Old Testament

A team of archaeologists with the Archaeological Studies Institute believes it has found a tablet dating back to 1400 BC. Institute Director, Scott Stripling, says the tablet pre-dates the commonly held belief about when the Bible was written by as much as 800 years. If true, this would dispel the theory that the Bible was written around 600 years after the occurrence of some of the first events it describes. This means that the events were written as a firsthand account rather than after the fact.

Stripling continued, “Some scholars believe in something called the ‘documentary hypothesis,’ which states that the Bible was composed hundreds of years apart in different sections, and then later redacted. The tablet is a problem for that theory and the idea that Moses could not have written the Pentateuch. ... This type of writing is more characteristic of the very beginning of the Late Bronze Era II horizon around 1400 B.C. For those who want to push the Exodus date way off into the future, this is really problematic for them.”

Houston Baptist University Professor, Craig Evans, said; “This tablet contains the oldest text that we know of so far. It also correlates with two passages in the book of Deuteronomy where it talks about going up on Mount Ebal, building an altar and cursing the enemies of Yahweh in Israel … The skepticism that nobody could write Hebrew that far back—is just an unwarranted skepticism."

The tablet has major religious and historical implications. If the peer review of Stripling’s discovery confirms his claims, it could dispel the liberal idea that the Old Testament was written in 600 BC.

There was no archaeological evidence for the existence of the biblical King David. That is, until 1993, when surveyor Gila Cook noticed a basalt stone inscription by an Aramaic-speaking king celebrating a military victory over “the House of David.”

To date, archaeological evidence has confirmed the historical existence of about 50 Old Testament figures, most of them kings. Archaeologists have also found records of a few other names, such as Balaam, which may or may not be the biblical prophet of the same name.

Biblical people named in the archaeological record:

Foreign kings: 26

Israelite kings: 8

Judean kings: 6

Israelite priests: 3

Israelite scribes: 1

Possible Preaching Angle:

Once again, archaeology confirms that the Bible record is true and accurate and it has a historical framework. “All your words are true” (Ps. 119:160).

In CT magazine, writer Dikkon Eberhart shares his personal testimony of progression from theological drifter to Orthodox Jew to a born-again experience with Jesus Christ:

I grew up in the Episcopal Church. But in my high teens and young twenties I drifted. At seminary in Berkeley, California, during the 1970s—I created my own religion. I called it Godianity. Certainly, I believed in the existence of God, hence the name of my religion. But I didn’t know much about that Son of God fellow, and the little I did know seemed impossibly weird.

Then something happened. I married a Jew who was an atheist. Then my wife became pregnant and nine months later, our first daughter squirmed in her mother’s arms. Here’s the sudden realization of an atheist: Such a perfect and beautiful creature must be the gift of God, not the product of some random swirl of atoms. My wife’s atheism bit the dust. Her new God belief was Jewish. My Godianity should have taken notice. “Listen up!” it ought to have heard. “You’re in trouble, too.”

That trouble came five years later. Our daughter and I were swinging in a hammock under a tree on a windy day. Normally an eager chatterer, our daughter fell silent and then said, “Daddy, I know there’s a God.” I was enchanted. “How, sweetie?” She pointed at the tree and its leaves. “You can’t see God. He’s like the wind. You can’t see the wind, but the wind makes the leaves move. You can’t see God, but you know he’s there, because he makes the people move, like the leaves.”

My heart swelled with love for this perceptive child, but then she crushed me. She continued, “Daddy, what do we believe?” Really, what she was asking was, “Mommy’s kind of Jewish. You’re kind of Christian. So what am I?” And despite my three advanced religious degrees and seminary employment, I couldn’t answer.

In that instant, I shucked my Godianity. Right away, my wife and I retreated into an urgent executive session. She was a Jew who was no longer an atheist. We resolved, we shall raise our children as Jews. And we did—as Reform Jews. Yet I still teetered on uneven ground, conscious of being an outsider. Then something else happened. During services on the eve of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, God spoke to me: “If you should desire to come to me, my door is open to you.” Right away, I knew I needed to become a Jew myself, and three years later my conversion was complete.

For some time, my wife and I had noticed something: While Reform Judaism respects Torah, many Reform Jews themselves were selective in their adherence to its strictures. But we objected. We wanted a faith that wasn’t in the habit of accommodating itself to the surrounding culture.

Across our rural road, there happened to be a small Baptist church. Some of our neighbors had invited us to visit, in case we Jews should ever want to know more about Christ. We realized that—oddly—these neighbors seemed concerned for our souls.

More than a year later, desperate for direction, I crossed the road to the church one Sunday morning. That day, the pastor was preaching from 1 Timothy. I was astonished to hear a Baptist preacher using Old Testament references within his message—and with accurate Hebrew nuance. The pastor and I began meeting each week and my wife frequented the women’s Bible study. She and I began devouring book after book, faster and faster, thrilled by each new discovery of seemingly impossible truths that were actually true.

Even as a Jew, I knew the Passion story. But it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, that story might be real—and if it were, then everything would need to change. Our Torah-based lives would be as dead and ineffectual as Godianity. Instead, we would give our souls to the personal love of the Incarnation, the God-man who dwelt among us. We realized that the Old Testament begged for the climax of the New Testament.

It took nine months, an appropriate duration for re-birth, before I committed myself to Jesus. My wife did the same three months later. Our younger two children followed soon thereafter. When God spoke to me in the synagogue all those years ago, inviting me through his open doorway, I had assumed he was summoning me into Judaism. Little did I know he was actually calling me to Christ.

In both 1929 and 2008, economic experts everywhere claimed to know exactly what they were doing, yet not a single person could fix the series of mistakes that crashed the world’s economy.

After these financial crises, many were rightfully furious--at the fraudulent bankers, who systematically destroyed the world economy for their own gain; at the Wall Street brokers who received bailouts and little to no jail time, while millions lost everything.

To avoid future financial catastrophes, a library in Edinburgh, Scotland has compiled a collection of sensible economic literature that aims to educate the next generation of economists. The Library of Mistakes contains over 2,000 books, all relating to economics and finance. Book titles sizzle with the message of it all; Crash of the Titans, The Crunch, Debt Shock, Too Big to Fail, and The Manipulators.

The Library of Mistakes was inspired by the 2008 Great Recession, which served as a perfect example of how, according to the library’s curators, “smart people keep doing stupid things.” The library’s curators argue that the only way to build a strong economy is to learn from our mistakes.

Ultimately, the Library of Mistakes encourages self-reflection and the serious study of history. In the wise words of George Santayana, “… for those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” And given the turbulent state of the world today, such advice could not be more timely.

Possible Preaching Angle:

God has written the historical sections of the Bible for this very reason--so that we would learn not to repeat the mistakes of others. The clear message is “don’t let this happen to you.” “Now these things happened to them as an example, but they were written down for our instruction, on whom the end of the ages has come” 1 Cor. 10:11).

Here's an example of how a Christian might use the Old Testament law as the basis for ethical reflection. In Deuteronomy 22:8, Moses instructs the people, "When you build a new house, make a parapet around your roof so that you may not bring the guilt of bloodshed on your house if someone falls from the roof." A parapet is an extension of the exterior wall above roof level, resulting in a solid protective wall for anyone standing on the roof.

In ancient Israel the typical home had a flat roof on which lots of living took place. Occupants might sleep on the roof during the summer months, worship there, separate grain from chaff, or socialize. The practical function of a parapet is obvious, given the architecture and lifestyle of the Israelites.

In North America, we typically do not hang out on the rooftops. Most homes do not have flat roofs, and the only occasions on which we climb our peaked roofs are to clean out the gutters (or eaves troughs, for my Canadian hearers), or to replace the shingles. In these cases a parapet would merely get in the way. However, the principle of God's instruction is clear: the safety of the family and visitors to the home is the responsibility of a homeowner. Modern-day equivalents might include railings for our staircases, covers for our electrical outlets (if we have small children), and bracing for furniture such as dressers or bookcases so that they do not tip over. We could even extend our application of this command to clearing snow from our sidewalks so that passersby do not slip and fall on the ice. The point is that as members of the covenant community, it is our duty to look out for the well-being of those around us.

All of Scripture speaks of Jesus. Once we read about him in the New Testament, we can never read the Old Testament the same way. Tremper Longman III explains in his book, How to Read Proverbs, how meeting the Messiah in the New Testament changes how we read the Old Testament.

Tremper illustrates this point using the popular 1999 movie The Sixth Sense. In this critically acclaimed work, Bruce Willis plays the lead character, a psychologist who is treating a young man being tormented by visions of the dead. Willis treats his patient with compassion, but he understands the visions to be hallucinatory. In the meantime, Willis is struggling with his own problems, including a growing distance between himself and his wife, ever since he was almost killed by an intruder.

As it unfolds, the story makes perfect sense to the audience, but it takes on a new meaning with the revelation at the end that Willis himself is dead. He wasn’t almost killed by the intruder; he was killed. His estrangement from his wife is not psychological; it is spiritual: She is alive and he is dead. This plot twist is a complete surprise, but once it comes, the audience cannot see the first part with the same understanding as they did previously.

Possible Preaching Angle: The way Christ fulfills the Old Testament changes how we understand Old Testament passages

Geoff Wood writes that a stained glass illustrates the importance of the Old Testament:

High over the portals within the south transept of the 800-year-old cathedral of Chartres in France spreads a great Rose window, forty feet in diameter. At its center sits Christ, while immediately around him orbit eight angels and symbols for the four evangelists, each enclosed within a circle of stained glass-and beyond them orbit the 24 elders of the book of Revelation, each also within its own bejeweled circle—for a total of 36 orbiting circles of blue, red, gold, purple, and white! Enough to make your head spin. Nor is that gigantic wheel of color the only thing to enchant you in that soaring wing of the cathedral, because below it rise five more long and narrow windows, the central one featuring Mary, while the other four show images of the evangelists, Luke and Matthew, John, and Mark-in that sequence.

Now if you look closely at the windows for the four gospel writers, you'll notice something amusing. All four, appearing almost boyish in size, sits on the shoulders of a tall prophet of the Old Testament: Luke on the shoulders of Jeremiah, Matthew on Isaiah's, John on Ezekiel's, and Mark on Daniel's. The four major voices of the New Testament ride piggyback on the four major voices of the Old—just the way a dad might lift a small child on his shoulders. Why would those artists do something as playful as that? Well, it wasn't playful. They wanted to make a serious point, namely that the gospels build on the wisdom and vision of the Old Testament.

Families and children around the world have grown to love a special retelling of the biblical storyline from The Jesus Storybook Bible written by Sally Lloyd-Jones. In her introduction to the big story of the Bible, Jones writes:

There are lots of stories in the Bible, but all the stories are telling one Big Story. The Story of how God loves his children and comes to rescue them. It takes the whole Bible to tell this Story. And at the center of the Story there is a baby. Every story in the Bible whispers his name. He is like the missing piece in a puzzle—the piece that makes all the other pieces fit together, and suddenly, you can see a beautiful picture.

As a young Christian, pastor and author Tim Keller said, "I found the Old Testament to be a confusing and off-putting part of the Bible." But while he was at a study center someone asked the great Bible scholar Alex Motyer a question about the seeming disjointedness between the Old Testament and the New Testament. Keller writes:

I will always remember his answer … [Dr. Motyer] insisted that we were all one people of God. Then he asked us to imagine how the Israelites under Moses would have given their "testimony" to someone who asked for it. They would have said something like this:

We were in a foreign land, in bondage, under the sentence of death. But our mediator—the one who stands between us and God—came to us with the promise of deliverance. We trusted in the promises of God, took shelter under the blood of the lamb, and he led us out. Now we are on the way to the Promised Land. We are not there yet, of course, but we have the law to guide us, and through blood sacrifice we also have his presence in our midst. So he will stay with us until we get to our true country, our everlasting home.
Then Dr. Motyer concluded: "Now think about it. A Christian today could say the same thing, almost word for word."

My young self was thunderstruck. I had held the vague, unexamined impression that in the Old Testament people were saved through obeying a host of detailed laws but that today we were freely forgiven and accepted by faith. This little thought experiment showed me, in a stroke, not only that the Israelites had been saved by grace and that God's salvation had been by costly atonement and grace all along, but also that the pursuit of holiness, pilgrimage, obedience, and deep community should characterize Christians as well.

The power of story is getting unlikely attention. In a fascinating collaboration, literary scholars and neuroscientists have teamed up to explore the impact that stories have on the human brain.

A Wall Street Journal article by Allison Gopnik entitled "Want a Mind Meld? Tell a Compelling Story," described a variety of brain scan studies that show that stories not only shape one's thoughts, but also foster a connection between a storyteller and listener. The closer the connection, the greater the understanding of the story. Gopnik concluded that "results suggest that we lowly humans are actually as good at mind-melding as [Star Trek's] Vulcans or the Borg. We just do it with stories." Other experiments have looked at how stories help develop neural pathways, and affect our relationships by altering how we order and understand information.

Possible Preaching Angles: The best story of all, the story that we need to hear above any other story, is the good news about Jesus Christ.

When a place has been besieged for years and hunger stalks the streets, you might think that people would have little interest in books. But enthusiasts have stocked an underground library in Syria with volumes rescued from bombed buildings—as users dodge shells and bullets to reach it. Buried beneath a bomb-damaged building, is a home to a secret library that provides learning, hope, and inspiration to many in the besieged Damascus suburb of Darayya. As one user says, "We saw that it was vital to create a new library so that we could continue our education."

Since the war, volunteers—many of them also former students whose studies were brought to a halt by the war—have collected more than 14,000 books on just about every subject imaginable. "In many cases we get books from … near the front line, so collecting them is very dangerous," says one of the collectors.

The idea of people risking life and limb to collect books for a library seems bizarre. But volunteers at the hospital use the books to advise them on how to treat patients, untrained teachers use them to help prepare classes, and aspiring dentists raid the shelves for advice on doing fillings and extracting teeth.

But in a besieged town wouldn't it make more sense for them to spend their time looking for food rather than books? One of the library users said, "In a sense the library gave me back my life. I would say that just like the body needs food, the soul needs books. Books motivate us to keep on going. We want to be a free nation. And hopefully, by reading, we can achieve this."

Possible Preaching Angles: Word of God; Bible; Do we as Christians hunger and thirst for God's Word like these endangered Syrians hunger for knowledge? Would we risk our lives to own and read the Bible in order to find hope and meaning for life?