone who spent a lot of time in the book of Ecclesiastes, how has it shaped your perspective on those moments in our lives when life does feel random or even out of control?

David Gibson
Yeah, thanks. I think you touch straight away there on probably one of the biggest takeaways from the book, that I think it’s there to help us make sense of those moments. I think it’s part of the wisdom literature that is given to us to help us get our heads around the order that God has put into the world that you see really clearly in the book of Proverbs. Ecclesiastes comes at that order from a different angle and says, yes, the order is there, but what happens when it doesn’t look like it’s there and nothing seems to make sense? I think a lot of where people connect with the book Ecclesiastes is necessarily bound up with our own individual life story. So I’m the eldest child. I'm a typical eldest child. You see these Instagram accounts about this. I follow these guys on Instagram that always do these reels about the different type of kids: the eldest, the middle, and the littlest. And I’m one of three boys, so I see that in my two brothers. Eldest children love order, neatness, tidiness in everything. We work by a schedule. We’re where we’re meant to be. Randomness and things out of control are very infuriating in a way that they’re not for my two other brothers. They’re like, "You’re there to take care of all that stuff. What’s the problem?" So depending on your type of personality and where you are in the world, the book will resonate in different ways. For me, as someone who loves order and tidiness and control, I think I’ve learned, through the book of Ecclesiastes, that God is teaching me that I make an idol out of those things. It’s not just my personality (although it is that); it’s that when my desk is tidy, and my calendar is tidy, and my relationships are neat, and the kids are where I want them to be, and the dog is well behaved, and church is looking good, it’s very possible that I have risen up above my creaturely station and tried to take control of the universe and say that because everything is where I want it to be, God is good. And actually, I’m not really saying that God is good; I’m saying that I am good, and my world is good, and therefore God is good. And the book of Ecclesiastes is there to ask is it possible that love of control is an idol that God is smashing very gently—well, it doesn’t feel gentle—very lovingly, by showing you that you cannot control everything in life? And whether you’re an eldest child or a youngest child, it’s still the same message, that we are creatures who do not run the universe. And the randomness of life, and the things that you can’t control, and your best laid plans that all unravel unexpectedly, and the medical diagnosis you didn’t see coming—all of these things are tools in God’s hand to wake us up to the fact that he is the one running the world, not us. So that’s a long answer to your question, that Ecclesiastes has helped me see more and more that I am a creature. God is the creator, not me.

Matt Tully
You mentioned the book of Proverbs a minute ago, and I think that is one thing that I’ve wrestled with at times is that portions of the book of Proverbs seem to portray a world that is very you do this, and then this will happen. It’s very straightforward math almost. So you kind of know if I give this input, if I act in this way, if I live a wise life or a godly life in this way, then this thing should happen every time. And that feels very much at odds with the message of the book of Ecclesiastes, which seems to say I can live life as wisely as I possibly could, and yet sometimes things will still not turn out for me. So how do you reconcile those two? I think to some it could feel like those are contradictory messages.

David Gibson
Well, you need them both. The second one only feels contradictory because you have the first proverb says, "Do this, and you will live. Do this, and things go better than if you do the opposite." And that’s all completely true. But along comes Ecclesiastes to say—and Proverbs says this, too, but Ecclesiastes says it in a little bit more of a stark form—that yes, you’ve got all those given things about what makes life work well, but don’t forget two things. Don’t forget that you’re doing them in a broken world. Sin has fractured everything. And don’t forget that you’re doing it in a world where you will soon be dead. You are dying, and your lifespan is not very long. You are only here for a short time. Those are the two main angles, I think, and particularly that first one that God has made the world. A friend of mine who did a PhD here at Aberdeen partly on Proverbs said that God has made the world hospitable to wisdom. The world works best the wiser you are. The more of God you have in your life, the more you’ve imbibed the law and the gospel, the wiser you will live and, therefore, the better life will go. And at the same time, Ecclesiastes says, yes, but disaster can overtake you in a moment, because this is a broken and fallen world. So it’s a case of holding both together, Matt, that yes, this will be better if I live this way, and I might be dead tomorrow, because this world is broken and I don’t have any guarantee for the future.

Matt Tully
As you describe it like that, it makes me think of how the book of Ecclesiastes is almost like the asterisk on the book of Proverbs. This is true, generally speaking, but just don’t miss that asterisk. Don’t forget that there are these other two factors, these X factors: we live in a broken world, and we ourselves are going to die. Those impact our experience of our lives.

David Gibson
There’s an Australian Anglican theologian called Graham Goldsworthy, who many of your listeners may know. He has a wonderful book called Gospel and Wisdom, where he talks about how you find and read and know the gospel through the Bible’s wisdom literature. And he breaks the books, and he says Proverbs is about the perception of order, Ecclesiastes is about the confusion of order, and the book of Job is about the hiddenness of order. In some of my teaching I’ve done recently in the wisdom literature, I’ve added in Song of Songs into that and say that Song of Songs is about the ecstasy of order. The really interesting thing in all of that is the word order. Order recurs in all of Goldsworthy’s headings—perception of order, confusion of order, hiddenness of order. And the order comes from the doctrine of creation. To anybody listening, the key to understanding the Bible’s wisdom literature is the doctrine of creation. You cannot get Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Job, Song of Songs right unless you believe God has made the world in a certain way. And it’s because there is a Creator that there is order in the world. It’s because sin has ruined creation that there is confusion of the order. I’ve always just found that a really helpful thing, that the doctrine of creation is the unspoken screen saver. It’s the backdrop to the whole of the wisdom literature.

Matt Tully
You write in this book, "The message of the book of Ecclesiastes is mirrored in the effect of the book." I just found that a very fascinating statement. I wonder if you could unpack a little bit more what you mean by that.

David Gibson
I think the best storytellers—I was trying to think of an example of this, and I couldn’t think of one. It’ll come to me as soon as we click end recording. The best storytellers and the best filmmakers make you feel what they’re trying to tell you on the screen. So Harry Potter, when it’s Voldemort in the woods or whatever, it’s not light and bright and happy music on the screen. It’s dark, it’s foreboding, and it’s matching. The effect is mirroring the message at that particular point. So I think the message of the book of Ecclesiastes is life is really bewildering and perplexing and will leave you scratching your head and you don’t know where you are. You don’t know which way is up. So if that’s the message of the book, what an incredibly skillful teacher the teacher of the book is to write a book that leaves you scratching your head. How many people have you spoken to who say, "I steer clear of Ecclesiastes. I don’t know how to make sense of Ecclesiastes." What an amazing effect, if the point of the book is that we don't easily know how to make sense of life. So I think that that’s what I’m getting at in that sentence. It’s a very skillful thing to write a book that leaves you scratching your head to teach you that life leaves you scratching your head.

Matt Tully
That’s such a helpful encouragement to us as we approach a book that, yeah, does sometimes feel hard to understand. It feels a little bit inscrutable in certain points. And I hear you saying that that is part of the point, that the book was actually intentionally designed to be a little bit difficult to penetrate, because that reflects the way that life often is difficult for us to penetrate.

David Gibson
Yeah, exactly. And this is controversial, but I think that’s reflected in a lot of the scholarship of Ecclesiastes, that a lot of Christian scholars feel they have to compensate for the perplexity. And there are all sorts of different theories, most of them that I disagree with, about bits of the book that are unorthodox—"no believer would say this." And I don’t think that’s right, and I think that’s the shock of the book. It’s meant to make you stop in your tracks and say, "Hang on. I thought this was the Bible I’m reading." Anthony Thistelton, who was a New Testament scholar, he says that wisdom literature, and I think this is particularly Ecclesiastes, wisdom literature wounds from behind. It’s the sucker punch, the punch in the back that you didn’t see coming that leaves you blinking in the sunlight, thinking hHang on, what is this? That’s part of the unique contribution that Ecclesiastes makes in the canon.

11:21 - How Is It a Comfort That We Are Not in Control of Our Lives?

Matt Tully
There are many different ways that we experience this uncertainty of life, these unexpected turns in our lives that leave us feeling sucker punched. There are a lot of different angles on that that we could explore, but I wanted to pick maybe three broad categories of these and see if you can help us understand what this book can help us learn about these ways that we experience life’s uncertainty. The first one is just that understanding that we don’t have control over the things that happen to us. This is going to come in all different ways. I know for me, I can look back on my life and I can just see so many small moments that happen, things that I either had very little control over or maybe had literally no control over, that then had really big repercussions for me that maybe made a huge impact on my life. And there’s obviously lots of good examples of that in our lives, lots of wonderful happen-stances, so to speak, that then led to good things. But I think we can all probably think of small moments that led to really difficult, hard things in our lives. As you think about your own life, can you think of examples of that—these small moments that you had no control over that then ended up having a big impact on the rest of your life?

David Gibson
One hundred percent. I can think of loads and loads of different things. I’m married to the most amazing woman in the world, who I messed around at university, who I treated badly. And we met on a summer evening in our college days. She was cycling home, and I happened to be walking back a particular way that evening that led to a conversation that began my humble pie journey of saying to her, "Have I missed the boat?" And we didn’t plan to be there. Then all of a sudden, our whole lives are now meshed together, and we have four kids and a church, and we’re living in this part of the world and not another part. I think Ecclesiastes is just all about that. But here’s how it does it. Ecclesiastes has a beautiful doctrine of God. We can talk about that. It’s actually very rich in the way that it describes God. But it helps you see who God is mostly, I think, by showing us who we are. We are creatures, not the Creator. That, I think, is the main message of Ecclesiastes. It has one of the richest anthropologies in the Bible. It’s got a doctrine of man that sheds light on who God is. Because the fundamental human condition ever since the garden is that we think we are God. That’s what the serpent offered our first parents, wasn’t it? That if you do this, you will be like God. I say this in my book, that my wife will tell you I’m pretty keen on that idea of being God. It surfaces in all sorts of ways, and Ecclesiastes is there to say just take a minute to look at your life—those happen-stances and everything that you mentioned. If you stop and unpack your life, most of the really, really significant decisions and things about you, you didn’t decide and you had no control over. Or even if you did decide, you didn’t realize what you were contributing to. It led to this that you didn’t see coming and all the unintended consequences. Stop thinking that you’re like Garry Kasparov, or whoever those Chess players are, that you’re sitting there with a grand map of your life and the universe and everything. We’re not. We’re small bit-part players who barely know what we’re doing tomorrow, nevermind how we’re going to shape the universe in the future. And Ecclesiastes is just a beautifully humbling book to say, What do most of us think we’re like? We think we’re like castles. We think we’re like granite. We think we’re skyscrapers. We think we are individual Babel towers, going to reach up to the heavens, change the world, and live forever. And Ecclesiastes says, no, I’ve seen people like you before. You’re like the mist that was there on my grass in the morning. And it’s now two o’clock in the day, and you’re like the dew, and it’s gone. It’s just evaporated. That’s what you’re like. You’ll be here for seventy years. Tomorrow no one will remember you were there. That’s what I mean by it being a book about God by teaching us who we are. It puts us in our proper place.

Matt Tully
I love how at the beginning of each chapter of the book you often include little quotes from different figures. And one of the quotes that stood out to me that just is so at odds with, obviously, broader secular culture, perhaps, but even some Christian culture. It’s a Nicholas von Zinzendorf quote: "Preach the gospel, die, and be forgotten." That is the true trajectory for most of us. And yet even just the starkness of that, especially the idea of being forgotten, can really cut against the sense of purpose or significance that we all want to feel.

David Gibson
I think it’s when the wisdom literature has wounded you from behind and you catch your breath and you think, What the heck just happened there?—it’s realizing that what the punch in the back has done is put a whole different way of looking at life into your system. So the idea that in 100 years probably no one will know I existed, if you don’t know why that’s a beautiful, beautiful, liberating thing for you, you’re going to struggle with the book of Ecclesiastes, or at least it’s written to teach you why that’s a beautiful thing. Because if you imagine really taking that on board, that in 100, 200, or 300 years no one will know I was even here, well, think about the difference that makes to what I’m trying to achieve today. What am I trying to do? Am I trying to build a legacy today that will last forever? There are occasional people like that. There’s Winston Churchill. There’s US presidents. There are people that God puts in the world who leave an indelible trace. What are they? Maybe five, ten, fifteen, twenty people out of billions. If you’re striving to be one of those people, you’re probably not going to be. And that’s God’s way of saying stop overreaching. Stop trying to do more with your life than you were ever meant to do. And if no one’s going to remember you in 100 years, the fact that I have made you, God is saying, that I’ve made you, you’re still worth something. You’re worth an awful lot. But you don’t need to be remembered for your life to have value and meaning. So maybe the value and meaning is not where we think it is.

Matt Tully
Going back to the broad struggle that we have with feeling so powerless to control our lives, to control the future of our lives and just the experience of all the unpredictability that can come our way, you’re talking about it as being almost a comforting thing, as we realize what that tells us about God in contrast to ourselves. But I think the reality is that for many of us, that can feel very unsettling. As we think about that, we think about just my lack of control over what might be coming tomorrow, much less five years from now, it can just feel really scary to think that there’s nothing I really can do, ultimately, to control that. So how would you counsel or encourage or help someone who is saying, "Honestly, that makes me feel very scared"?

David Gibson
It’s a really good question. I think I would say all of life—and I think this as a pastor increasingly—that all of life is the doctrine of God. My fears, my anxieties, my sins, my hopes, my dreams, my struggles—all of them locate me somewhere in relation to who God is and to my understanding of who God is. So I would say that the adult—and I’m fifty this year in December—the adult (that’s someone in my position)—I remember reading John Piper saying that when you’re in your mid forties or fifties, you’ve got the most responsibilities on your shoulders that you’ll ever have. You’re probably a sandwich carer—you’ve got dependents beneath you and you’re starting to get dependents above you. You’re at a point in your career, probably, in work where pressures are increasing. You’ve got increasing responsibilities. And I feel that exactly right, all those things for me personally at the minute. if you’re that kind of person and you don’t locate yourself in relation to God properly, you begin to think, I really am carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I’ve got to make all these decisions. I’ve got a plan the future and all the rest of it. And what that person forgets—what I forget—is, well, imagine looking at your dog. I’ll give you two examples. Look at your dog, and if your dog said back to you, "Do you know what I’ve got to do today? Have you any idea how busy I am? Have you any idea what responsibilities I’ve got? Where’s my next walk coming from? Where’s my next meal coming from?" If your dog could speak, you’d look at it and say, "You have no idea how good you’ve got it." What you say is, "I’m in charge of that. I take care of all that, not you. You’ve forgotten who you are, dog. You’re getting above your station." That’s not a totally weird example. I think large parts of Job, using the animal kingdom, are to teach Job that if God were to tell him why he does what he does, Job wouldn’t understand. There are categories that God works in that human beings are just not built to understand. My knowledge of God is the same as my dog’s knowledge of me. We think God is just a bigger version of me when, actually, God is a different being altogether than me. So I’m taking a long time to give you hopefully a helpful, simple answer, which is when I feel anxious about tomorrow and anxious about what’s coming and anxious about the future, it’s like a dog saying to a human being, "You don’t know what you’re doing. Have I really got to run the world, dog walker? Have I got to sort it out?" We really don’t. We’re forgetting, in all the stress and worry and anxiety about tomorrow and about what’s coming, we’re forgetting that we are creatures who God has placed in this world for a short time to simply know him, love him, obey him, trust him, to accept—and this is another beautiful part of Ecclesiastes—to accept the good things in the world that he’s given us as gifts—food, drink, relationships, work—to enjoy them for what they are. The dog that buries a bone thinking, The entire future of the universe depends on me burying this bone, it is as silly as the president thinking the entire future of the universe depends on which button I press here. Of course it’s monumental. But it’s nothing like the grandness of what God is orchestrating and God is controlling. And the other image I’d use, not just dog and human, but parent and child. That’s the main thing, pastorally, I want to say to people who are really anxious about the future and anxious about control over their life. Your four-year-old child who says to you, "I’m really anxious about school tomorrow, mom, and what my friend is doing." That’s how life works, isn’t it? The parent looks at the child’s fears and knows how small they are compared to the parent’s fears. The parent can navigate the world in a way that the child can’t. And the parent says, "Look, don’t worry. I’m here, I’ve got this, put your hand in mine. I’ll walk with you through that." We’re so quick to forget that, aren’t we? I don’t know what you’re like, Matt. Me, myself as a pastor, my wife, my kids, our church family, if only I could get the doctrine of God deeper into my bones and into my heart, that a) he’s a different being from me, and secondly, he’s a father, not just a chess player. He’s not an orchestrator of events. He’s a loving father who loves me the same way that I love my kids and say to them at nighttime, "Let’s pray. God’s got this. I’ve got this." Does that make sense? That’s a very long-winded answer. You’ve probably even forgotten what the question was.

Matt Tully
No, absolutely. It makes me think of a subset of the broad category in just the uncertainty of life. We can look at our lives and see things happen to us that are out of our control, but one subset that is also maybe a focal point of our anxiety at times is decision making that we have to do. So every day we don’t have the option to not make decisions. It’s not as if this doctrine of God and the doctrine of humanity means that we just sit passively and let things happen. And sometimes it can just feel hard to know what decision to make. And I think especially of the situations where we are trying to make good, wise decisions, and yet things still don’t go as planned. We do what we’re called to do, we feel like faithfully, and yet the results just still go wrong. So how do you think about that? How should we as Christians understand our responsibility to make good decisions, to think carefully about the future, with our tendency to want to have control over the future?

David Gibson
I think what Ecclesiastes does is it injects into our decision making the unexpected decision-making help of death. The message of Ecclesiastes is life is a breath. The recurring phrase, "Vanity, vanity, all is vanity. Vanity of vanities." In the English Standard Version or the NIV, "Meaningless, meaningless. Everything is meaningless." The way to understand that, I think, the Hebrew word hevel is breath, mist, vapor, breath, breath, vapor, vapor. Everything is a vapor. Everything is misty. Everything is momentary. Everything is passing. Everything is fleeting. And Ecclesiastes says, if I could put it this way, Ecclesiastes says stick that in your decision making pipe and smoke it. Here I sit wrestling over this decision, and Ecclesiastes stands over my shoulder and says, "Come on, make up your mind. You don’t have long." And by that it means you’ve only got seventy years or eighty years. If you really know you’re here for a short time and you’re going to die, does that make any difference to the decision making? We never really think that, but you get the unexpected diagnosis that gives you six months to live. Very few people are cloudy in their decision making then. Things become incredibly clear very quickly about what matters most, about who you want to speak to, about what you want to put right, about where you want to go, what you’re going to do with your money. In Ecclesiastes, the whole point of the book is to say you don’t need that six-months-left diagnosis. I’m giving it to you now. You’ve got seventy years max, and look how quickly it’s going. I’m fifty, Matt, and yet in my head I’m twenty. It’s just passing like a Formula One race car. Life is flying by. So the whole point of the book, I think, is to say can you just stop and think about the fact that your grandparents are gone, and they were like you? And you don’t even know then names of your great-great grandparents. They’re here and they’re gone. So take it down deep, really deep, into your bones that when you go to that funeral and you look at the coffin, one day that will be you. And when someone stands to give the eulogy, what are they going to say about you? Today is your chance to change that. That’s one main thing, I think. Inject the reality of your death into your decision making. And then if I could just say one other thing, which is I think the book of Ecclesiastes says once you do that, once you pump your death into your veins and into your bloodstream and your mindset and everything, the very last thing it does is make you morbid. Death has that effect, doesn’t it? When people lose someone tragically, often what does the family do? They start running marathons, they climb mountains. The loss accelerates life, in some ways, and adds more life. If you can do that yourself for your own death in advance of your death, instead of becoming morbid, people like this become the most alive people that you can meet. They become incredibly generous with their money, with their time. That’s the second main thing I would say, that once you inject death into your mindset to help you make decisions, it won’t automatically tell you which fork in the road to go down, but it might help you think, Is one of these forks in the road more generous than the other? Is one going to serve others more than it serves me? It’s that kind of thing. That’s the difference that I think Ecclesiastes makes on our decision making.

27:43 - What Comfort Can We Find in the Uncertainty of Suffering?

Matt Tully
Another area of uncertainty that we face, another subcategory, is uncertainty in the midst of suffering. And Ecclesiastes does address this. It presents what I would say is a pretty brutally honest picture of suffering in a broken world that is oftentimes unavoidable for us. We live in the modern world where we have technology now that helps us to push some of this away. But ultimately, suffering, which culminates in death, is unavoidable for us. And sometimes it barges into our lives in very intense ways. So what comfort does this book offer to somebody who is experiencing deep suffering?

David Gibson
I think it operates on a few different levels. On the one hand, some people I know just simply find the sheer presence of Ecclesiastes comforting. Psalm 23 is, "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me." Ecclesiastes just takes time to describe that valley of the shadow of death. It’s quite comforting to read the Bible and to realize that the Bible is not fairytale land. It’s not make believe. It really knows the world that we live in. That in itself is comforting.

Matt Tully
We should take a moment, David, here just to briefly mention your book. You said Psalm 23, and you have another book that you’ve written with Crossway called The Lord of Psalm 23, where you walk through that incredible Psalm in a way that I’ve never heard anyone else do. And you really helped to explain both what that valley is but also the Lord who meets us there. Can you just share very briefly what you see in that psalm and even how it connects to Ecclesiastes?

David Gibson
I think the psalm, again, some people say that the comfort—Charles Spurgeon said this really famously—that the comfort of the psalm is realizing that in the valley of the shadow of death, the reason it’s only a shadow is because there must be light somewhere. So the Lord is there as light, and so the shadows aren’t really dangerous. And I don’t think that’s right. I think the point of the psalm, and David who wrote it, his own life experience is that valleys can be very, very dangerous, dark, bleak, crushing places. The psalm doesn’t try and deny that or pretend that that’s not like that. And, in fact, that’s what makes the psalm so beautiful, that the Lord is with us. Not to then, because he’s with us, that the valley of the shadow of death disappears. No, he’s with us in that valley, right there in the midst of it and in the thickest darkness. And I think Ecclesiastes is just like that. It doesn’t sugarcoat life. It doesn’t pretend and say, "Come to Jesus, and everything will be okay." That there are many people in many parts of the world that their life was fine until they came to Jesus, until they came to Christ, and then the suffering began, then the persecution began. So that’s that’s one level of comfort, to go back to your original question. Ecclesiastes is real, and there’s comfort in it being real. I think a second thing is that Ecclesiastes says that suffering comes to us in seasons. There are just times when these things roll into our lives that are unexpected. But because there is a time for these things, Ecclesiastes is very good at saying they’re not forever, they’re not always. Just like the four seasons of the year roll around, just like days and weeks and months roll around, so times of suffering that we think are going to go on forever, in God’s hands probably are simply a season that we’re going through, a rhythm that we’re in at the minute. The most important thing, though, where I get that from in chapter 3, the most important help that I have about suffering from Ecclesiastes is that even in that time of suffering, God is going to use it in some way to tell a bigger story than I can see in this particular time. So in Ecclesiastes chapter 3, we have "a time to be born, a time to die, a time to mourn, a time to dance." There is a season of suffering, in other words, that comes into all our lives. But then chapter 3, verse 11, "He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man’s heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end." That, I think, is the most incredible verse in the whole book. Everybody thinks of "meaningless, meaningless, vanity, vanities," but that verse is the most incredible verse, to think that God has made everything beautiful in its time. And I shudder at that. How can some things—Gaza, 9/11, Northern Ireland (where I grew up)—take your pick at what’s unfolding in the world. How on earth can it be beautiful? And the answer is, of course, it’s not beautiful to us, but it’s not beautiful to us because we don’t see it in its time. God is the one controlling all the times of the universe. My suffering, your suffering at this particular moment is no more meaningful or beautiful than opening Lord of the Rings halfway through and reading one particular sentence and saying, "This doesn’t make sense." It doesn’t make sense on its own there in that moment, but the whole story put together is beautiful. And I think that’s probably, ultimately, the most ultimate help in suffering, that my suffering is one moment in this unfolding story that has God taking care of sin, dealing with it once and for all in the death and resurrection of Christ his Son, the promise of a new world to come. Then we will see everything beautiful in its time.

33:30 - Living Life Backward

Matt Tully
You titled this book Walking Through the Book of Ecclesiastes: Living Life Backward. I wonder if you could just, as a final question, help us understand what you’re getting at with that title.

David Gibson
I need to say what Crossway is getting out of that title. The funny thing with that title, Matt, is that I didn’t like it. I didn’t want it. The book was called, in the United Kingdom, Destiny: Learning to Live by Preparing to Die. And you guys, folks at Crossway, are brilliant at titling books, and that title came back to me and I fought it and said no. And Crossway said, "No, trust us. It really is the right one." And I now agree completely. It’s an excellent distillation of the message of Ecclesiastes. And so the reason for it, I think, is this: we live life forwards, don’t we? That’s the normal thing. I sat on my calendar, and this morning my wife said, "What’s happening this week? What are we doing this evening?" The kids say what they’re doing. We’re plotting our life forward all the time. And if you just carry on like that, you just plot your life forward all the time and then bang, you’re dead. In some way, death comes. Ecclesiastes says how about we switch that around? Start with death, the fact that one day you’re going to die. That’s definitely coming. It really, really will happen. If you believe it and start to take that on board now, live backwards from that point. It’s the thing I mentioned earlier. Imagine the terminal diagnosis. You’ve got six months left to live. You’re going to live backwards from that. That cold, hard reality is going to shape everything you do in the next six months. And so Ecclesiastes says, "Well, I don’t know whether it’s six months or six years or sixteen years, but it’s coming. So take that point and work backwards into your life, and you’ll find that you live completely differently."

35:15 - The Meaning of Mirth

Matt Tully
And to be fair to you, even if we insisted on that title, we got that from your introduction where you talk about our tendency to live life forward, to want to live life forward, and yet the need to actually think backwards. Maybe actually as a final question, one other quick quote from the book. You say this perspective, starting with death and the end, "can teach us the meaning of mirth." I wonder if you could just close us with explaining what you mean by that.

David Gibson
Don’t you think that some of the most interesting people you’ve ever met, or some of the most delightful people to be around, are the people who don’t take themselves so seriously? In my work, I’ve had the privilege of meeting some really powerful people. I’ve met some incredibly powerful people—powerful in the world’s terms, in terms of politics, money, influence, capability. The world-at-their-feet kind of people. And there are some of those people that you just—I anyway—just didn’t really want to be around too long. These are big hitters, and, boy, do they know they’re big hitters in the world. But you see when you meet a person with immense power and immense reach and they just are so self-deprecating and they don’t take themselves seriously. They put you at ease. It is tremendous fun to be around people like that. So people who don’t take themselves seriously know how to laugh at themselves. When you realize you are a mist and that you’re only here for a short time and that the future of the world does not depend on the David Gibson project and my legacy. I’m a pastor, and I could go under a bus tomorrow and Trinity Church in Aberdeen will carry on just fine, because it’s God’s church not mine. You become someone who just relaxes and lets go of needing to be in charge of everything, needing to be in control of everything. And that’s the message of Ecclesiastes. Chapter 9: go enjoy your life with your wife, whom you love. Open a bottle of wine. Look after your body. Dress well. Eat well. Enjoy your work. That comes from death. It’s knowing that you’re going to die that teaches you how to laugh at yourself, how to not take yourself too seriously, how to enjoy the good things in life. That’s where I think the mirth comes from. I think that’s what it means.

Matt Tully
David, thank you so much for helping us take a book that I think can sometimes fill us with a little bit of anxiety, can feel unsettling to us and confusing, and hopefully helping each of us to understand a little bit better the freedom, the relief even, that comes from understanding not just who we are but ultimately who God is. We appreciate it.

David Gibson
You’re very welcome. It’s been a real pleasure. Lovely. Thank you.

Popular Articles in This Series

View All

Podcast: Help! I Hate My Job (Jim Hamilton)

January 06, 2020

Jim Hamilton discusses what to do when you hate your job, offering encouragement for those frustrated in their work and explaining the difference between a job and a vocation.

What Is the Significance of Joseph’s Bones Being Carried Out of Egypt?

The land of Israel promised to Abraham and subsequently occupied by Joshua and Israel throughout their history is a typological re-manifestation of the Garden of Eden.

April 08, 2025 by: Nicholas G. Piotrowski

Return to Eden

When thinking of exile and return in the Bible, it’s critical to understand that the land of Israel promised to Abraham and subsequently occupied by Joshua and Israel throughout their history is a typological re-manifestation of the Garden of Eden. It is described in similar ways, as is the Garden of Eden.

This is especially true in Exodus, Numbers, and Joshua, but you can also see it in the book of Genesis. The land is not just a generic, geographically marked off space but serves this theological purpose of remembering Eden and hoping that someday the whole earth will return to that edenic state after a resurrection.

And that’s where Joseph’s story comes in. He knows he’s about to die, but he also has hope for a resurrection. And so he asks the children of Israel to remember to carry him up into the land—that new typological Garden of Eden—when they go.

And this does two things. Not only does it express hope for resurrection—why else would someone care so much about their bones?—but specifically where that resurrection will happen. He could be raised just as well in Egypt or anywhere else, but he wants to be raised in that space that represents the Garden of Eden, because someday the whole earth will revert back to those edenic conditions.

To put it in another way, Joseph believes that when he is raised to life, he will be raised in the Garden of Eden, in the very presence of God. This is significant for us because what it teaches us is the Christian hope of resurrection is not just, Oh, I get to live forever, but specifically, I will live forever in the presence of God, where there is true fullness of joy and pleasures forevermore.

Nicholas G. Piotrowski is the author of Return from Exile and the Renewal of God’s People.

Nicholas G. Piotrowski (PhD, Wheaton College) is the president of Indianapolis Theological Seminary where he also teaches hermeneutics and New Testament courses. His other books include In All the Scriptures and Matthew’s New David at the End of Exile.

Related Articles

6 Lessons We Learn from the Nicene Creed

Here are six summary statements—or, we might say, six lessons—we can learn from this seventeen-hundred year-old confession of faith, the Nicene Creed.

April 07, 2025 by: Kevin DeYoung

Six Summary Statements

Here are six summary statements—or, we might say, six lessons—we can learn from this seventeen-hundred year-old confession of faith, the Nicene Creed.

1. The Nicene Creed stresses the importance of believing the right thing.

Sadly, we often hear Christian leaders and churches today downplay the importance of doctrinal fidelity. They may not deny essential articles of the faith, but they can talk about doctrinal precision as if it were alien to the Christian faith or something that gets in the way of authentic discipleship. Such a spirit of doctrinal latitudinarianism is antithetical to the spirit of Nicaea. To be a part of the historic, orthodox Christian church, however, we must believe at least as much as is affirmed in the Nicene Creed. This means that Mormons (who do not accept Nicene orthodoxy), Unitarians (who deny the Trinity), and liberals (if they deny the deity of Christ, the virgin birth, and the resurrection) cannot be considered a part of the church catholic.

2. The history of the Nicene Creed teaches us that new statements (and modified statements) are often necessary to combat new errors.

The Nicene Creed doesn’t tell us everything we need to know and believe. If the 318 bishops from the Council of Nicaea were alive today, undoubtedly they would see the Christian faith threatened in new and different ways. The Nicene Creed is a creedal floor, not a creedal ceiling. The Creed of Nicaea itself was significantly changed from Nicaea (325) to Constantinople (381). The church considered it the same creed because it was doctrinally the same, but it represented a significant augmentation and probably started from a separate formula altogether. The church in the fourth century understood that new threats to the faith merit new efforts to delineate truth from error.

3. The Nicene Creed models for us the central importance of the Trinity.

Too many Christians give too little thought to the Trinity, and too few churches teach their people about the Trinity or make sure that their worship is thoroughly Trinitarian. By structuring its “rule of faith” around the Trinity, and by spending so much time trying to carefully explain and vigorously protect truths about the Trinity, the Nicene Creed shows us a better way. The doctrine of the Trinity is not a math problem to avoid or a largely irrelevant doctrine that we can tuck away in the attic of our minds. To be a Christian is to be baptized in the triune name and to worship the God who subsists as three persons sharing one undivided essence. If we want to know God as he is, what could be more important than knowing, studying, and loving the doctrine of the Trinity?

4. The Nicene Creed underscores the importance of “religion” for Christian life and worship.

We often hear that so-and-so is “spiritual but not religious.” Even Christians have gotten into a bad habit of making “religion” the bad guy opposite the good guy of the gospel. If religion means man-made worship or man’s attempt to earn God’s favor on his own, then Christianity has no place for religion. But usually when people talk about being “spiritual but not religious,” they mean that they want a faith that is unencumbered by doctrinal boundaries, sacred rites, and the institution of the church with its authority structure and obligations. The Nicene Creed emphasizes the importance of each of these “religious” elements. The faith of Nicaea assumes that the Christian is part of a church and understands the importance of the sacraments.

The history of the Nicene Creed teaches us that new statements (and modified statements) are often necessary to combat new errors.

5. The Nicene Creed is not embarrassed to view Christianity with a soteriological focus.

At the heart of the creed’s confession is the good news that the Lord Jesus Christ came down from heaven “for us and for our salvation.” Sometimes you hear people say that modern evangelicals invented this salvation-focused gospel, or that Westerners corrupted the gospel by making it so individualistic, or that medieval people were scared into believing in a God of judgment because the church wanted to control them. But we see right here in the fourth century that the church conceived of the Christian faith as irreducibly about sin and salvation, about judgment and forgiveness, about how we can be saved from the human problem that is sin and death.

6. The Nicene Creed points us to the future.

Part of what we respect and honor in the Nicene Creed is its age. It is ancient. It was the first official, ecumenical church creed. And Christians all around the world still use it seventeen hundred years later. But we would miss the point of the creed if we just admired it as a relic of history or as a connection with the past. The Nicene Creed itself ends by sending us into the future. The last line begins with the verb “we look” (prosdokumen in Greek). We look forward to, we desire, we anticipate, we hope for the resurrection of our bodies and eternal life in the world to come. In Latin, that final verb is expectamus. The Nicene Creed deliberately ends on a note of expectation and hope.

And remember, it is not just life that we are longing for—life without pain, life without sin, life with fellow Christians and with fellow family members who died in Christ. We look forward to all that, as well we should. But more importantly, the life we look forward to is life with the triune God—the God that the Nicene Creed does so much to explain and honor. For ages upon ages we will thrill to know and to worship God the Father Almighty, to bow before his only begotten Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, and to sing praise to the Holy Spirit, the Lord and giver of life.

This article is adapted from The Nicene Creed: What You Need to Know about the Most Important Creed Ever Written by Kevin DeYoung.

Kevin DeYoung (PhD, University of Leicester) is the senior pastor at Christ Covenant Church in Matthews, North Carolina, and associate professor of systematic theology at Reformed Theological Seminary, Charlotte. He has written books for children, adults, and academics, including Just Do Something; Impossible Christianity; Daily Doctrine; and The Biggest Story Bible Storybook. Kevin’s work can be found on clearlyreformed.org. Kevin and his wife, Trisha, have nine children.

Related Articles

The First Rule of Hermeneutics

Hermeneutics is not just an academic subject but crucial to rightly understanding the truth and to living a life that pleases God.

April 06, 2025 by: Abner Chou

Right and Wrong

Though society loves to swim in the sea of uncertainty, God does not rule that way. He declares what is right and wrong (Gen. 2:9; Ex. 15:26; Isa. 5:20), abhors chaos and confusion (1 Cor. 14:33), and will judge all based on his objective and righteous standard (Rev. 20:13). While people may use the excuse of interpretation now, that will not stand in the end, a reminder that hermeneutics is not just an academic subject but crucial to rightly understanding the truth and to living a life that pleases God.

For this reason, the Lord has not stayed silent on the issue of interpretation. Even in biblical times, false teachers were already appealing to the supposed subjectivity of interpretation, and God declared that Scripture is of no private interpretation (2 Pet. 1:20). The God who revealed his word also revealed how to study it and how all things should be understood. This should come as no surprise, as his word subjects all areas of this world to the lordship of Christ (2 Cor. 10:3–5). This hermeneutical standard revolves around three ideas: literal, grammatical, historical interpretation. Though some may argue that these ideas are late developments or simply insufficient, authorial intent expressed by the rules of grammar and in light of the facts of history is the way God wrote his word and demands it to be read. There is a standard for interpretation, and one can and must abide by it.

So instead of letting hermeneutics undermine sola Scriptura, sola Scriptura must capture hermeneutics. The meaning of Scripture is not lost in uncertainty and pluralism. God’s word is the final authority on all that it decrees, including its own interpretation, and going back to Scripture provides clarity that the interpretation of everything is not just a matter of interpretation.

Literal Interpretation

In the midst of interpretative confusion and convolution, God clearly decrees that the point of biblical interpretation is to determine the author’s intent. Second Timothy 3:16 establishes that the text of Scripture is God breathed, God’s very intent. God himself is the author, even as he worked through human authors. The biblical writers introduced Scripture with “Thus says the Lord” (Isa. 43:1; Jer. 49:1; Zech. 1:16), describing it as that which the prophet spoke (Matt. 2:17; 3:3; 15:7; John 1:23; 12:41) and that which came by “the word of the Lord” (Gen. 15:1; 1 Kings 6:11; Isa. 2:3; Zech. 1:1), declaring that the meaning of the Bible comes from God. They also called Scripture the “word of God” (1 Thess. 2:13), asserting that its meaning belongs to God. The apostles affirmed authorial intent as they confirmed that their writings were “as” (Rom. 11:26) and “in accordance with” (1 Cor. 15:3–4) what was revealed in the past by God through his prophets.

In addition to the prophets and apostles, Christ himself also insisted that the meaning of Scripture is what the author intended, describing it as “all that the prophets have spoken” (Luke 24:25). He declared that Scripture is fixed to this meaning and cannot be changed by the reader (John 10:35). To that end, the Lord showed that one cannot even use the Scripture in a way that God did not intend, condemning Satan when he tried to do so (Matt. 4:5–7). The Lord Jesus demonstrated that the only legitimate meaning of Scripture is that which the author willed, and God warned that those who twist this meaning do so to their own destruction (2 Pet. 3:16). While a text could have many potential meanings, God is unequivocal that a literal reading, one that aims at authorial intent, is the standard, a standard backed by God’s own authority. For God, hermeneutics is a moral issue.

The Lord not only established authorial intent as the standard for interpretation but also ensured that this intent was accessible. Some have argued that understanding authorial intent is an impossible task. After all, authors can miscommunicate, texts can be ambiguous, and readers cannot look into the mind of the author. Scripture reveals, however, that God ordained an unbreakable chain of communication. The doctrine of revelation shows that God purposed to make his message plain to his people (cf. Job 12:22; Isa. 45:18–19). To accomplish this, the doctrine of inspiration describes that God used human writers in their own speech to write down exactly what he meant (2 Tim. 3:16; 2 Pet. 1:19–21). Being guided by the Spirit, they spoke from God (2 Pet. 1:21), such that their intent is his intent and their words are his words. This ensures that divine truth is conveyed in human language, language that people can understand. Furthermore, what was written is inerrant (Ps. 19:8; John 17:17), demonstrating that human fallibility did not contaminate any expression of these truths in any way. Every word of Scripture, then, is divine communication, and God guaranteed that his people can understand it. The Lord regenerates people such that those who suppress the truth in unrighteousness (Rom. 1:18) become those who embrace it (Jer. 31:31). The Spirit, the very author of Scripture (2 Pet. 1:21), dwells in the hearts of believers, guiding and convicting them of all truth (Eph. 1:17; 5:18). So the God who purposed to make his truth known has not failed. He supernaturally ensured that his intent was preserved by the author through the text to the reader. Because of this, while clarity should not be confused with ease (cf. 2 Pet. 3:15), a believer who demonstrates hard work and follows the rules of language can access what the author intended.

In addition to ensuring the accessibility of authorial intent, God demonstrated that what the authors said is all-sufficient, for the writers of Scripture are nothing short of profound. Fundamentally, God, the author of all sixty-six books, knows all things (Ps. 139:3–4), making Scripture the source of the highest truth. Moreover, the men whom he used to write his word were also exegetes and theologians in their own right. The prophets and apostles knew their Bibles well, in both depth and breadth, constantly alluding to other parts of Scripture to develop the theology of earlier revelation. They addressed the current issues of their times by expounding universal truths, giving a theology that they knew would have implications beyond their time (Pss. 22:30–31; 102:18; 1 Pet. 1:10–12). As opposed to the viewpoint of higher criticism, which maintains that the scriptural writers knew only limited sources, were fixated on their present moment, and wrote limited theology insincerely with political aims, Scripture presents a completely different picture. The biblical writers were, under inspiration, foremost theologians who knew God’s word and whose mission was to declare its theological message not only for their time but for all time.

When people truly tremble before God, they become wise because they listen to the only one who knows what he is talking about.

The prophets’ and apostles’ theological purpose can be especially observed when one considers that they not only wrote information but wrote with intent—and this covers what they said, why they said it, and the “so what” of these truths. That the authors wrote with intent is why Jesus can claim that the law not only concerned adultery but lust (Matt. 5:27–28), why Paul stated that muzzling the ox related to paying one’s pastor (1 Cor. 9:9–10), or why the same apostle declared that narratives had theological ideas (Gal. 4:21–31). To be sure, the biblical authors wrote stories, laws, and poetry. But while that is what they wrote, that is not all they purposed or meant by it. The reason why they wrote these things was to declaretheological truth set by context for the instruction and hope of those whowould read it (Rom. 15:4).

Thus, to any who wonder if Scripture can really address the complexities of life, it is designed for that very purpose. Its stories weave together the reason that things are the way they are, its prophecies reveal the goal of history and life, its theology categorizes all existence, and its imperatives articulate the right way to live in light of the truth. All these components formulate a complete worldview, demonstrating that Scripture supplies all one needs for life and godliness (2 Pet. 1:3). While humanity has come up with reasons—from inaccessibility to irrelevance—to disregard authorial intent, the way God has ordained his word leaves us without excuse.

Why do people so oppose the demand to read the Bible in light of the author’s intent? Inherent in the word authority is the word author, which reveals the heart of the issue. People resist authorial intent in order to resist divine authority. From the Jews of the Old Testament who misrepresented God’s promises (Jer. 7:4) to the Judaizers of the New Testament who twisted God’s law (Matt. 15:3; Gal. 2:11–14), people have constantly attempted to add or subtract from Scripture (cf. Deut. 4:2). Humanity’s interpretative philosophies and creativity are efforts to justify breaking free from the authority of Scripture and live the way they want. These efforts to undermine authorial intent go back to Genesis 3:1 and the serpent’s question “Did God actually say . . . ?” While humans, however, have persistently attempted to reshape God’s word into their own image, God has never accepted such ​​reformulations. As for Adam and his wife, who doubted and disobeyed his word, God cast them out of the garden (Gen. 3:24). As for the Israelites who misapplied his promises, God taught them never to presume on his grace (Jer. 7:12–15). As for the Judaizers who perverted God’s law, the Lord judged the entire nation (Luke 23:28–29). Those who twist the Scriptures do so to their own destruction (2 Pet. 3:16), a reminder that God not only says he defines the meaning of Scripture but takes the matter seriously.

So the first rule of hermeneutics is that humanity does not have hermeneutical freedom. God is not ambiguous about his interpretative standard but has revealed truth that is to be heard and done on his terms (James 1:25). As opposed to ignoring, talking over, or adding one’s own commentary over Scripture, the saint is simply to hear and obey. That is why God constantly calls his people to listen to his word (cf. Josh. 3:9; 1 Kings 22:19; 2 Chron. 18:18; Isa. 1:10; 28:14; Jer. 2:4; Ezek. 16:35; Acts 15:7; Rom. 10:17; Rev. 1:3). Hermeneutics is all about surrender. And that pertains not only to Bible interpretation but also to the rest of life. There is a reason that one is not to lean on one’s own understanding (Prov. 3:5–6) and that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom (Prov. 1:7; cf. Job 28:28). When people truly tremble before God, they become wise because they listen to the only one who knows what he is talking about. There is a fundamental rule, established by God, for interpreting Scripture and life. Properly understanding the text is not a matter of thinking about what it could mean, what one desires it to mean, or what a community assigns it to mean. It is about surrendering to what the author meant—that is, to what God meant through his inspiration of the biblical writers. If one desires to study Scripture and all of life rightly, he or she must master this discipline.

This article is adapted from Think Biblically: Recovering a Christian Worldview edited by John MacArthur and Abner Chou.

Abner Chou (ThD, The Master’s Seminary) is president and John F. MacArthur endowed fellow at the Master’s University. He has taught classes in Bible and theology and is a plenary speaker and guest lecturer. He and his wife, Johanna, have four children.

Related Articles

10 Key Bible Verses on Sabbath

So God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it God rested from all his work that he had done in creation.

April 05, 2025 by: Crossway

This article is part of the Key Bible Verses series.

All commentary notes adapted from the ESV Study Bible.

1. Genesis 2:2–3

And on the seventh day God finished his work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all his work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it God rested from all his work that he had done in creation. Read More

These verses bring to a conclusion the opening section of Genesis by emphasizing that God has completed the process of ordering creation. The repeated comment that God rested does not imply that he was weary from labor. The effortless ease with which everything is done in ch. 1 suggests otherwise. Rather, the motif of God’s resting hints at the purpose of creation. As reflected in various ancient Near Eastern accounts, divine rest is associated with temple building. God’s purpose for the earth is that it should become his dwelling place; it is not simply made to house his creatures. God’s “activities” on this day (he finished, “rested,” “blessed,” “made it holy”) all fit this delightful pattern. The concept of the earth as a divine sanctuary, which is developed further in Gen. 2:4–25, runs throughout the whole Bible, coming to a climax in the future reality that the apostle John sees in his vision of a “new heaven and a new earth” in Rev. 21:1–22:5. God blessed the seventh day and made it holy (Gen. 2:3). These words provide the basis for the obligation that God placed on the Israelites to rest from their normal labor on the Sabbath day (see Ex. 20:8–11). There is no evening-followed-by-morning refrain for this day, prompting many to conclude that the seventh day still continues (which seems to underlie John 5:17; Heb. 4:3–11).

2. Exodus 20:8–11

Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor, and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, you, or your son, or your daughter, your male servant, or your female servant, or your livestock, or the sojourner who is within your gates. For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy. Read More

Israel is to remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy (Ex. 20:8). The Lord had already begun to form the people’s life in the rhythm of working for six days(Ex. 20:9) and resting on the seventh day as a Sabbath (Ex. 20:10) through the instructions for collecting manna (see Ex. 16:22–26). Here the command is grounded further in the way that it imitates the Lord’s pattern in creation (Ex. 20:11; see Gen. 2:1–3). Every aspect of Israel’s life is to reflect that the people belong to the Lord and are sustained by his hand. The weekly pattern of work and rest is to be a regular and essential part of this (see Ex. 31:12–18). In Deut. 5:15, Moses gives another reason for observing the day: it recalls their redemption from slavery in Egypt.

3. Psalm 92:1–4

It is good to give thanks to the LORD,
     to sing praises to your name, O Most High;
to declare your steadfast love in the morning,
     and your faithfulness by night,
to the music of the lute and the harp,
     to the melody of the lyre.
For you, O LORD, have made me glad by your work;
     at the works of your hands I sing for joy. Read More

Weekly Sabbath Worship Is Good. One of the most basic features of worship on the Sabbath day is celebrating God’s greatness in presiding over his creation and his goodness toward his faithful. The words give thanks, sing praises, declare, and sing for joy all describe the significance of the songs sung in gathered worship, along with musical accompaniment (lute, harp, lyre). The songs honor God for what he has revealed about himself, recalling Ex. 34:5–7, where God explained his name (Ps. 92:1), especially his benevolence toward his people (he is abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness).

4. Isaiah 56:2

Blessed is the man who does this,
and the son of man who holds it fast,
who keeps the Sabbath, not profaning it,
and keeps his hand from doing any evil. Read More

The Sabbath is a covenant sign that represents a lifestyle of devotion to the Lord, for it requires the practical reorganization of every week around him (cf. Ex. 31:12–17; Ezek. 20:18–20). True observance of the Sabbath entails not just refraining from work but also refraining from doing any evil.

5. Romans 14:5–6

One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord. The one who eats, eats in honor of the Lord, since he gives thanks to God, while the one who abstains, abstains in honor of the Lord and gives thanks to God. Read More

The weak thought some days were more important than others. Given the Jewish background here (Rom.14:14), the day that is supremely in view is certainly the Sabbath. The strong think every day is the same. Both views are permissible. Each person must follow his own conscience. What is remarkable is that the Sabbath is no longer a binding commitment for Paul but a matter of one’s personal conviction. Unlike the other nine commandments in Ex. 20:1–17, the Sabbath commandment seems to have been part of the “ceremonial laws” of the Mosaic covenant, like the dietary laws and the laws about sacrifices, all of which are no longer binding on new covenant believers (see also Gal. 4:10; Col. 2:16–17). However, it is still wise to take regular times of rest from work, and regular times of worship are commanded for Christians (Heb. 10:24–25; cf. Acts 20:7).

Whether one observes a special day, or eats all foods, or abstains from some foods, the important thing is the honor of the Lord and to give thanks to God.

6. Matthew 12:5–8

Or have you not read in the Law how on the Sabbath the priests in the temple profane the Sabbath and are guiltless? I tell you, something greater than the temple is here. And if you had known what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice,’ you would not have condemned the guiltless. For the Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath. Read More

The fact that priests, in carrying out their duties, had to work on (and thus “profane”) the Sabbath, but were guiltless in doing so, shows that God made allowances within the law.

something greater. The Sabbath points to Christ (see Matt.12:8) and to the “rest” he gives from the impossible task of earning salvation by good works (Matt. 11:28).

the Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath. Jesus does not challenge the Sabbath law itself but rather the Pharisees’ interpretation of it. As Messiah, Jesus authoritatively interprets every aspect of the law (Matt. 5:17–48) and here points out the Pharisees’ blindness to the actual intent of the Sabbath—to bring rest and well-being. This final argument in response to the Pharisees’ challenge (Matt. 12:2) is the decisive argument—that because of who Jesus is, he has the authority to interpret the law.

7. Mark 2:27–28

And he said to them, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. So the Son of Man is lord even of the Sabbath.” Read More

The Sabbath was made for man. Jesus next emphasizes that man is not to be confined by the Sabbath but rather that the Sabbath is given as a gift to man (for spiritual and physical refreshment). Again Jesus emphasizes his authority as Son of Man. If the Sabbath is for the benefit of mankind, and if the Son of Man is Lord over all mankind, then the Son of Man is surely lord even of the Sabbath.

8. John 5:16–17

And this was why the Jews were persecuting Jesus, because he was doing these things on the Sabbath. But Jesus answered them, “My Father is working until now, and I am working.” Read More

Jesus’ Jewish opponents were putting their merely human religious tradition above genuine love and compassion for others, which the OT commanded (e.g., Lev. 19:18) and Jesus exemplified. It was Jesus, not these Jews, who was truly obeying the Scriptures.

My Father suggests a far closer relationship with God than other people had (see 20:17). When Jesus says, “My Father is working until now, and I am working,” he implies that he, like the Father, is lord over the Sabbath. Therefore this is a claim to deity. These Jews recognize what he is claiming (see John 5:18). While Gen. 2:2–3 teaches that God rested (Hb. shabat) on the seventh day of creation, Jewish rabbis agreed that God continually upholds the universe, yet without breaking the Sabbath. (In John 7:22–23 Jesus makes a different argument about healing on the Sabbath.)

9. Colossians 2:16–17

Therefore let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink, or with regard to a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath. These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ. Read More

food and drink . . . a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath. The false teacher(s) were advocating a number of Jewish observances, arguing that they were essential for spiritual advancement.

a shadow of the things to come. The old covenant observances pointed to a future reality that was fulfilled in the Lord Jesus Christ (cf. Heb. 10:1). Hence, Christians are no longer under the Mosaic covenant (cf. Rom. 6:14–15; 7:1–6; 2 Cor. 3:4–18; Gal. 3:15–4:7). Christians are no longer obligated to observe OT dietary laws (“food and drink”) or festivals, holidays, and special days (“a festival . . . new moon . . . Sabbath,” Col. 2:16), for what these things foreshadowed has been fulfilled in Christ. It is debated whether the Sabbaths in question included the regular seventh-day rest of the fourth commandment, or were only the special Sabbaths of the Jewish festal calendar.

10. Hebrews 4:8–10

For if Joshua had given them rest, God would not have spoken of another day later on. So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God, for whoever has entered God’s rest has also rested from his works as God did from his. Read More

For if Joshua had given them rest. One could conceivably argue that the “rest” that the exodus generation sought was their entrance into the Promised Land. However, that entrance occurred in the days of Joshua, and Psalm 95 (with its promise of “today” entering into God’s rest) is subsequent to Joshua’s day (referred to as “so long afterward” in Heb. 4:7). Therefore, the Sabbath rest remains possible for God’s people to enter even now, in this life (Heb. 4:9). The promise of entering now into this rest means ceasing from the spiritual strivings that reflect uncertainty about one’s final destiny; it means enjoyment of being established in the presence of God, to share in the everlasting joy that God entered when he rested on the seventh day (Heb. 4:10).

Popular Articles in This Series

View All

How Israel’s Exile Is Fulfilled in Jesus’s Exile and Return

It can come as a shock when we first hear that Israel’s exile never truly ended in the Old Testament. I know I was shocked the first time I considered the idea.

April 03, 2025 by: Nicholas G. Piotrowski

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel, and Ransom Captive Israel

It can come as a shock when we first hear that Israel’s exile never truly ended in the Old Testament. I know I was shocked the first time I considered the idea. I bet Daniel was equally shocked when he first heard it from the angel, Gabriel, in Daniel 9:20–24. But it makes sense when we pause to consider that Israel’s exile (which you can read about in 2 Kings 17 and 2 Kings 24) was not merely the experience of forced relocation but also brought with it the loss of the Davidic dynasty and the destruction of the Jerusalem temple. Thus, exile is a theological condition of God’s people that began with the deportation. Sure, while some people did come home with Ezra, the prophets of Israel forecasted a day when the exile would end with a new Davidic king (Isa. 9:1–7; Mic. 5:1–4) and a glorious new temple (Isa. 2:1–5; Mic. 4:1‒13). Equally, there will be a great end-times atonement at the end of exile (Isa. 40:1‒2; 52:13‒53:12) and a resurrection (Isa. 25:6‒8; Isa. 26:19; Ezek. 37:1‒14). Thus, the OT prophetic vision for the end of the exile is (at least) a regathering of Israel’s scattered people, the re-enthronement of the house of David, a new glorious, world-wide temple, an end-all atonement, and a bodily resurrection. All of this amounts to “a great light [for] those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness” (Isa. 9:2).

With that background the opening chapters of Matthew simply leap off the page! Jesus is the son of David (Matt. 1:1) “after the deportation” (Matt. 1:12). He is the king of the Jews (Matt. 2:2). His ministry is called “a great light” for “the people dwelling in darkness” (Matt. 4:16). He gathers up his people (Matt. 4:18‒22, 25; cf. also Matt. 14:19‒20), and his death is a new covenant atoning sacrifice (Matt. 26:26‒28). John even calls him “the temple” (John 2:21), and Paul says that Jesus’s followers—through union with him—are the new temple spreading throughout the world (Eph. 2:17‒22). All this stacks up to present Jesus’s life, death and resurrection, and ongoing life of the church as the true end of exile! Let’s take a deeper look into each of those movements: Jesus’s life; Jesus’s death and resurrection; Jesus’s people.

Jesus’s Life as the Dawn of Return of the Exile

In the book of Isaiah, the prophet describes at length what the end of the exile will be like. He says that at the end of the exile, “the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then the lame man will leap” (Isa. 35:5‒6), the “dead shall live; their bodies shall rise” (Isa. 26:19), the sick will be healed (Isa. 57:18), and “good news” will be preached “to the poor” (Isa. 61:1). When John the Baptist wonders if Jesus is the one to come, Jesus points to his miracles and teachings as signs that indeed he is. And he points out the specific miracles and teachings that Isaiah said would mark the end of the exile. He says, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them” (Matt 11:4‒5). Indeed, Jesus is the one to come. And specifically, he is the one to come at the end of the exile. Thus, with Jesus’s ministry the dawn of return-from-exile light is breaking over the horizon!

Cursed and exiled from God because of our own sin, we are brought back into his presence through Christ’s righteousness!

Jesus’s Death & Resurrection as the Moment of Return from Exile

Yet, the quintessential moment of release from exile comes at Jesus’s death and resurrection. Moses himself had predicted the exile and called it a “curse” (see Deut 27:9‒26; 28:15‒68). Paul, in Galatians 3:10, says that disobedience to the law results in a “curse” (citing Deut. 27:26), but then exults that “Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us” (Gal. 3:13). Thus, Jesus’s death is his own personal exile that he endured on behalf of his people. Further, Hebrews 8:1‒2 tells us that in Jesus’s resurrection, he has gone into the true sanctuary of God. Thus, through the resurrection (and ascension) Jesus now ministers in the true sanctuary of God on behalf of his people. Through Jesus, therefore, Christians can say that their exile is over! We “have been crucified with Christ” (Gal. 2:20) and “raised up with him and seated . . . in the heavenly places” (Eph. 2:6). Cursed and exiled from God because of our own sin, we are brought back into his presence through Christ’s righteousness!

Jesus’s People as the Ongoing Return from Exile Community

Finally, it is highly significant that Jesus’s ministry is not only in the past, but through his Spirit, he is continually reaching the world. In Romans 6:4 we are told that “just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too . . . walk in the newness of life.” This means that to be born again is to experience the same power that raised Jesus from the dead! Peter puts it like this: “he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Pet. 1:3). Thus, Jesus’s return-from-exile resurrection is still felt all over the world every time a sinner repents, follows Jesus, and walks in the newness of life.

We can say, therefore, that through Jesus, Christians have come out of exile (Jesus’s finished work in the cross and resurrection) and are coming out of exile (experiencing Jesus’s resurrection power in our lives in union with him). But we can also go a step further. Christians also will come out of exile finally and fully when Jesus returns. Then, “the dwelling place of God [will be] with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God” (Rev. 21:3). Amen! Come Lord Jesus!

Nicholas G. Piotrowski is the author of Return from Exile and the Renewal of God’s People.

Nicholas G. Piotrowski (PhD, Wheaton College) is the president of Indianapolis Theological Seminary where he also teaches hermeneutics and New Testament courses. His other books include In All the Scriptures and Matthew’s New David at the End of Exile.

Related Articles

The Appeal to Reasoning Has Its Place in the Life of God’s People

How should the word of revelation, the witness of Christian thought, and the world of human brokenness be related to one another? This, I believe, is a work of wisdom.

April 02, 2025 by: Graham A. Cole

A Work of Wisdom

What is wisdom? In biblical perspective, wisdom is not reducible to the accumulation of data, information gathering, or knowledge acquisition, even though all three have their place. Wisdom knows what to do with data, information, and knowledge for both thought and life. Moreover, wisdom is predicated on an attitude:

The fear of the Lord. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge;
     fools despise wisdom and instruction. (Prov. 1:7)

This reverent attitude recognizes that God is God and that we are not God. The contrast is striking between the wise person characterized by one attitude and the fool by another. Additionally, wisdom involves an activity of both acute and astute observation. The wise person knows how to pay attention to reality and take instruction from what is seen. Proverbs 6:6–11 provides a good example:

Go to the ant,
      O sluggard; consider her ways, and be wise.
Without having any chief,
      officer, or ruler,
she prepares her bread in summer
      and gathers her food in harvest.

The lesson is then drawn:

How long will you lie there, O sluggard?
     When will you arise from your sleep?
A little sleep, a little slumber,
     a little folding of the hands to rest,
and poverty will come upon you like a robber,
     and want like an armed man.

The wise person prospers, the fool does not. The wise person can make a connection between what is observed in nature (the ant’s behavior in summer with winter coming) and human life.

In theology, wisdom is reasoning employed as the servant of Scripture and not as the master of Scripture. I have chosen “reasoning” quite deliberately. Reason must not be reified as though it were a thing separate from us. Reason does not function on its own, in a spiritual vacuum. Persons reason. Persons mount arguments, question or demolish them, and marshal or dismiss evidence. And persons do that either in submission to God or in conflict with him.

So where does human reasoning fit in the story of wisdom? It was the philosopher William James (1842–1910) who defined philosophy as “the unusually stubborn attempt to think clearly.”1 No less a stubborn attempt is necessary for doing theology or reasoning in general. Yet reason can only ever be norma normata (a ruled norm), as we’ve seen. To place reason above Scripture was the error of the Sadducees. Jesus chided them, “You are wrong, because you know neither the Scriptures nor the power of God” (Matt. 22:29). Their formal mistake lay in their ignorance of relevant Scripture. Their material mistake was their not seeing how Exodus 3:6 affected the resurrection question.

Importantly, there is a moral dimension to knowing. Early in the twentieth century, the Scottish theologian P. T. Forsyth captured that dimension in writing: “Logic is rooted in Ethic, for the truth we see depends upon the men we are.”2 Forsyth must not be misunderstood. He did not argue that the truth depends upon the kind of moral agents we are. But our ability to recognize the truth, see the truth, has a moral component. Virtue epistemology has its place.3 Jesus taught that it is the pure in heart who see God (Matt. 5:8). It is those who do the will of God who know (John 7:17). In fact, the wise person is the virtuous one.

Some may think that the fall has so damaged the human mind that without the aid of the Spirit there can be no true thought about anything. Some confuse this notion with the noetic effects of sin.4 However, Jesus thought that the crowds were able to interpret natural phenomena like weather patterns (e.g., Luke 12:54–56). Moreover, he expected Nicodemus as a teacher of Israel to have understood his teaching about the new birth, even though Nicodemus needed the new birth himself (John 3:1–10). Nicodemus asked, “How can these things be?” (John 3:9). Jesus’s reply had a certain sharpness to it: “Are you the teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things?” (John 3:10). Even Pilate understood on some level what Jesus was claiming, though he did not believe it: “Pilate also wrote an inscription and put it on the cross. It read, ‘Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews’” (John 19:19). The chief priests also understood what Jesus was claiming but wanted the inscription nuanced: “Many of the Jews read this inscription, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and it was written in Aramaic, in Latin, and in Greek. So the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, ‘Do not write, “The King of the Jews,” but rather, “This man said, I am King of the Jews”’” (John 19:20–21).

Sin causes not a cognitive disability but an affective disinclination to trust in God, honor him, or give thanks to him (Rom. 1:21). As both John Calvin and Jonathan Edwards taught, the Spirit in the new birth changes our affections so that we embrace the things of God.5 In particular, this change in our affections shows itself in our hospitable reception to the word of God (see Acts 17:17; 1 Thess. 2:13; and in contrast, 1 Cor. 2:13–14).6 There is, therefore, a crucial spiritual dimension to knowing God through his word.

The Appeal to Reason in Scripture

In so many of the prophetic writings of the Old Testament, God is arguing his case against his people, who have trodden under foot their covenant with him. Even so, God comes with an invitation:

Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord:
though your sins are like scarlet,
     they shall be as white as snow,
though they are red like crimson,
     they shall become like wool. (Isa. 1:1)

The sins in view are delineated in the earlier part of Isaiah 1: rebellion, iniquity, corruption, vain offerings, and blood on guilty hands. The prospect of a change of fortune is offered:

If you are willing and obedient,
     you shall eat the good of the land. (Isa. 1:19)

Then logic of the alternative is spelled out:

But if you refuse and rebel,
     you shall be eaten by the sword;
     for the mouth of the Lord has spoken. (Isa. 1:20)

In Isaiah 41, God challenges the gods of the nations:

Set forth your case, says the Lord;
     bring your proofs, says the King of Jacob. (Isa. 41:21)

Among other things, the God of Israel can declare what is to come (Isa. 41:22–23). The gods are impotent on that point (Isa. 41:24). As in a courtroom, the living God knows how to argue and mount a case.

Sin causes not a cognitive disability but an affective disinclination to trust in God, honor him, or give thanks to him.

In the New Testament we see Jesus in debate with opponents and using well-known forms of logical argument. Indeed, philosopher Dallas Willard describes Jesus as “the Logician” because of “his use of logic and his obvious powers of logical thinking as manifested in the Gospels of the New Testament.”7 Mark 3 presents an interesting example. Jesus’s ministry in Galilee has attracted scribes from Jerusalem to come down and take a look. They cannot deny the miraculous. Instead, they offer an alternative explanation: Jesus’s exorcisms are the work of the devil, not God. Jesus counters:

And he called them to him and said to them in parables, “How can Satan cast out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but is coming to an end.” (Isa. 1:23–26)

This example is a classic reductio ad absurdum (reduction to absurdity) argument. If the scribes were right, then think it through: Satan would be in the process of self-destruction by destroying his own minions. Jesus offers a much more plausible explanation with his own self-reference implied: “But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his goods, unless he first binds the strong man. Then indeed he may plunder his house” (Isa. 1:27).

Jesus also uses argument in a positive way to instruct disciples. So, to encourage prayer, for example, he teaches in the Sermon on the Mount, “If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him!” (Matt. 7:11). This is an a fortiori (for the stronger) argument. If the lesser is so, how much more the greater.8

The apostle Paul also knew how to appeal to reason. He offers the Corinthians a cumulative case for believing in Christ’s resurrection. The Old Testament Scriptures predicted resurrection. The risen Christ was seen by the apostles, his brother James, by Paul himself, and some five hundred others, most of whom were still alive at the time of Paul’s writing (1 Cor. 15:1–11). But Paul does not leave it at that. He also explores the logic of the alternative in a series of hypothetical syllogisms (1 Cor. 15:12–19). If Christ were not risen, then what would follow step after step? The logical form of this part of his case is called a sorites.

Peter in his first letter makes the point more generally when he calls for “always being prepared to make a defense [apologia, “apology”] to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope [the gospel] that is in you.” Christians are to share not only what they believe but also why they believe it when challenged to do so. Defending the faith is Christian apology, and such a defense requires a reason (logos, “word,” “reason”).

In the light of the cumulative testimony of both the Old Testament and the New, the appeal to reasoning has its place in the life of God’s people. Biblical religion is a religion of the heart, but in biblical thought the heart includes the mind.9

Notes:

  1. Quoted in Gary E. Kessler, Voices of Wisdom: A Multicultural Philosophy Reader (Belmont, CA: Wadsworth, 1992), 9. Wisdom is especially needed when we appeal to Scripture to address issues not mentioned in Scripture (e.g., abortion). It is important to make a distinction between philosophy as an activity of careful thought and philosophy as the doctrines taught by this philosopher or that, which may be thoroughly anti-Christian (see, e.g., Daniel C. Dennett, Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon). The theologian can greatly profit from knowing and using the tools generated by the activity of philosophy (e.g., conceptual analysis). Christians who are philosophers and theologians who can philosophize have their place in the theological enterprise.
  2. P. T. Forsyth, The Principle of Authority in Relation to Certainty, Sanctity and Society: An Essay in the Philosophy of Experimental Religion, 2nd ed. (London: Independent Press, 1952), 9.
  3. Indeed, the wise person is characterized by virtue, and the foolish one is characterized by vice. It is also important to recognize that the possession of knowledge does not guarantee either virtue or wisdom. Paul wrote to the Corinthians how knowledge can puff one up (1 Cor. 8:1).
  4. Nous is the Greek word for “mind.”
  5. I have on my bookshelf a New Testament study Bible annotated by Jewish scholars. I was struck, in reading the notes on, e.g., Eph. 2:8–10, that I could have written them myself. The writer understands what Paul is asserting about salvation by faith and not works. But believing it is another thing. See Amy-Jill Levine and Marc Zvi Brettler, eds., The Jewish Annotated New Testament (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 347.
  6. Was a change in affection also the experience of Old Testament saints? This question raises the issue of whether Old Testament believers were born again, and with it the matter of the continuity or discontinuity between the old covenant and the new covenant. On this question see Graham A. Cole, He Who Gives Life: The Doctrine of the Holy Spirit (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2007), 143–45. I argue that indeed Old Testament believers were regenerated.
  7. Dallas Willard, “Jesus the Logician,” Dallas Willard (website), http://www.dwillard .org/articles/artview.asp?artID=39, accessed November 29, 2017. Also see Juan Valdes, “Jesus: The Master of Critical Thinking,” Reasons for Hope (website), https://www.rforh .com/resources/know-it/diving-deeper/jesus-the-master-of-critical-thinking, accessed November 29, 2017.
  8. The book of Hebrews offers an a fortiori argument in Heb. 9:13–14: “For if the blood of goats and bulls, and the sprinkling of defiled persons with the ashes of a heifer, sanctify for the purification of the flesh, how much more [a fortiori] will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God.”
  9. For an excellent discussion of reason in the service of God, see John Webster, Holiness (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2003), 10–30. I am grateful to Oren Martin for reminding me of this fine work.

This article is adapted from Theological Method: An Introduction by Graham A. Cole.

Graham A. Cole (ThD, Australian College of Theology) is emeritus dean and emeritus professor of biblical and systematic theology at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School. An ordained Anglican minister, he has served in two parishes and was formerly the principal of Ridley College. Graham lives in Australia with his wife, Jules.

Related Articles

Why Must We Read the Old and New Testament as a Unified Body of Scripture?

We need to recognize that the one God who spoke in the Old Testament also speaks in the New Testament.

April 01, 2025 by: Daniel Stevens

Old Points to New

I would say that the two fundamental things that we need to do is first recognize and then notice. We need to recognize that the one God who spoke in the Old Testament also speaks in the New Testament. We should expect, then, that he knew what he was doing all along, and he knew what he was going to say when he was giving his earlier revelation.

Because all Scripture is God-breathed and because the God who spoke in the prophets to the fathers also speaks to us in the Son, we can be confident that things in the Old Testament do correspond to and do point to the things in the New. We can be sure that it’s a possible project, that reading the Old and the New together isn’t going back in time in a way that’s inappropriate, but is indeed what we were designed to do.

Second, we need to notice. For this I’m going to say we need to notice both parallels and resonances. We need to be able to see where the words of the Old Testament are used in the New Testament. This isn’t an accident or something that happens by chance, rather the New Testament authors, guided by God, were carefully reading and interpreting the Old Testament Scriptures.

Whenever we’re using their words, we should stop and ask Why? and How? What point is this citation being used to make? In what ways are these themes being developed in this new setting in the New Testament books? What context is brought in that we wouldn’t expect or that we might? And then beyond the actual exact words of the Old and the New, we should see resonances. Look for ways in which things in the Old Testament look like things in the New Testament.

God structured history and inspired the Old Testament to point forward to greater realities in the New.

In the book of Hebrews, it is commonly referred to as shadows or types—things in the way that God structured history and inspired the Old Testament that point forward to greater realities in the New. So we can see the tabernacle and see the ways in which that points to the place where Jesus ministers in heaven before the presence of God for us.

We can see the Levitical priesthood and the sacrifices on the day of atonement, and we can use that resonance to see the way that Jesus offers himself once and for all to atone for the people.

So if we have these things in mind—the one God who spoke in the past still speaks in all of his word, and if we see how the words are used again and the themes correspond—we will be able to read the Old and the New alongside one another for our good.

Daniel Stevens is the author of Songs of the Son: Reading the Psalms with the Author of Hebrews.

Daniel Stevens (PhD, University of Cambridge) is assistant professor of New Testament Interpretation at Boyce College, the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. Daniel lives in Louisville, Kentucky, with his wife, Hannah, and two children.

Related Articles