Evangelicals are called “People of the Book,” or sometimes “bibliolaters” or venerators of a “paper pope.” But I wonder how accurate these labels really are. How effectively is God’s Word being studied and communicated today?
Recently I heard about a teacher in a Christian college who his first semester of teaching biblical studies made a particular point of repeating key terms, spelling them out and writing them on the blackboard. He thought he was making himself perfectly clear to his students. But much to his chagrin, at the end of that semester he found himself with an “Odd Answer File,” a collection of such answers as these: The place where Moses received the law was Mount Sinus. Overshadowing the mercy seat were two golden cherry emblems. In Numbers 35 there were appointed six cities of refuse. The two agricultural products of Palestine were tobacco and wheat. Roman Catholic theologians speak of two kinds of sin, moral and venereal.
If this happens in the college classroom, what must be the problems of communication between a pastor and his congregation or a Sunday-school teacher and her pupils? I am convinced that we have something valuable to learn from the Jews as we try to bring about more effective biblical teaching.
We have assumed that a brief period of instruction on Sunday morning can make our young people well versed in the Scriptures and the Judeo-Christian heritage. Not long ago a rabbi friend of mine was lamenting the fact that many adults in his congregation viewed the main responsibility of the synagogue as training children in the tradition until the age of thirteen. The rabbi referred to this as “pediatric Judaism.” He deeply regretted the feeling of these adults that continuing education in the faith was not really very important once a child had received his Bar Mitzvah. In a similar vein, we should ask why in our churches the Sunday-school attrition rate is so high among those between twelve and fourteen. We greatly need teachers who not only love, accept, and understand these young people but also can make the Scriptures come to life in addressing the perplexing problems of the merging adolescent.
The Jews have historically viewed the synagogue as having a threefold function. Not only is it a “House of Assembly” where social life is carried on and a “House of Prayer” where worship is made, but it is also a “House of Study.” Indeed, so basic to the life of the synagogue is study and learning that in the Yiddish language a synagogue is called shut, whose German source Schule means “school.” Many of the synagogues throughout America are concerned enough about the Hebrew heritage to provide instruction on weekday afternoons (and on weekends too) both in Hebrew and in the traditions of Judaism. Can evangelicals afford to settle for less than is required of many Jewish children? The Christian may try to ease his conscience by appealing to family devotions or Sunday-evening young people’s meetings. But these clearly are not enough, since we still have the problem of inarticulate and sometimes biblically illiterate Christians. Perhaps when a pastor hears, “My son went to the university and came back an agnostic,” or, “He’s in the army and has lost his faith,” he would do well to ask that parent: What quality of faith did your son have to lose? A brief Sunday scanning of Scripture can hardly be expected to produce a stable, well-informed, well-grounded Christian.
Are the biblical truths pastors preach coming through to the man in the pew as clearly as anticipated? Not always. A church deacon recently admitted that for many years he had understood the words of Christ that “man shall not live by bread alone” to mean that man also needs some meat and vegetables to stay alive. One summer Sunday a church that had been exposed to premillennial teaching continually for some twenty-five years had a guest speaker whose topic was, “The Biblical Doctrine of Amillennialism.” Problems? No. Not one lay person detected any difference in emphasis.
The Talmud of the Jews states that in the world to come the first three questions asked of a man are, “Did you buy and sell in good faith? Did you have a set time for study? Did you raise a family?” It may well be that the second of these questions has something vital to say to us Christians.
For the Jew, piety has long been bound up with learning. The rabbis taught, “An ignorant man cannot be a pious man.” One Talmudic sage even wrote, “He who does not study deserves to die.” Because the rabbis viewed scholarly study of the Torah as a kind of sacrament, spiritual suicide resulted from its neglect.
The principal function of a rabbi historically has been that of scholar-teacher. He is responsible for transmitting the heritage of his faith to young and old alike. Unlike the Christian minister, who usually claims a call from God, the rabbi has an authority based primarily on his learning. He is trained in a yeshivah or seminary to be a teacher and interpreter of the Jewish tradition. A command of Jewish law and ethical tradition is not acquired overnight. The rabbi who desires to be an articulate interpreter views the study of Scriptures and tradition as a lifelong process. His task is to take the customs and traditions of the past and make them pertinent and meaningful to the present. Is the task of the Christian engaged in the exposition of God’s Word any less demanding?
The New Testament shows that Christ was addressed as “rabbi” on a number of occasions; in fact, the gospel writers make nearly twice as many references to Christ’s teaching ministry as to his preaching ministry. Around Christ clustered a group of disciples eager to learn at the feet of their Master, who poured new meaning and life into the Jewish dogmas of the day.
Like his Lord, the Christian pastor is ordained to a teaching ministry for the purpose of producing disciples. One of Christ’s gifts to his church was the role of pastor-teacher: “His gifts were that some should be … pastors and teachers” (Eph. 4:11). A basic rule of Greek syntax suggested by Granville Sharp well over a century ago suggests that this verse refers not to separate offices in the church but rather to a single office, the combination of the teaching and pastoral gifts in one man. Paul makes this clear to the young pastor Timothy when he writes that “the Lord’s servant must … be … an apt teacher” (2 Tim. 2:24; cf. 1 Tim. 3:2).
The pastor, like the rabbi, has the responsibility of transmitting the heritage of his faith to others. Good teaching produces a chain reaction. With the making of disciples comes the training of others to teach. The task that Paul described to Timothy embraces four generations of teachers: “What you have heard from me before many witnesses entrust to faithful men who will be able to teach others also” (2 Tim. 2:2). Tradition (paradosis) in the New Testament was the handing down” or “over” of that which had been received (cf. 1 Cor. 15:3). Tradition, then, was at the very heart of the kerygma of the early Church, where the pastor-teacher, like the rabbi, was engaged in perpetuating what had been handed down to him.
In Christ’s challenge of “making disciples of all nations,” today’s pastor-teacher finds a demanding task. As a teacher, he must be more than a textbook wired for sound. He must be allowed to spend time in study so that he can effectively feed men the Word of the Spirit of God. It is of interest that Hehrew, which often paints word pictures, uses the same consonants to express the noun “ox goad” and the verb “learn” or “teach.”
My plea is not only to the pastor-teacher but to the Church as well. Could it be that many in the ministry today would have to answer no if ever asked in the world to come, “Did you have a set time for study?” Today’s pastor-teacher is trying to wear too many hats at once. Lay people sometimes fail to realize that it takes time to dig in and prepare adequately. Some seem to assume that by the “teaching ministry” of the Holy Spirit, a man of the cloth is virtually an omnicompetent, walking commentary on any of the thousands of verses in Holy Scripture. But facility in the Scriptures comes only through much time spent in thorough study. In many churches, a splendid array of trivia confronts the pastor in his study each morning, hindering his “set time.”
Another obstacle facing the pastor-teacher is lack of tools and resources for study. No church would think of hiring a sexton without providing him with proper tools. With no broom or snow shovel, a church custodian would soon be looking elsewhere for employment. Surely it would not strain church budgets to build into the pastor-teacher’s salary an annual $100 allowance for his library. The congregation would receive direct benefit in return.
A great unfulfilled wish of many ministers is for a continuation of their education. An effective teacher does more than simply recite time-tested facts; he needs a constant inflow of insights and ideas to keep him stimulated. Conferences and seminars on pastoral psychology, inner city problems, and the like are valuable for some ministers. Others would prefer an opportunity to take courses at nearby seminaries and universities. The answers provided for seminary students a decade ago are not adequate for the complex and changing questions of today’s pastorate.
Rabbis, pastors, and teachers—do you have a set time for study?
