Author: WestonBlaha

Christ’s Eschatological Work Against Tohu Wabohu
The typological connections between Christ and Adam have been well-observed and well-documented. Between G.K. Beale, Meredith Kline, N.T. Wright, and John Walton, the depths of the vast network of Jesus’ faithful Adamic administration have been plumbed. However, there appears to be one area in which Christ’s eschatological work seems not to be given the theological attention it deserves: Christ’s specific task of solving the problem of Tohu Wabohu.

Tohu Wabohu are two Hebrew words that mean “formless” and “empty/void.” We see them appear in Genesis 1:1-2, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep.” In the following creation narrative, YHWH will begin to form and fill his creation. On creation days 1-3, God forms the spaces (1–light/darkness, 2–sky/water, 3–land/vegetation). On days 4-6, God fills the spaces with inhabitants (4–sun/moon/stars, 5–birds/fish, 6–animals/humans). In doing so, God brings order out of chaos and prepares the world to reflect his glory.

However, on day 6, God does something different: he delegates the filling to Adam. In Genesis 1:27-28 we read, “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them. And God blessed them. And God said to them, ‘Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.’” Adam and Eve were, in part, tasked with filling what is still Wabohu—empty. Adam, as God’s vice-regent, was to extend God’s order by filling the world with image-bearers who would reflect God’s glory. However, Adam failed—sin entered, bringing disorder (Tohu Wabohu) back into creation through death and corruption. Redemptive history would see Adam-like figures arising and trying to restore the pre-fall cosmic order—but never ultimately succeeding. Until, as Paul calls him, the Last Adam arrives (1 Corinthians 15:45).

Just as Adam was to fill the earth with physical offspring, Jesus fills the new creation with spiritual offspring—His redeemed people. In John 14:1-2 Jesus tells his disciples, “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?” As Jesus prepares to face the cross and redeem the cosmos from chaos, he echoes God’s forming of the original creation. Jesus, as the divine Son, is shaping the “new heavens and new earth” where His people will dwell.

After the resurrection, Jesus speaks to his disciples again, giving them a new mandate, “Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations” (Matthew 28:19). This mandate not only sees God’s glory extended throughout the fallen, physical realm but has eternal, spiritual implications. All disciples of Jesus will fill the heavenly place Jesus has prepared for them. The command for disciple-making is both a present and an eschatological fulfillment of the Adamic mandate to fill the earth.

At the end of history, Revelation 21:1-3 shows the completed work—New Jerusalem descends, and God’s dwelling is with man: “Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God.” Jesus, the Last Adam, has not only formed the eternal kingdom but has also filled it with His people.

Adam’s charge was to bring continued glory to God’s formed world by filling it with image-bearers, but he failed. Jesus, the Last Adam, does not only fulfill the mandate perfectly, but he does something greater in redeeming fallen creation by:
1. Preparing the eternal dwelling (forming the space).
2. Filling it with His redeemed people (spiritual multiplication).
Thus, Christ completes Adam’s mission more significantly, eternally, bringing the ultimate order out of Tohu Wabohu—a kingdom that will never be empty or formless again. However, Christ is not merely finishing Adam’s work but is achieving something radically greater—reconciling sinners to God through His atoning sacrifice and sovereign grace.

Application of Christ’s Eschatological Day 6 Work
The fact that Jesus completes the Tohu Wabohu (formless and void) pattern of Genesis has profound implications for the Christian life. If Jesus is the Last Adam who forms and fills the new creation, believers are called to participate in that work. Here is how this truth impacts Christian life and mission:
1. A New Creation Identity: From Chaos to Order
  Before salvation, our lives mirror the Tohu Wabohu—formless, void, and filled with sin and disorder. However, “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation” (2 Cor. 5:17). Jesus does for us personally what God did in Genesis—He forms a new identity in us and fills us with His Spirit. This means:
- We are no longer spiritually dead but filled with the life-giving presence of God.
- Our lives are being reordered according to Christ’s image (Rom. 8:29).
Implication: The Christian life is about allowing Christ to shape and fill us daily, submitting to His transformative work.
1. Participation in the Great Commission: Filling the New Creation
  Just as Adam’s calling was to “be fruitful and multiply,” and Jesus commissioned His disciples to “make disciples of all nations” (Matt. 28:19), Christians are now part of this filling process.
- Evangelism: Sharing the gospel brings people from spiritual Tohu Wabohu (chaos) into God’s kingdom and cosmic order.
- Discipleship: Helping others grow in faith is part of God’s filling work.
- Church Planting & Missions: Expanding God’s kingdom mirrors Adam’s original call to extend Eden.
Implication: Every believer is involved in God’s mission—whether locally or globally—by bringing people into His new creation.
1. Hope in Christ’s Ultimate Completion
  Jesus is preparing a place (John 14:2) and filling it with His people. This gives us hope in suffering because we know the story ends with a fully formed and filled creation in the New Heavens and New Earth (Rev. 21:1-3), and the promise: “Behold, I am making all things new” (Rev. 21:5). Thus:
- We endure hardship knowing chaos will not last.
- We labor for the kingdom, knowing our work contributes to eternal restoration.
Implication: Christians live confidently, knowing God’s ultimate goal is not destruction but renewal.
1. Holiness: Being a Dwelling Place of God
  Since Jesus is forming and filling His people, we must live in a way that reflects His new creation work. Paul says,” Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?” (1 Cor. 3:16). As such:
- The Spirit fills us just as God filled creation with life.
- We must not return to Tohu Wabohu by living in sin (Eph. 5:18).
- Our bodies, actions, and thoughts should reflect Christ’s order and holiness.
Implication: Christians are called to live as Spirit-filled temples, reflecting God’s order in their daily lives.

Final Thought: Living as Builders in God’s New World
Since Jesus is both forming and filling the new creation, we are co-workers with Him (1 Cor. 3:9). This means:
- Every act of faithfulness—parenting, teaching, serving, working—participates in Christ’s filling work.
- Our labor is not in vain because it contributes to God’s eternal purposes (1 Cor. 15:58).
Jesus’ completion of Tohu Wabohu is not just theological it is practical—it shapes our mission, identity, and hope as Christians. His eschatological day 6 work of multiplication and fulfillment of the full Adamic mandate should encourage the Christian and motivate the individual Christian’s role in the Great Commission—may we help fill the new heavens and new earth!
March 24, 2025
Go, And Be Fed
It is often said of pastors that “a shepherd must know his sheep.” And this is very true. But therein lies a warning to the sheep: the sheep must know the shepherd’s voice. If pastors are to know their flock, what responsibility does the flock have to know the pastor’s voice? How can Peter feed sheep that won’t be fed? How can pastors similarly feed a flock that will not come to the dinner bell? The imagery of sheep and shepherd shows that both have responsibilities in the relationship. It is the shepherd’s responsibility to feed, and it is the sheep’s duty to come and be fed.

Unhealthy Diets

Do we see the gathering of the saints as our duty to come and be fed? As our responsibility? Or is it simply the pastor’s duty to preach while we seek food–maybe even tastier food!–elsewhere? Whether that be through:
1. Online pastors who can’t personally know you (this disrupts shepherds knowing their sheep)
2. On a deer stand (this interferes with your coming to be fed)
3. Or at your house (this says that you are too tired and lazy to be bothered to be fed)
Veggie Tales

Remember vegetables? Remember being a child and crying at the table because you couldn’t leave until you ate them? That was me. But a few years back, I realized that I actually now like vegetables. My taste had matured, and my appetite had changed.

Often, immature Christianity manifests itself as rejecting what is good for us: like a healthy diet of the Means of Grace (Prayer, Preaching, and the Sacraments). Mature Christianity is growing to love the Means of Grace that God has established to feed his sheep.

Friends, we don’t go to church because we have to; we go to church because we get to; we gather because it provides just the diet the Great Shepherd calls his sheep to feast upon.

This Sunday, go and be fed.
March 3, 2025
How We Raise Children to Break

One of the most fundamental aspects of the Christian experience is suffering. That may sound like an odd thing to say, but it isn’t. The Bible frequently attests to the role of suffering in the life of the Christian:

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.” –John 16:33

“Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.” –2 Timothy 3:12

“Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.” –Matthew 16:24

There are many verses saying similar things. The message is clear: Christian, you will suffer. But do we, though? Do you think of your life as one of suffering? In our American, Christian-neutral culture, do we indeed suffer?

Admittedly, there are different causes for suffering. There is persecution, where you suffer for your faith. There’s physical suffering, where you endure personal ailments, injuries, and calamities. But there is a third type of suffering as well: the kind of suffering that accompanies grief. This is suffering in which life just doesn’t go our way. Your company closes its doors without warning, and you are left unemployed. A family member has an untimely death. A move requires new schools, churches, and friend groups. A despicable sin may be uncovered in someone you admire and esteem. These things cause deep grief with significant consequences. This type of grief, above all else, tends to cause what is termed “a crisis of faith.”

A crisis of faith is when external influences cause a Christian to ask deep and significant questions. These questions often begin the process known as “deconstruction.” Ian Harber defines deconstruction as a “crisis of faith that leads to the questions of core doctrines and untangling of cultural ideologies that settles in a faith that is different from before.”

Suffering, the kind that causes deep grief and emotional hurt, can be a catalyst for sending a Christian into a crisis of faith—then down the road to deconstruction. And if we have fragile children who do not understand suffering, we are priming them to break when that crisis of faith appears.

The goal of this post is not to address all forms of deconstruction/reconstruction but rather to shed light on how well-meaning Christian parents often over-shelter their children so that they lack the biblical framework and skills to handle adversity.

The Christian Coddle

When you consider the cultural landscape in America, there is little suffering compared to the rest of the world. We have unparalleled medical care. There are no wars at our borders nor raiding tribes that plunder towns and kidnap our children. Pirates do not hijack luxury yachts on our coastline. We have clean drinking water and plenty of food. Compared to much of the world, we do not suffer at the same level as most.

As such, our context for suffering is different. On the whole, the scale is less extreme. Suffering in America is often manageable or even preventable—we are nothing if not a country with expendable resources. So, parents in America have this remarkable and globally unique ability to remove their children from the grief of much suffering. This is a blessing! But it can also have unintended consequences.

We see it in small ways. With enough sponsorship, your child will find a select team to play on (even if you start and fund the entire team yourself!). We can afford tutors and personal trainers. Many teens do not need summer jobs because both parents work. We can move to get our kids into different schools or afford tuition for a private school. In other words, we have options. But the danger with options is that we are often never forced to develop the grit and determination that suffering demands, that adversity requires. Without the muscle tearing, it cannot become stronger.

In Plain Terms
Christian parents: your children need to endure suffering with you by their side. They need to endure disappointment and loss so that their “faith muscles” have been torn and can grow. Suffering is a means of grace—it releases the control we thought we had over life. When we fail to allow our children to endure suffering and learn how to have hope amidst pain, we are ensuring that they will be ready to shatter when that first real crisis of faith occurs without you.

What this doesn’t mean:
It doesn’t mean that you allow your child to have the weight of the world heaped upon their shoulders or that you open their eyes to the deepest, darkest atrocities that this world offers. We are to guard their hearts.

What this does mean:
It does mean, however, that you don’t insulate their world so much that adversity never arises. We cannot shield them from the reality of death and mankind’s fallen nature. Our children need to know that, in Christ, there is hope amidst even the worst pain.

Ian Harber summarizes this well: “There are two ways suffering can change you. The first is by breaking you down, leaving you afraid, paranoid, and void of hope. The other is by breaking you open, leaving you with a wider heart, and expanding your capacity to love.”

Parents, our children need to encounter suffering with you by their side, with you walking them through it, pointing them all along the way to the hope we have in Christ. To do anything less, to coddle them until college, is not only a disservice to them but also a danger to their soul.

To use a workout analogy: Someday, the suffering of this world will test the strength of your child’s faith. Have you allowed them to do the reps to build up the muscle to endure it, or have you done the work for them?

February 10, 2025
Understanding Joshua 1: Courage and Obedience

7 Only be strong and very courageous, being careful to do according to all the law that Moses my servant commanded you. Do not turn from it to the right hand or to the left, that you may have good success wherever you go. 8 This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success.

I’ve heard this passage preached more than you might guess. It is a common slogan, encouraging verse, and a call to bravery. Joshua’s call to courage is a common text used by youth conference speakers who are hoping to instill confidence to a room full of confidence-averse teenagers. And that is helpful as far as it goes. But the mistake is made when the application of this passage focuses on perseverance of action rather than steadfastness of thought.
Don’t fear your upcoming football game—be strong and courageous.
Be confident as you take your exams—be strong and courageous.
Don’t be ashamed that people know that you are a Christian—be strong and courageous.
What tends to happen is that Joshua 1:6-7 becomes the Old Testament version of Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” And while there may be nothing egregiously “wrong” with these applications, they fall short of driving to the heart of the text. Sometimes, (maybe even often!), our best intentions get in the way of dependable application. So, let’s briefly revisit this text and see what it communicates about courage.

The Recipient

The recipient of these verses isn’t Israel, its Joshua. Joshua was the man chosen by YHWH to follow in Moses’ footsteps. Can you imagine? I was once given a piece of wisdom from a friend, “Never follow a legend at a job.” We see this concept the clearest in the sports arena. What are the chances you will prove your worth if you follow Nick Saban at Alabama? Or Phil Jackson in Chicago or LA? Even if you manage to win a championship, at best you are simply as good as the last guy. You’ve reached the expectations–there is often nowhere to go but down. But here is Joshua, following the legend. You can imagine how he must have felt. Joshua’s emotions must have been all over the place. Remember, this isn’t something as trivial as a sports championship—in view is the life or death of a nation and Joshua is to lead the way.

The Message

The message to Joshua is clear: be strong and courageous. But this is where we tend to drift from the meaning of the text. The charge and encouragement isn’t “be strong and courageous in conquest” the charge is “be strong and courageous to do all the Torah that Moses my servant commanded you.” In other words, victory in conquest isn’t based upon courage in warfare, but courage to obey the Torah, the law.

Do you see the subtle but important shift from how we normally understand this passage? Its not about passing the test, landing the job, winning the game, or even winning a war—even faithful Christians will often fail at all of these things. The message to Joshua is that having courage and strength isn’t about the conquest—its about obeying the Torah in the midst of the conquest. Its about what the conquest will cause you to think and do; its about how the conquest will tempt you. You see, what takes courage and strength isn’t the war, rather, its about obedience to God while fighting in the war.

Application

With these things in view, the application of Joshua 1:7-8 begins to take shape. The charge to Joshua is less about the war and more about how he reacts to the war. Strength and courage are judged upon obedience to God’s law, not the trials set before us. Strength and courage are not about conquest but obedience—if we get that backwards then life can become very confusing.

Friends, the call for the Church is to recognize that sometimes Christians rule nations and sometimes we are food for lions. Regardless of the result, the paths are faced the same way: strength and courage to obey all of God’s commands.

December 24, 2024
Moses, the God of Israel?
¹⁰Then Moses and Aaron gathered the assembly together before the rock, and he said to them, “Hear now, you rebels: shall we bring water for you out of this rock?” ¹¹And Moses lifted up his hand and struck the rock with his staff twice, and water came out abundantly, and the congregation drank, and their livestock. ¹²And the Lord said to Moses and Aaron, “Because you did not believe in me, to uphold me as holy in the eyes of the people of Israel, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land that I have given them.” ¹³These are the waters of Meribah, where the people of Israel quarreled with the Lord, and through them he showed himself holy. (Nu 20:10-13)

I have often struggled with how to understand this passage. It is commonly interpreted by stating something along the lines of “YHWH demands to be kept holy, and Moses and Aaron (who knew this better than anyone) fell short. Their punishment was to die with the rebellious wilderness generation, never to enter the Promised Land.” There tends to be a focus on striking the rock instead of speaking to it, and discussions about whether striking the rock twice represented misplaced anger, a physical action when verbal was commanded, or something else. While I don’t believe these to be irrelevant issues, they do seem a bit petty, don’t they? They feel a little thin–a little lacking, a little bit of an abbreviated answer to a difficult dilemma, a leap from step A to step D. Striking a rock equals denial of entrance to the Promised Land? I’ve always had trouble connecting those dots. As my high school calculus teacher might have said: “I need to see some work here.” So, let’s show a little of the work.

A Little About Moses

Moses was faithful, let’s not forget that. Moses was faithful when no one else was–he opposed Pharaoh, interceded for a stiff-necked people, and often, stood alone in the gap for Israel. At one point, YHWH was willing to wipe out Israel and re-establish the chosen line with Moses and his seed (Ex. 32:11-14)—for someone so faithful, how does one failure deny him his most desired of experiences—entering the Promised Land? It doesn’t feel as if the punishment at Meribah fits the crime, nor does it feel as if we see a similar punishment to so faithful a servant anywhere else in Scripture.

Two events in particular, this one in Numbers and the death of Moses in Deuteronomy, have been on my mind recently—probably due to a combination of studying in Deuteronomy, interest in the Old Testament, and a general love of Biblical Theology. And I have come to—I believe—a richer understanding of Moses’ sin and why YHWH punished him the way he did.

From Mediator to Provider

Moses states in verse 10, “Hear now, you rebels: shall we bring water for you out of this rock?” Of course, Moses could not bring water out of a rock—he knew that–but YHWH could and did, despite Moses’ arrogance. It is not Moses nor Aaron who had the authority or ability to achieve such a miracle. Thus, I argue that Moses’ sin was primarily one of idolatry–of elevating his self from mediator to provider. By asking if they (“we”) should bring forth water, Moses and Aaron elevated themselves from the roles of mediators between YHWH and Israel to providers for Israel. This is, in purest form, idolatry: establishing themselves as a source of provision for Israel. And while the people may have missed the subtle shift, YHWH, of course, recognizes the comment for what it was, and states that they failed to “uphold me as holy in the eyes of the people of Israel, therefore you shall not bring this assembly into the land that I have given them” (Num 20:12). YHWH was not upheld as holy (sacred)—Moses and Aaron elevated themselves in the eyes of Israel, categorizing themselves as providers and, in doing so, violated the 1st Commandment.

The Bigger Picture

That is the narrow view of the scene—Moses who was “like a god” before Pharaoh (Ex. 7:1)—made the mistake of elevating himself “like a god” before Israel. So, now, let’s “show our work” and see how this understanding of Moses’ sin connects the dots to the end of the Moses narrative. Look at Deuteronomy 3:23-28:

²³“And I pleaded with the Lord at that time, saying, ²⁴‘O Lord God, you have only begun to show your servant your greatness and your mighty hand. For what god is there in heaven or on earth who can do such works and mighty acts as yours? ²⁵Please let me go over and see the good land beyond the Jordan, that good hill country and Lebanon.’ ²⁶But the Lord was angry with me because of you and would not listen to me. And the Lord said to me, ‘Enough from you; do not speak to me of this matter again. ²⁷Go up to the top of Pisgah and lift up your eyes westward and northward and southward and eastward, and look at it with your eyes, for you shall not go over this Jordan. ²⁸But charge Joshua, and encourage and strengthen him, for he shall go over at the head of this people, and he shall put them in possession of the land that you shall see.’

As Moses stands on the edge of the Promised Land, he is recounting to the people how he asked YHWH one more time to be able to enter the land, and the answer was a definitive “no.” Why was YHWH so firm and unrelenting in this punishment when he has been so forgiving and long-suffering with so many others? Had not Moses faithfully served after the events in Numbers 20, earning the blessing to die in the Promised Land? For some, this helps fuel the narrative that the God of the Old Testament is harsh and overly demanding. But I believe the bigger picture must include the nature of Moses’ sin at Meribah: idolatry.

Moses and Aaron had elevated themselves to the status of gods before the people— “Must WE make water come from this rock?” On the edge of conquest, Israel is being sent into the land of promise with instructions to eliminate any and every form of idolatry in the land. This land was to be a holy land—a dwelling place for YHWH. It was sacramental: it was a means through which the presence of YHWH would abide with his chosen people, and as such, it was to be pure; purified upon entry, and kept pure of competing idols entering in. Moses, through his actions at Meribah, had elevated himself to a god-like status before the people—he was the one doing mighty wonders before their eyes. His sin had caused irreparable damage because Israel now saw him as a god.

This may feel a little harsh or somewhat of an overstatement: surely not? A god? But, in Deuteronomy 4, Moses begins an exhortation to Israel, based upon his theological narrative re-telling the story of Israel’s history from Horeb (Sinai) to their second approach to the Promised Land. One of Moses’ major concerns was that Israel abstain from all forms of idolatry. Deuteronomy 4:15-31 are dedicated to warnings against idolatry. And right in the center of this section, we read:

Furthermore, the LORD was angry with me because of you, and he swore that I should not cross the Jordan, and that I should not enter the good land that the LORD your God is giving you for an inheritance. 22 For I must die in this land; I must not go over the Jordan. But you shall go over and take possession of that good land. 23 Take care, lest you forget the covenant of the LORD your God, which he made with you, and make a carved image, the form of anything that the LORD your God has forbidden you. 24 For the LORD your God is a consuming fire, a jealous God.¹

Moses places his sin, the event that barred him from the Promised Land squarely in a passage warning against idolatry. We should not miss this: Moses never worshipped another god. Moses only worshipped YHWH unless, in a moment of anger and weakness, Moses’ pride allowed himself to elevate himself to god-like status before Israel. The placement of this event certainly adds credence to my argument.

Add to this, the concern that YHWH took for Moses’ body. Look with me at Deuteronomy 34:1-6:

Then Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, which is opposite Jericho. And the Lord showed him all the land, Gilead as far as Dan, 2 all Naphtali, the land of Ephraim and Manasseh, all the land of Judah as far as the western sea, 3 the Negeb, and the Plain, that is, the Valley of Jericho the city of palm trees, as far as Zoar. 4 And the Lord said to him, “This is the land of which I swore to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, ‘I will give it to your offspring.’ I have let you see it with your eyes, but you shall not go over there.” 5 So Moses the servant of the Lord died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the Lord, 6 and he buried him in the valley in the land of Moab opposite Beth-peor; but no one knows the place of his burial to this day.

Also, consider a non-canonical Hebrew tradition that comes from a document called “The Assumption of Moses.” Here, Joshua is speaking after realizing that Moses will not lead the people into the Promised Land:

5. And now what place will receive thee? 6. Or what will be the sign that marks (thy) sepulchre? 7. Or who will dare to move thy body from thence as a man from place to place? 8. For all men when they die have according to their age their sepulchres on earth; but thy sepulchre is from the rising to the setting sun, and from the south to the confines of the north: all the world is thy sepulchre. 9. My lord, thou art departing, and who will feed this people? 10. Or who is there that will have compassion on them and who will be their guide by the way? 11. Or who will pray for them, not omitting a single day, in order that I may lead them into the land of (their) forefathers? 12. How therefore am I to control this people as a father (his) only son, or as a mistress (her) virgin daughter, who is being pre- pared to be handed over to the husband she will revere, while she guards her person from the sun and (takes care) that her feet are not unshod for running upon the ground. 13. And how shall I supply them with food and drink according to the pleasure of their will? 14. For of them there will be 600,000 men, for these have multiplied to this degree through thy prayers, (my) lord Moses.^[1]

In Deuteronomy 34:1-6, the specific burial place of Moses would be left mystery. According to the Assumption of Moses, the words placed in the mouth of Joshua convey a people who see no way forward without Moses. Dennis Olsen also sees this god-image in Moses, “Did Moses have to die outside the land as a reminder that he himself was not a god, an object of worship for the people? Moses’ death shifts Israel’s allegiance from a human like Moses to Yahweh, the true God of Israel.” These observations may not solidify the argument that Moses was seen as holding god-like status, but they definitely help us see how essential he was in the eyes of Israelite tradition, potentially becoming a crutch against Israel’s ability to fully depend on YHWH. Israel needed to trust YHWH without Moses—it was part of their development as a people of the Lord.

With these things in mind, there is a good case to be made that the reason the body of Moses was unable to be found—the reason YHWH buried Moses in an unknown, unmarked location—was because Israel would worship him at his burial site. In other words, his grave would be seen as a talisman of sorts. We know the locations of the other patriarchs, even some of their wives. Moses is a significant figure to leave out. Later, Israel will worship the bronze serpent once raised up in the wilderness (2 Kings 18:4), all of Israel will whore after the ephod of Gideon (Judges 8), and let’s not forget the golden calf in Israel’s recent past (Exodus 32). As noted, it seems that Moses himself even alludes to the danger of his grave (or anything else) becoming a site of idolatry in Deuteronomy 4:22-24.

Putting it all together.

In putting it all together, here is what we can see:
1. Moses elevated himself from mediator to provider, establishing himself as a god in the eyes of Israel. This was his sin of not upholding YHWH as holy: idolatry.
2. The Promised Land was to be a land pure of idolatry—no idols could remain, and none could enter in. Thus, Moses must remain outside the Promised Land as a result of his self-disqualifying sin.
3. In YHWH’s mercy, he allowed Moses to look into the land, but held firm to his judgment.
4. YHWH then takes Moses’ life and buries him in an unknown location so that his body might not become a place of idolatry for Israel.
In summary, the sin of Moses was that he set himself up as a competitor with YHWH, directly violating the 1st Commandment: “You shall have no other gods before me.” And while this may not have been the intent, it was the reality—Israel had come to see Moses as a god, and Moses himself reinforced that perception at Meribah. Some sins have life-long and disqualifying repercussions—this was the case for Moses.

Epilogue

But we are left with the question: does this make YHWH harsh? How has this perspective changed our view of YHWH or has it? Many have been forgiven for what seems like much worse transgressions—after all, wouldn’t David’s son Solomon (the result of David’s his marriage to Bathsheba) rule Israel? Let’s consider an intriguing (yet unproveable) idea:

The Scriptures state that Moses died while still strong and able:

⁵So Moses the servant of the Lord died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the Lord, ⁶and he buried him in the valley in the land of Moab opposite Beth-peor; but no one knows the place of his burial to this day. ⁷Moses was 120 years old when he died. His eye was undimmed, and his vigor unabated. (Dt. 34:5-8)

Moses was clearly not a man on his deathbed. Why would YHWH “put him down” with so much vigor and youth still in his bones? Add to this that there are two and a half tribes remaining outside the Promised Land—Reuben, Gad, and half of Manasseh (Num. 33)—why couldn’t Moses have lived out the remainder of his life with them—close to the Promised Land, but not in it?

If you consider the life of Moses, he really had two significant requests of YHWH. The first was to see the face of YHWH (Ex. 33:18-23), but the request was denied, “But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live” (Ex. 33:20). The second request was to enter the Promised Land, and as we’ve seen, Moses disqualified himself from that possibility. But I believe that YHWH, in denying Moses the second request, gave Moses his first request: seeing the face of YHWH. I believe Moses died on the mountain because YHWH revealed his face to him out of sight of the people. Of course, as YHWH has already said, no man can live after seeing YHWH in his unveiled glory.

And this becomes a beautiful end to the story of Moses: a sinful man longing to see God’s glory, to honor him, and to see others honor him. Of course, he falls short—we all do—and in a period of weakness, he fails to uphold God as holy, and misses out on seeing the fruit of his life’s work. His public sin disqualifies him. But YHWH is a merciful God who rewards his faithful servants—and while he must remain just, he offers Moses the first desire of his heart: to see the face of YHWH. So ends his life, so ends his work. Now, Israel must wait for another (Deuteronomy 18:15), who will be God himself, who can be both mediator AND provider, who will lead his people to the Promised Land where there will be no idolatry; who is worthy to be worshipped—but not worshipped at his grave, for he would overcome such a state—but in heaven after he defeats death. Israel must wait for Jesus Christ, the greater Moses, the only true and worthy god-man.

^[1] The Assumption of Moses, XI.5-14. Translated by R. H. Charles (London: Adam and Charles Black, 1897)

^[2] I am grateful to my friend Logan Mattox for adding another thought to this: “Israel really hadn’t trusted YHWH up to that point but had trusted Moses.”
1. Deuteronomy 4:15-31 (ESV) ↩︎
August 14, 2024
From Servants and Citizens to Sonship

“Sometimes, I allow myself to simply sit in silence.” That is a sentence you will rarely if ever hear me say, and my wife will strongly attest to that. However, this week when driving back from our EPC General Assembly, I finished an audio-book, couldn’t find one something else interesting, and just sat in silence for a while. And it is often in those moments that my brain becomes creative. Allow me to share something that I am still processing through, but occurred to me regarding the Parable of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:11-32).

We all know the parable well: the younger son demands his inheritance, squanders it on worldly pleasures, and then—after hitting rock bottom—returns to his father, hoping to be admitted as a servant. But upon arrival, his father embraces him, clothes him, and celebrates with the fattened calf. The mercy and forgiveness demonstrated here is unimaginable. But the older son, the one who remained and worked faithfully for his father, is upset—how could the father celebrate such a squandering failure of a son? When confronted with this, the father responds, “‘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.’”

Most commentators recognize three distinct figures in this parable. The first is the father, who represents God the Father, who forgives and redeems. The second is the older son, who represents the Jews/Pharisees, or perhaps the faithful Christians, who have remained with the Father, but cannot find joy when a sinner repents. The third is the prodigal, the one who squandered everything, representing either the Gentiles or a rebellious Christian, and comes to his senses. But these three figures are actually not the focus of this article—instead, I am thinking about the other two groups of people mentioned in the parable—have you ever noticed them?

The Servants
The first group I want to point out are the servants—these are the ones who prepare the feast, the ones whom the prodigal thought he could join upon his return. These servants might represent the angelic hosts—the servants of the Most High celebrating when a sinner is saved (Luke 15:7). This would certainly make sense. But I want to suggest that they might represent another group of people: the visible church. The visible church is all of those that are outwardly part of the Christian faith, but not so inwardly—they haven’t truly been adopted as sons, though they are present at all the family reunions. In this parable you have these servants hanging around, helping out, serving, claiming the Father as their master—but not the title of sons.

Now consider the prodigal son: hoping to return as one of these servants. Friends, how many people do we know who have been steeped in sin—at their breaking point, wallowing in misery—look to the church as something that they are unqualified to embrace yet deeply knowing they need it? Thinking that their sin is too great for adoption into the family of God, too awful ever be truly forgiven. or, maybe they simply aren’t convinced that this family isn’t that special, not not sure it’s worth digging in deeper. Either way, this group finds themsleves on the outsides of church life—they may show up, they may watch online, but the idea of God’s mercy being enough to cover their sins is more than they could hope for, or maybe simply uneccesary. This community, this fellowship isn’t for them in its fullness.

We all have these people in our churches. We all have members of the visible church, serving alongside us as times, participating in the party at times, but not yet adopted as sons. When a prodigal son returns to your flock, to your church body, how often do we approach those yet to be adopted, those yet to embrace God’s mercy, those struggling to see the full value of this family, and show them that Jesus’ blood is good enough, rich enough, worth enough to move them from outside the family to sonship and inheritance in Christ, just like that prodigal? That’s the first neglected group in the parable.

The World
The second group neglected in this parable is the “citizen” mentioned in verse 15. This is the man for whom the prodigal agreed to work when his wealth was depleted. He represents, I suggest, the world. Consider this: when a prodigal returns to the faith, why does the world he left think? What does the world think he left behind or sacrificed in the process? Does the world think he’s groveling back to be a slave, or that he is being embraced in the goodness of the Father? I guess the question is: Are we using this as an opportunity to go into the vacancy he left and tell the story of how the prodigal was restored beyond his wildest imagination by the great mercy of the Father? Do we tell them that the Father has robes, rings, and fattened calves for them too, if only they would abandon the filth in which they wallow?

You see, we typically focus on the main characters, as we rightly should: the Father, the older son, and the prodigal son. But I think we sell ourselves (and the story) short if we stop there. Friends, if we miss the opportunity to lead the visible church into the invisible church (sonship), and we forgo the chance to bring the world to the Father, we have neglected to use a tremendously powerful example of the Gospel of Jesus–we’ve failed to apply the testimony of God’s goodness to their prospective spheres.

Here’s the challenge: Let the prodigal son’s return be a tool with which we call servants and citizens to the Father, and to sonship through Jesus Christ.

June 24, 2024
Consistency?

I was texting a good friend last night—we were discussing politics, sports, and sending goofy memes to each other (“mee-mee’s” as I heard one person call them). Whether it be sports, politics, inflation, or just life in general, we both came to the same conclusion: all we ask for in life is consistency—consistency in how we apply the law, how we apply logic, how we apply trust—consistency in how we apply our values to each other. In short, we were both expressing desires for a stable environment in which to be left alone and left to thrive. But, that’s a fairy tale, isn’t it?

In the history of mankind being “left alone in a stable environment” has never really existed. Before the fall, Adam and Eve were not alone—YHWH was in the garden. After the fall, there was no longer any sense of a stable environment—Abel was murdered for simply worshipping God with his whole heart. The idea of a “stable environment” or “consistency” in life is simply not a reality in this fallen world. Sure, there are times in which it feels that way—seasons of life, whether that be nationally or locally, where life seems predictable and arranged. But we all know how quickly the rug can be pulled out from under us—an unexpected death, a car wreck, or sudden job loss. But beyond personal issues, on a larger scale we can be shaken by new legislation, elections, or wars (and rumors of wars). The reality is that the only consistency in life, the only stability is found in this fallen world IS inconsistency and instability—the ocean will always have waves. Sometimes the waves are big, sometimes, small; sometimes they are rogue, sometimes they settle to near stillness, and sometimes danger lurks beneath the surface. This uncertainty is one of the reasons that I believe that the ocean—or sea— features so prominently in Scripture.

In the Old Testament, the sea (יָם, yam), is first introduced in Genesis 1:10, “God called the dry land Earth, and the waters that were gathered together he called seas. And God saw that it was good.” Moving forward in Scripture, we see that the sea represents chaos and de-creation—when YHWH judges the earth in Genesis 6, he does so by bringing the world back to its pre-created state—waters covering the face of the earth. As Scripture continues to unfold, the sea becomes more and more prominent as a metaphor for evil, often used in parallel with the term “deep” (תְּהוֹם, tehom) in biblical poetry, standing for primordial chaos, or the abyss. YHWH defeats cosmic enemies in the form of sea serpents or sea dragons (“Leviathan,” or “Rahab” in Job 41:4). Israel’s enemies are often seen in conjunction with sea, the armies of Pharaoh being swallowed up by them. Israel passed through the sea, through the Jordan, and we pass through water baptism. The sea means chaos and sin. Thus, a simple observation: if YHWH is control and cosmos, sin is lawlessness and chaos.

Now, back to my text conversation with my friend: as we reflected on the world, we simply wanted consistency. But in that moment, like Peter on the raging sea, all we could identify was the continual rolling and breaking of the waves—the sea, the chaos of the deep.

And through this, I was reminded of something last night: I actually do have consistency and stability—I just do not have it with the world. The consistency and stability that I have is found only in Christ, my rock and fortress, my ever present help in times of need. To look to the world for stability is to place my faith in something other than the redeeming work of Christ. Would political, financial, and peaceful stability be nice? Of COURSE it would, but that isn’t the norm in this fallen world, and “a predicatbale life” is not the norm for a Christian on this side of glory. The sea will continue to roll and neither you nor I can depend on it or expect it to do otherwise.

So, what do we do? Like Christ, we all must learn to sleep in the boat buffeted by the waves, to collect firewood from asps when shipwrecked, and to know that the only consistency or stability for the Christian is Christ. If we keep thinking “that wave was the last one,” we are in for one confusing and discouraging journey.

May 29, 2024
A New Frontier for Local Missions?

One of the cornerstones of the Christian conviction is missions. Paul exhorts the church in Romans 10:14-15, “How then will they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how are they to believe in him of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone preaching? And how are they to preach unless they are sent? As it is written, ‘How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!’” Christian conviction and mission conviction should go hand-in-hand.
Money Numbers
Annually, Christians spend around 32 billion dollars on missions. According to a 2019 survey, 61% of a church’s missions budget is spent on local missions, 20% on US missions, and 19% on international missions. This means that roughly 20 billion dollars are spent on local missions in the United States.
People Numbers
According to a 2020 Pew Research survey, in 1972, a staggering 90% of the US population claimed to be “Christian.” By 2020, that number had dropped to 64%, with a tremendous downward trend beginning in 1990. In 2021, a Gallup poll revealed that church membership in the US has fallen below 50%. Studies and trends project that less than 35% of the US population will claim the name of Christ by 2070. These numbers tell me two things:
1. What we are currently doing is not working.
2. Parents are losing their children to the world.

A Factor
I believe that one of the significant factors in the decline of Christianity in the US is influence. With the growth of technology and increased access to thoughts, people, and philosophies that influence our children at younger and younger ages, the church is losing the battle of catechizing their children. While that sounds like a wild, churchy, word, to “catechize” simple means “to instruct orally, make hear.” In other words, parents are being beaten to the oral instruction of the Gospel; they are unable to make their children hear the truths of the Scriptures because the children are already being instructed by and hearing another gospel.

Who is doing the Catechizing?
As a sad reality, the primary influence catechizing our children is found in the local schools. You do not have to look far to see not only anti-Christian agendas, often from the top down, but, even at “Christian” schools, our children are often surrounded by peers who have rejected the Gospel of Christ. And as parents, we are left with a couple of hours each day(at best!) attempting to counter the influence of the world upon our children—the influence in which they have been immersed for the past eight hours, five days per week (let’s not forget social media, etc!)

A Radical Suggestion
So, here is where this all ties together—the missions numbers, church stats, and discussion of influence: should the focus of local missions change? In other words, it is becoming abundantly clear that we are losing the battle for souls within our very own homes, not outside them. What does it say about the church when we are watching the souls of our children walk into darkness and embrace it, but focus instead on the soul of our neighbor? This may sound harsh, but there is a deep-seated truth to the reality that the Gospel worked primarily through the family unit for the majority of history—what does it mean when that is no longer the case? What does that say about our Christian homes, the priority of the family unit, and the focus of our discipleship?

The bottom line is this: What would it look like if we reconsidered local missions spending and began allocating funds to help church members homeschool? Or, what if local missions looked like scholarships aimed at helping parents afford to send their children to Bible-grounded, Gospel-driven, Christian schools? What would it look like to support our church members so their mothers could remain home and raise children under the influence of the Gospel of Jesus, instead of whatever that daycare worker or teacher choose impresses upon them? What if local missions began focusing on our most vulnerable age group of pre or not-yet-Christians in our very midst? Friends, we must first take care of our own house. Unfortunately, the Christian church in the US is overwhelmingly failing to do this and the evidence is right before our very eyes.

*A personal note: I have many good and godly friends who work in both private and public schools–both as administrators and as teachers. And while I do believe they work in some of the best remaining public and private schools, those environments are few and far between. For most public schools, there is often no ability to shield children from Christian homes from the influence of other children or non-Christian teachers. The curriculum is not composed to reinforce biblical ethics or morals–often it is in direct conflict with them. For those friends of mine who work in these environments: continue to fight the good fight!

July 12, 2023
The Billy Graham Crusades Were Good, Right?

At some point in the modern American model of Christian church growth, a subtle yet significant shift occurred—let’s call it the “Billy Graham” shift. In 1948, Billy Graham began his “crusades,” which reached an estimated 210 million people in over 185 countries. The obvious merit of these events was the explosion of the Gospel message across the globe. Many Christians today point back to one of those crusades as the moment they became secure in their salvation in Jesus Christ, and for that I am genuinely grateful. However, I believe that there is a rarely-discussed downside to the crusades, which is worth exploring.

What happens when a generation of Christians are saved with the words, “This is about you and Jesus—no one else?” I still see this all the time in youth ministry culture. When the moment arrives for the altar call at the end of camp, the speaker wants everyone to close their eyes and bow their heads. Then, he calls for students to stand up if they feel that Jesus is calling them. One of the encouragements in this moment is usually something along the lines of, “This isn’t about what anybody else is doing, don’t worry about them—this is about you and Jesus.”

For what its worth: this is technically correct. The moment of faith, the moment of regeneration, is not something between the student, the crowd, the speaker, and Jesus. It is an act of the Holy Spirit to enable the student to embrace Jesus as Lord and Savior. But the problem is what happens next: the student comes forward, everyone cheers and celebrates, and then life goes on.
That speaker goes home.
Those students from other churches go home.
That new, teenaged Christian goes home—often to non-Christian environments.
And what is left?
Just that student and Jesus.

The Christian life was never meant to be an exclusively personal experience.
One of the most significant reasons for bringing a child to the temple for circumcision in the Old Testament was to make a public statement that the child was a member of the covenant community and would be raised as such. In baptism today, we see the same idea: public, visible inclusion with the body of Christ. And herein lies the shift: we celebrate public inclusion via baptism, yet the moment afterwards demand our relationship with Christ be between “me and Jesus.”

And this has significant ramifications:
Church discipline for those living in sin is lacking, to say the least.
Accountability for those who are church members, yet routinely neglect the gathering of the saints, is dismissed.
Jesus can be worshipped on the ball field, lake, or deer stand.
Jesus can be worshipped via livestream or podcasts.

I believe that the problem Billy Graham furthered was that of the “personal Jesus,” the Jesus in my heart. And while, yes, Jesus is in every way our personal Lord and Savior, he is also our corporate Lord and Savior. He not only saves the stones which build his temple, he sets them in place among the other stones. There is no defense in the Scriptures for a Christian who chooses to be disjoined from the fellowship of believers. There is no argument to be made that the Christian life can be walked alone. We are stones of the temple. We are members of a body. You cannot claim the name of Christ yet reject his body.

When this happens:
Finding a church turns into church-shopping (and hopping).
Church discipline becomes offensive.
Church membership seems irrelevant.
The body cannot function as it should.
Iron cannot sharpen iron.
It is their decision, their Jesus, their faith—please don’t confuse it with Christ’s temple, Christ’s body, or Christ’s church.

Unfortunately, the Billy Graham movement pushed forward the Great Awakening’s uniquely independent strand of Christianity.
I don’t believe it was intentional.
I don’t believe he was aware of it.
I don’t believe it is his fault.
I don’t believe the crusades were all bad.
But I do believe this is a reality that must be addressed.

The corporate body of Christ must recover from an ideology of individualism and autonomy. Friends, embrace the body of Christ. Join a local church. Be honest about your faith. Be willing to be vulnerable. Don’t deprive the body of your gifts, nor you of theirs.

We are stones of the temple, parts of the body, members of his Church. There are no biblical grounds for having it any other way.

May 10, 2023
Winnowing Isn’t Winning
The protestant church is slowly shrinking from within. And while it can be suggested that this is simply the winnowing of the chaff, that shouldn’t relieve the Church of her duties. She should not shrug with indifference when the sown seed springs to life only to wither under the heat from the sun—there is no pride of perseverance to be had when this occurs. Nor should the church observe the withered shoots and think, “if only we shaded them from the heat, this wouldn’t have happened.” Instead, the Church should be asking, “why?” Why does so much sown seed blossom, only to wither in the sun?
Admittedly, there are theological ramifications that must be considered when answering that question. From a Reformed perspective, it is the Lord who decides these things, and we are not privy to all of the mysteries of salvation. However, from an earthy, limited, human wisdom perspective, there are steps that we could and should take when we see the withering and wilting shoots of “exvangelicalism” littering the landscape of Christendom, and they aren’t what most churches assume.

The Statistics
To provide a statistical example of this: research shows that in the lives of young children from protestant, church-going families, the “top spiritual activity” they were involved in was regularly attending Sunday School or Small Groups—68% of responders. However, only 29% said that “reading the Bible regularly” was their top spiritual activity growing up. This means that–like it or not–the physical programs of the church are currently carrying the most influence in the lives of teens and young adults—and these physical programs only occur for a few hours each week. Now, consider the long-term effects of these statistics: middle-aged adults have grown up in a Christendom pervaded by dependance upon church programs for the majority of their personal biblical, intellectual, and spiritual development. In other words, for most adults, there is little to no spirit stimulation outside of the local church—unless you count motivational bible verses taken out of context and plastered all over Facebook!
This statistical reality has significant ramifications for the Church. While it is ultimately the work of the Spirit that determines if the sown seed is effectual, the Lord uses the work of the saints to help prepare the hearts of those he calls. It suffices to say that you cannot prepare soil for healthy growth by only investing two or three (or less) hours each week. Just as real soil preparation takes time and effort—clearing weeds, conditioning dirt, eradicating pests, fending off seed-eating fowl—the “soil” of the heart requires much work.

We Need Kaved
I believe that this means there must be a significant shift in the way the average church understands its duties of discipleship. The local church must be kaved (כבד), “weighty, heavy, or honored.” In other words, we must bring gravitas back into the local church. Yes, ministry will always need to be culturally sensitive, but as David Wells so neatly states, culture determines your context, not content. We must press upon our flocks the weightiness, heaviness, and honor of the Gospel. We must regain the understanding that it is an honor to be considered worthy to suffer dishonor for Jesus’ name (Acts 5:41). We must do the difficult (and often dirty!) work of conditioning the heart so that it looks like the good soil in Matthew 13:8—soil that is not longer limited by the lack of depth or nutrition when confronted with tribulation.

So What?
While I do not have all the answers, and I will admit that every context is different, it is my belief that local church ministry as a whole often fails to properly bring the depth and richness of the Scriptures to flocks who desperately need it. We must never forget the second seed in the parable of the sower—we must not judge effectiveness by summer camp baptisms or church attendance. Instead, what is the testimony of your church in times of trial? What biblical demographics are you reaching? Does your church attract mature believers, immature believers, or both? The withered and wilted remains of exvangelical Christendom will not find its answers in shallowed, non-confrontational, soft-truth presentations of the Gospel. I believe those attempts at a culturally appealing, socially inoffensive Gospel are precisely the reason we are seeing the evangelical fallout. The Gospel is by nature counter-cultural.

Instead, I have six initial thoughts on how the church can “till” the hearts of hearers of the word:
1. We must deepen in a world that is shallowing. We must be “seeker-challenging,” not seeker-sensitive.
2. We must broaden Scriptural knowledge, not narrow it. If you offer a Cliff-Notes version of the Gospel, you will get a Cliff-Notes spiritual walk. Teach the Old Testament. Teach the New Testament. Teach the hard truths. Teach the whole council of God.
3. We must confront with truth, not conform. The church fails to faithfully present the truth of sin when we “grey out” what the Bible shows to be black and white.
4. We must assist in spiritual disciplines, not replace. The programs of the church are supportive ministries, not replacement ones. We must work to help our members study the Scriptures faithfully on their own.
5. We must engage in worship, not entertain. The local church is where the body of Christ “does life,” it is not a venue from which to entertain. There is a difference.
6. We must model rich soil, not merely instruct. No one is perfect; we all sin. But how we respond to correction, hurt feelings, and the difficult aspects of living amongst the body of Christ must be demonstrated among the brethren. Head knowledge must produce heart change. A well-tilled heart will be evident when the sun scorches down.
April 24, 2023