Motifs -

Welcome to my ROLLED SCROLL study, where I follow cultural and literary images found in the Bible in an attempt to unearth God’s meaning in His pattern of usage.

BIRD

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door . . .
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

(Edgar Allen Poe, “The Raven”)

One shudders in delight at the tone of Poe’s macabre poem, which carries on the literary tradition of war, death, and mystical power as symbolized by the genus corvus (including ravens, rooks, jackdaws, crows . . .). Aesop, Shakespeare, Dickens, and others went on about this ubiquitous black fowl. Of course, corvids form only a sliver of the world’s bird population, and stories throughout humanity abound with references to them:

In ancient Greece, the crane was sacred to Hermes and Hestia, the eagle to Zeus.
The pelican, legend says, pierced its breast bloody to feed its young in a show of piety.
The Victorian culture picked up the Greek Aphrodite’s and Jewish King Solomon’s association of love with the swooping swallow to popularize jewellery that spoke of romantic faithfulness.
No one could forget Rowlings’s owl Hagrid (Harry Potter), and Narnian skies flutter with many winged creatures including the hummingbird, albatross, and flamingo.
The Beatles (“Blackbird Singing in the Dead of Night”) also employed the trope of the bird to say something or other philosophical.

Scriptural writers, too, mentioned a great variety of birds–some quite exotic, such as storks (Jer. 8:7) and ostriches and peacocks (Job 39:13). Our feathered friends appear in many Bible stories; for example:

God fashioned the birds of the air on the fifth day of Creation (Gen. 1:21)–some considered unfit to eat or offer as sacrifice such as the heron, hawk, stork, cormorant (Lev. 11:13-19).
“Clean” bird flesh was edible and offered by the poor in Temple sacrifice to the Lord (Gen. 15:9; Lev. 12:8).
Elijah was fed bread and meat brought to him on God’s command by an “unclean” flock (1 Kings 17:5-6). The Lord is greater than religion, His grace superseding law.
God used bird imagery to describe His people’s flight from and return to His presence, physically and spiritually (Exod. 19:4; Deut. 32:11-12; Hos. 11:11; Ps. 55:6-8, 124:7). We cannot escape Him (Ps. 139:9-10).
Noah took birds (both unclean and clean) into the Ark, using the raven and the dove to determine when the waters had receded sufficiently for disembarkment (Gen. 8:6-8).
Jonah, whose name in Hebrew means dove or pigeon, fled his God-ordained task as prophet (Jon. 1:3).
Eagles symbolized punishing war (Deut. 28:49; Hab. 1:8).
Goliath cursed David, threatening to feed his flesh to carrion birds (1 Sam. 17:44); similarly, vultures picked the bones of corpses (Matt. 24:28).
God, like a bird Himself, offers us protection and healing (Isa. 31:5, 40:31; Ps. 17:8, 91:4; Ruth 2:12; Mal. 4:2).
But the Lord also uses birds to inflict holy judgment upon evil people as a general principle (Prov. 30:17) and at the end of the Great Tribulation (Rev. 19:17-18).
The Holy Spirit descended upon Jesus like a dove as a symbol of God’s presence (Luke 3:22; John 1:32), perhaps an echo of His birdlike hovering over the waters of creation (Gen. 1:2).
Jesus compared the value of birds to humans in showing the providential care of the Father for the birds themselves, and for humans through the birds (Matt. 6:26; Luke 12:7).
In preaching and parable, Jesus used bird imagery to teach His followers about the nature of the Kingdom (Matt. 13: 4, 19; Mark 4:30-32).

It’s amazing how God uses humble, physical items to allude to exalted, spiritual realities.

NOTE: In these short articles tying literature and culture to the Bible, I explore what God might have been saying in His pattern of usage for each symbol. English rendition of the original Hebrew, Aramaic, or Greek varies with translations (e.g., “scroll” is sometimes interchangeable with “book”); however, the quality and underlying meaning of the selected emblem remain consistent across Bible versions. I’ve used two excellent resources for much of my research: A Dictionary of Biblical Tradition in English Literature (David Lyle Jeffrey) and Dictionary of Biblical Imagery (Leland Ryken, James C. Wilhoit, Tremper Longman III).

INN

The Jolly Sandboys was a small road-side inn of pretty ancient date . . . A mighty fire was blazing on the hearth and roaring up the wide chimney with a cheerful sound . . . It is not very difficult to forget rain and mud by the side of a cheerful fire, and in a bright room.

– Charles Dickens, The Old Curiosity Shop

A far cry from today’s coldly commercial business hotel, the British inn of Dickens’s day was more in keeping with Bible times, when a wayfarer would take lodging in the home of a local resident. In fact, the notion of paying for a night’s room and board was almost unknown under the code of hospitality in the ancient Near East, where private citizens welcomed passers-by to sleep and sup. The picture of the open door offering shelter, comfort, and companionship runs throughout Scripture as testimony to God’s gracious provision and protection.

The first Bible story that jumps to mind in this Christmas season is the narrative of the Nativity: A road-weary couple, turned away from an establishment already full with others travelling to Bethlehem for the census, finds shelter in the cave-stable behind the innkeeper’s house (Luke 2:1-7). But the motif of the inn begins long before the New Testament record.

God created Adam and Eve and set eternity in their hearts, with no plan to bar them from the Tree of Life (Eccl. 3:11; Gen. 2:15; 3:23-24). But ever since we left the Garden of Eden, this world has not been our home (Heb. 13:14; 1 Pet. 2:11). We are all in need of a roof and a welcoming host, as many early Bible stories attest:

Noah’s Ark was God’s temporary refuge for family and animals needing shelter from His storm of judgment (Gen. 6:11-14; 7:15-16).
Lot offered supper and a bed to two angels, who rescued him from a malicious mob by shutting the door of his house against them (Gen. 19:1-11).
Abraham’s servant, in search of a wife for Isaac, was invited overnight into the household of Rebekah’s father (Gen. 24:23-27).
Jacob fled to stay with Uncle Laban in Haran until his brother’s fury abated (Gen. 27:43-44).
Ruth took refuge “under the wings” of her kinsman-redeemer (Ruth 2:8-12; 3:9).
Moses met with God at a lodging house on the road to Egypt, but soon the Lord would welcome His people into a more suitable meeting place—the Tabernacle, God’s own “inn on earth” (Exod. 4:24; Ps. 65:4; 84:10; 122:1).

More than just isolated biblical examples speak of the inn. The Israelites had a habit of housing within their gates foreigners whom they were to treat as their own; they had themselves once been strangers in a strange land and knew the heart of the sojourner (Exod. 23:9; Lev. 19:34; see also 1 Pet. 2:10-11). Israel celebrated the fact of God’s ownership and her tenancy under Him by passing along to those living among them the hospitality, forgiveness, provision, and justice they themselves enjoyed (Lev. 25:23, 35-38; Deut. 10:18-19). Six towns in ancient Israel served as cities of refuge for anyone committing unintentional manslaughter (Num. 35:9-15; Josh. 20:9). But God Himself is our refuge, our safe “inn,” as the Psalmist reiterated time and again (Ps. 7:1; 18:2; 34:8; 46:1; 57:1; 61:3-4; 118:8):

Hear my prayer, O Lord, and give ear to my cry; hold not your peace at my tears! For I am a sojourner with you, a guest, like all my fathers (Ps. 39:12).

Someday in the future, the prophets declared, as God had shown Himself through cloud and fire to His desert-wandering people, He would again show His glory like a tent for Israel, sheltering them in safety and peace (Isa. 4:5-6).

The OT God, who shut the gates of Eden against Adam and Eve, in the NT reopened the way to Heaven through His Son (John 10:7; 14:6). The sin that crouched at the door of Cain’s heart, a tyrannical guest waiting to devour him, was now expiated by the substitutionary atonement of the One who was refused hospitality Himself by the people He came to save (Gen. 4:6-7; John 1:29-31; Mark 6:3-4).

During His ministry on earth, Jesus and his disciples stayed in the homes of welcoming friends (even “sinners”!) as they travelled about the countryside (Luke 10:38; 19:7; John 4:39-40; Acts 18:1-3; 1 Cor. 16:5-7; Philem. 1:22). Jesus told of the Good Samaritan, who cared for a beat-up, half-dead stranger, who paid out-of-pocket for a bed and medical care at a local inn—as the outcast Jesus Himself was willing to seek out and save perishing wayfarers (Luke 10:33-35). The NT teaches about this attitude of hospitality that should typify believers (Matt. 25:35-40; see also 1 Pet. 4:9).

Jesus Christ is the very Door to the sheltering sanctuary of God (John 10:9).

The risen Christ desires intimate fellowship with His children; He stands outside the door of our hearts, knocking and waiting to be let in (Rev. 3:20). And our Heavenly Father hears us knocking on His door through prayer (Luke 11:5-10):

And I tell you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. (Luke 11:9).

Jesus often had this idea on His mind, illustrating divine hospitality with pictures of guests and of doors opened and closed:

The story of the wedding feast criticizes the religious leaders of Israel for rejecting God’s invitation into His kingdom; only guests properly dressed for the banquet will be received (Matt. 22:1ff).
We must be ready for Jesus’ return, waiting in welcome for Him as guests anticipating the procession of the groom (Matt. 25:1-13).
We are to be on guard—house servants actively awaiting the arrival of the owner, doorkeepers controlling access to His home—for when He returns, Jesus will “come in” and recline at the table with us and serve us as His guests (Mark 13:32-37; Luke 12:35-40).
Despite God’s receiving us into the hospitality of His presence through Christ, a time is coming when entrance to the Master’s kingdom will be complete (Luke 13:22-30; see also Heb. 4:6-9). We are invited to enter today.

Two millennia ago the Bethlehem homeowner closed his door against the laboring mother who bore Christ in her womb, yet Jesus was delivered to us so that He could in turn deliver us to the doorway of Heaven, our eternal destination.

At night we win to the ancient inn / Where the child in the frost is furled, / We follow the feet where all souls meet / At the inn at the end of the world . . .

— G.K. Chesterton, A Child of the Snows

In ancient Greece, the crane was sacred to Hermes and Hestia, the eagle to Zeus.
The pelican, legend says, pierced its breast bloody to feed its young in a show of piety.
The Victorian culture picked up the Greek Aphrodite’s and Jewish King Solomon’s association of love with the swooping swallow to popularize jewellery that spoke of romantic faithfulness.
No one could forget Rowlings’s owl Hagrid (Harry Potter), and Narnian skies flutter with many winged creatures including the hummingbird, albatross, and flamingo.
The Beatles (“Blackbird Singing in the Dead of Night”) also employed the trope of the bird to say something or other philosophical.

God fashioned the birds of the air on the fifth day of Creation (Gen. 1:21)–some considered unfit to eat or offer as sacrifice such as the heron, hawk, stork, cormorant (Lev. 11:13-19).
“Clean” bird flesh was edible and offered by the poor in Temple sacrifice to the Lord (Gen. 15:9; Lev. 12:8).
Elijah was fed bread and meat brought to him on God’s command by an “unclean” flock (1 Kings 17:5-6). The Lord is greater than religion, His grace superseding law.
God used bird imagery to describe His people’s flight from and return to His presence, physically and spiritually (Exod. 19:4; Deut. 32:11-12; Hos. 11:11; Ps. 55:6-8, 124:7). We cannot escape Him (Ps. 139:9-10).
Noah took birds (both unclean and clean) into the Ark, using the raven and the dove to determine when the waters had receded sufficiently for disembarkment (Gen. 8:6-8).
Jonah, whose name in Hebrew means dove or pigeon, fled his God-ordained task as prophet (Jon. 1:3).
Eagles symbolized punishing war (Deut. 28:49; Hab. 1:8).
Goliath cursed David, threatening to feed his flesh to carrion birds (1 Sam. 17:44); similarly, vultures picked the bones of corpses (Matt. 24:28).
God, like a bird Himself, offers us protection and healing (Isa. 31:5, 40:31; Ps. 17:8, 91:4; Ruth 2:12; Mal. 4:2).
But the Lord also uses birds to inflict holy judgment upon evil people as a general principle (Prov. 30:17) and at the end of the Great Tribulation (Rev. 19:17-18).
The Holy Spirit descended upon Jesus like a dove as a symbol of God’s presence (Luke 3:22; John 1:32), perhaps an echo of His birdlike hovering over the waters of creation (Gen. 1:2).
Jesus compared the value of birds to humans in showing the providential care of the Father for the birds themselves, and for humans through the birds (Matt. 6:26; Luke 12:7).
In preaching and parable, Jesus used bird imagery to teach His followers about the nature of the Kingdom (Matt. 13: 4, 19; Mark 4:30-32).

It’s amazing how God uses humble, physical items to allude to exalted, spiritual realities.

NOTE: In these short articles tying literature and culture to the Bible, I explore what God might have been saying in His pattern of usage for each symbol. English rendition of the original Hebrew, Aramaic, or Greek varies with translations (e.g., “scroll” is sometimes interchangeable with “book”); however, the quality and underlying meaning of the selected emblem remain consistent across Bible versions. I’ve used two excellent resources for much of my research: A Dictionary of Biblical Tradition in English Literature (David Lyle Jeffrey) and Dictionary of Biblical Imagery (Leland Ryken, James C. Wilhoit, Tremper Longman III).

WITCH

Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison’d entrails throw . . .

Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg and owlet’s wing . . .

Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.

Shakespeare’s MacBeth conjures a picture of witchcraft that has prevailed through four centuries of literary imagination: three foul sisters hunker over a simmering vat in a dark cavern, brewing potions and casting powerful spells. This play was written during the translation period of the King James Bible (1604-11), and both texts use the word “witch”—coming from the Old English wicca, relating to religion and the sacred. Current versions of Scripture instead use the word “sorcerer.”

But biblical reference to the magic arts includes a wide vocabulary of terms that are often interchangeable and undifferentiated in role, with no real distinction made between witches, wizards, sorcerers, and poisoners; lists also include the forbidden practices of astrologers, seers, mediums, and necromancers. The civilizations of Old Testament days abounded in divination and oracles, charms of protection, and interpretation of omens. It was from this occult worldview that God separated out a people to be His very own—to worship Him alone. He condemned the practice of all such activity as idolatrous.

The first mention of sorcery in the Bible shows Moses and Aaron in a standoff before Pharaoh and his Egyptian magicians (Exod. 7:8-13). Recorded shortly thereafter is God’s absolute rejection (via capital punishment) of any fortunetelling or use of demonic power:

Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live (Exod. 22:18 KJV).

God’s character mandated that His people follow a holy lifestyle, turning to Him rather than defiling themselves by seeking the supernatural “wisdom” of the surrounding cultures (Lev. 19:31; 20:6; Deut. 18:10-14). But time and again the Israelites turned away from the Lord, offering their children as burnt sacrifices to the gods and otherwise “selling themselves to do evil” (2 Kings 17:17), as we can see through the stories of some infamous Bible characters:

Balaam was a pagan diviner asked by a Moabite king to curse his enemy Israel; in attempting to appease the powerful Jewish God, Balaam first sought out the will of the Lord—who used a donkey to open the enchanter’s eyes to His truth over the falsehood of omens (Num. 24:1-2 and following).
Saul in sinful desperation resorted to consulting a medium to call up the apparition of Samuel—and God, abhorring satanic involvement, yet graciously intervened with a vision of the dead prophet to rebuke the king (see 1 Sam. 28:7 and following).
The notorious and arrogant Jezebel practiced witchcraft, and ruined Israel’s peace by killing God’s prophets and pandering to the seers of Baal and Asherah (1 Kings 21:25; 2 Kings 9:22; see also Rev. 2:20).
King Manasseh broke away from his father’s godliness to re-establish Assyrian astral worship, Canaanite spiritist practices, and Molech-inspired human sacrifice (2 Kings 21:1-6).

Isaiah declared judgment upon Israel for all this sorcery, comparing the fate of the idolatrous against that of God’s righteous remnant (Isa. 2:6; 19:3; 47:9-12; 65:11-12). He admonished Judah not to fear her coming tribulation, for “Immanuel” God would be with her (Isa. 8:8-10) if she ran to His Word rather than to soothsayers:

And when they say to you, “Inquire of the mediums and the necromancers who chirp and mutter,” should not a people inquire of their God? Should they inquire of the dead on behalf of the living? To the teaching and to the testimony! If they will not speak according to this word, it is because they have no dawn (Isa. 8:19-20).

While in captivity, Daniel honoured God above Babylon’s magicians, enchanters, sorcerers, astrologers, and diviners who used incantations in exorcisms, cast spells, sought revelation in the stars, and decreed the fate of others. The meaning of royal dreams and visions were not correctly revealed to this court of “wise men” but rather to Daniel (Dan. 4:7; 5:5-12). Only Daniel’s God directs the future; only the God of Israel is worthy of praise (Dan. 2:19-23; 4:34-35).

Words of judgment ring out from the last books of the Old Testament against the conjurings of Israel (Micah 5:12-14; Mal. 3:5). But occult activity was still ongoing four centuries later, when Jesus cast out demons throughout Galilee and sent His disciples out with the same power, and when Philip evangelized Simon the Magician in Samaria (Mark 1:39; Luke 9:1; Acts. 8:9-13). Paul encountered the fraudulent wizardry of a Jewish “prophet,” the maniacal ravings of a possessed slave girl, and the conversion of Ephesians who burned their scrolls of magic (Acts 13:6-8; 16:16-18; 19:18-20). In his epistles, Paul preached against participating with demons in the works of the flesh, listing idolatry and sorcery alongside drunkenness and orgies (1 Cor. 10:20-21; Gal. 5:18-22).

The book of Revelation seals up the written Word with a damning verdict against witchcraft (that is, use of drugs, potions, spells, and enchantments as one calls upon demonic powers through incantations, charms, and amulets). God will allow the hell-bent to suffer everlasting torment, for the sins of Babylon in deceiving the nations with her sorcery will eventually come to fruition (Rev. 9:20-21; 18:21-23; 21:8). In the closing chapter of the Bible, the final words of Jesus Christ ring out to explain the destiny of witches and their ilk, as well as the blessedness of those found instead in Him:

Behold, I am coming soon, bringing my recompense with me, to repay each one for what he has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end. Blessed are those who wash their robes, so that they may have the right to the tree of life and that they may enter the city by the gates. Outside are the dogs and sorcerers and the sexually immoral and murderers and idolaters, and everyone who loves and practices falsehood . . . Let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price (Rev. 22:12-15, 17).

HAND

One summer day years ago, as I was stitching on my Bernina at my kitchen table by the window against the backdrop of the wide prairie sky, my three-year-old son asked me,

“Mommy, did God ’chine the clouds?”

His words conjured up an image of the Creator working some great celestial sewing machine, surrounded by billowy white gauze that He gathered and shirred and tucked and tacked and hemmed as He filled the heavens with His handiwork.

My son had hit upon the fact of God’s creation as the first great “work of His hands” we read about in Scripture, and the phrase is used as well for the many doings of both God and mankind—for both good and evil (Ps. 8:3-6; Ps. 90:17; Deut. 28:12; Deut. 31:29). In fact, the word “hand” is used about 1,800 times in the Bible (KJV), two-thirds of them in a symbolic sense. For example, hands folded in slumber represent sloth (Prov. 24:33-34). Hands uplifted in prayer or full of blood or fashioning idols indicate one’s attitude towards God (1 Tim. 2:8; Isa. 1:15; Ps. 135:15). An open or closed hand signifies generosity or hardness of heart, while washing hands can be a declaration of innocence (Deut. 15:7-8; Ps. 26:6; Matt. 27:24). God’s right hand shows His power, protection, righteousness, and possession (Exod. 15:6; Ps. 17:7; Ps. 48:10; Ps. 16:8; Ps. 110:5).

Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand (Isa. 41:10 NASB).

Figuratively, people are the work of the potter’s hand (Lam. 4:2; Jer. 18:1-7; Rom. 9:20-21). God’s mighty hand brought Israel out of Egypt—out of the enslaving hand of Pharaoh (Exod. 3:19-20; Exod. 7:4-5). God stretches out His hand in judgment as well as in redemption and restoration (Jer. 21:5; Ps. 81:14; Isa. 1:25; Ezek. 20:33-34). And every believer has surely felt His chastisement for unconfessed sin:

When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer (Ps. 32:3-4).

But an overview of the physical hand as it appears throughout Scripture gives a framework for its anthropomorphic or anthropopathic application (that is, ascription of human physical or emotional attributes to God). Given the overwhelming number of occurrences of the hand image, my choice of examples in the following outline is admittedly subjective.

Who can forget that earliest of stories in which Adam and Eve, clutching forbidden fruit, were cast from the Garden to prevent their eating from the Tree of Life (Gen. 3:6; Gen. 3:22-24)? Sin abounded but God’s grace prevailed as Cain’s hand dripped with the blood of his murdered brother, Noah’s hand welcomed the dove back into the ark, and Abraham’s hand was stayed from killing his own son (Gen. 4:11; Gen. 8:9; Gen. 22:9-12). Jacob, born holding onto the heel of his older twin brother Esau, later wore goat hair gloves to trick their blind father into blessing him instead of the rightful heir (Gen. 25:26; Gen. 27:15-16, 23). All that Joseph did prospered “in his hand” (NASB) until his master’s wife tore off his cloak as Joseph fled from her seduction; he was imprisoned until his political office was restored, when Pharaoh placed his royal signet ring on Joseph’s hand (Gen. 39:2; Gen. 39:11-12; Gen. 41:42).

Moses’ hands were full with freeing the Israelites from slavery as he wielded the staff of God to effect the plagues against Egypt—turning the country’s water into blood, summoning gnats and hail and locusts to devastate the land, bringing down pitch darkness upon the enemy, and parting the waters of the Red Sea in final victory (Exod. 4:2-5; Exod. 7:19; Exod. 9:22; Exod. 10:12; Exod. 10:22; Exod. 14:21). Moses obeyed God’s command to strike the rock at Horeb with his staff, bringing water to the thirsty wanderers; later he sinned by the same actions of his hands when he disobeyed God’s command in the Desert of Zin and suffered the penalty (Exod. 17:5-6; Num. 20:8-12). The stone tablets of the testimony, written by the finger of God on Mount Sinai, were carried down in the hands of Moses, who angrily broke them on the ground before Aaron’s hand-cast golden calf-idol (Exod. 32:2-4,15-19). Following the instructions given on the tablets, Moses oversaw the building and decorating of the Temple, accomplished by the hands of willing craftsmen and women—though Moses also warned the people not to think it was their hands that brought them prosperity (Exod. 35:10, 25-26; Deut. 8:17). One might think of the hand almost as a theme in Moses’ life.

So we begin to see the extent of God’s usage of the motif even in the first books of the Bible. As we continue to flip through the scriptural accounts, we remember Balaam as he beat his talking donkey that saw the angel with the drawn sword in hand, we recall Ehud the Benjaminite assassin who thrust his blade into the belly of the Moabite king, and we think about Jael hammering the tent peg through the sleeping enemy’s temple—examples representative of God’s using weapons in human hands to get His point across ([pun intended] Num. 22:22ff; Judg. 3:20-22; Judg. 4:21). With his bare hands Samson killed a lion and scraped out honey from its carcass, tied the tails of 300 foxes with torches to burn the enemies’ crops, killed 1,000 men with a donkey’s jawbone, and finally collapsed a whole house by manually pulling down two pillars and dying in the process—all used by God to release Israel from the hand of the Philistines (Judg. 14:6-9; 15:4; 16:29-30; 13:5). David’s hand that played the lyre to soothe mad King Saul also killed Goliath (1 Sam. 16:23; 17:49). Elijah defeated the prophets of Baal and proved God’s holiness when his prayers caused “a little cloud like a man’s hand” to arise from the sea and rain on their parade (1 Kings 18:44). The intrinsic sanctity of the Ark of the Covenant, improperly transported against the Law, was desecrated by Uzzah’s misplaced hand (1 Chron. 13:9-10).

Old Testament visions often included the image. A seraph with tongs held a burning coal to Isaiah’s “unclean lips” and declared his guilt forgiven (Isa. 6:4-7). Ezekiel’s four-fold creature sported human limbs, and an outstretched hand delivered to the prophet a scroll of woeful lamentation; in fact, the book of Ezekiel with its focus on the glory and character of the Lord contains dozens of references to this motif, commenting on judgment for corruption and disobedience, righteousness and purification of God’s people, and the restoration of Judah (Ezek. 1:8; 2:9-10; see also Ezek. 8:3; 10:2-7; 20:34; 23:37; 40:3). No one can forget Daniel and the handwriting on the wall or Nebuchadnezzar’s dream of the block of stone, “not cut by human hands,” that smashed the feet of clay (Dan. 5:1-5; Dan. 2:31-35).

The OT comes to a close and the NT begins with a mention of this motif: a surveyor—possibly the Angel of the Lord—marked out the boundaries of Jerusalem with the measuring line in his hand (Zech. 2:1) and John prophesied the coming Messiah:

He who is coming after me is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and gather his wheat into the barn, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire (Matt. 3:11-12).

The hands of Jesus on earth showed salvation in action. He stretched out His right hand to heal—touching diseased skin and withered limbs and blind eyes, raising the dead to life (Matt. 8:3; 12:13; Mark 8:25; Matt. 9:18). He laid His hands in blessing on children and lifted Peter out of the tempestuous waves and dipped His hand into the dish alongside His betrayer, Judas (Matt. 19:13; 14:30-31; 26:23-25). Jesus’ hands were pierced for our transgressions, and into His Father’s hands He committed His spirit at death, after which He took His place at the right hand of the throne in Heaven (Isa. 53:5; John 20:20; Luke 23:46; Matt. 26:64).

During Christ’s earthly sojourn, we mortals touched God with our hands—He came in the flesh to bring us immortality (1 John 1:1; 2 Tim. 1:10). In a future time, an angel will carry a golden censer burning incense symbolic of the prayers of the saints ascending before God, and he will throw it onto the earth as the trumpet judgments begin to bring devastation to this world (Rev. 8:1-7). Clothed in robes made white in the blood of the Lamb, righteous martyrs holding branches and the harps of God will praise the Lord before His throne (Rev. 7:9-12; Rev. 15:2). Creator God—who laid the earth’s foundations and spread out the heavens and measured the waters in the hollow of His hand—hides us in the shadow of His hand (Isa. 48:13; Isa. 40:12; Isa. 51:16). His children are eternally safe in His palm (John 10:27-29). Someday King Jesus, the firstfruits from among the dead—who holds in His hand the seven stars and lampstands of the Church, the sealed scroll of judgment, and a sharp sickle to harvest the earth—will resurrect our bodies, as well, to everlasting life (Rev. 1:20; 5:1; 14:14-16; 1 Cor. 15:20; Mark 14:58-62):

For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens (2 Cor. 5:1).

FRIEND

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art, like the universe itself (for God did not need to create). It has no survival value; rather, it is one of those things which give value to survival.
—C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

In Lewis’s enduring text on the natural and supernatural loves, he explores the place of interpersonal, flesh-and-blood, human friendship that is a noble theme to consider:

Two are better than one because they have a good return for their labor. For if either of them falls, the one will lift up his companion. But woe to the one who falls when there is not another to lift him up! (Eccl. 4:9-10 NASB)

Several words in the original Bible languages are translated as “friend” and represent a spectrum from relative facelessness to intimacy, depending on context. A friend might be simply a fellow mortal or neighbour, a colleague, perhaps a kinsman, or even someone dear, highly favoured, and loved within a covenant of peace, communion, and fellowship.

The motif becomes complex when considering the whole scope of relationships—including, in New Testament words, both philia (friendship of a primarily reciprocal nature, the idea of loving as well as being loved) and agape (love not arising from the impulse of feelings and not primarily relational, but with resulting side benefits; this is the all-surmounting, holy love essential to God’s being).

We begin our study by looking at horizontal, human friendships.

The traits of a friend include fidelity, confidentiality, and a sense of loyalty that overlooks offense (Prov. 11:13; 1 Chron. 12:17; Prov. 17:9). There’s no room for treachery in friendship; instead, good friends stick together even in the bad times (Prov. 27:10; Prov. 18:24; Prov. 17:17). They are emotionally invested; for example, Jonathan and David had a strong bond that outlived death to be expressed to the next generation (1 Sam. 20:11-17; 2 Sam. 9:6-7):

The soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul. (1 Sam. 18:1)

Friends care for one another and enjoy giving gifts in meeting needs (1 Sam. 18:4; Acts 27:3). Purity of heart and words of graciousness will win even a king’s devotion (Prov. 22:11). Consider Ruth’s readiness to sacrifice, as she declared solidarity with her mother-in-law, Naomi, in their exile:

“Do not urge me to leave you or to return from following you. For where you go I will go, and where you lodge I will lodge. Your people shall be my people, and your God my God.” (Ruth 1:16)

Friends talk face-to-face and rejoice in each other’s successes—lost money found, a wedding in the community (3 John 1:13-15; Luke 15:8-9; John 2:1-2). They are deeply familiar with one another, and spend time and “take sweet counsel” together (Ps. 55:13-14; Prov. 27:9)—although not at the expense of honesty, for,

Better is open rebuke than hidden love. Faithful are the wounds of a friend . . . Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another. (Prov. 27:5-6, 17)

We often read of Bible companions sharing meals as David feasted with his mighty men, and physically embracing as Esau hugged Jacob (1 Chron. 12:38-40; Gen. 33:4). But not all who share a table are trustworthy, not all who embrace truly love (Ps. 41:9; Jer. 41:1-2; Deut. 28:54). Discernment in choosing companions is of paramount importance:

A dishonest man spreads strife, and a whisperer separates close friends . . . Make no friendship with a man given to anger, nor go with a wrathful man, lest you learn his ways and entangle yourself in a snare. (Prov. 16:28; Prov. 22:24)

Indeed, bad company ruins good morals; Amnon followed the plot of his crafty friend Jonadab and raped his own sister Tamar (1 Cor. 15:33; Deut. 13:6-8; 2 Sam. 13:3-14). Sometimes one’s enemies band together in alliance against the godly, like Job’s three fair-weather friends, or Pilate and Herod on the day of the Crucifixion (Job 2:11; 16:20; 19:19; Luke 23:12).

The Bible sets the world’s definition of friendship in juxtaposition against God’s:

It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in humans . . . Cursed is the one who trusts in man, who draws strength from mere flesh, and whose heart turns away from the Lord . . . Blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in Him. (Ps. 118:8; Jer. 17:5, 7 NIV)

Indeed, God’s friendship (agape) is on a different plane altogether than the world’s friendship (James 4:4; John 15:19). When Adam and Eve lost their relationship with God, death entered to become our final enemy (Gen. 3:8; 1 Cor. 15:26). Ever since our separation from God in the Garden, He has been calling us back into relationship with Him (Isa. 45:22; Matt. 11:28). Consider His overtures of friendship when, early on, He interrupted the cycle of death by taking Cain’s son Enoch (who “walked” or fellowshipped with Him) alive to Heaven, as He did again later with Elijah (Gen. 5:22-24; 2 Kings 2:11). Consider His agape love when He chose Israel and called Abraham His friend (philos) because of his faith, or when He spoke intimately with Moses—forging covenants of great friendship with His people (Isa. 41:8; James 2:23; Exod. 33:11), for,

The friendship of the Lord is for those who fear Him, and He makes known to him His covenant. (Ps. 25:14)

God’s ultimate act of friendship was sending His gift of Jesus Christ to the world as a unique friend we could relate to in a physical, visceral sense—deity in flesh, God we could touch (Heb. 1:1-2; Phil. 2:6-8; 1 John 1:1).

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

With the coming of Jesus, friendship took on a whole new significance. Of course, He had “friends” in the sense of human companions (Matt. 11:19; John 15:14-15). He wept together with Mary in philia-type friendship over Lazarus’ death, and He considered His disciples to be dear (philos) friends (John 11:32-36; Luke 12:4). At the Last Supper, He even addressed Judas as friend, but note that He used a different word here; hetaire would be better translated as “friendly opportunist” or “imposter,” for Jesus knew the dark heart of his betrayer (Matt. 26:48-50; John 2:23-25).

In a further differentiation of Jesus’ human relationships, John the Apostle was known as the disciple He loved (agapao) (John 13:23; 19:26). It is only on the basis of God’s friendship with us in Christ that we can know agape, for Jesus came to reconcile us to Himself, to change our status of enmity and bring us close to God again (Rom. 5:10; Col. 1:19-20; Eph. 2:12-13).

Greater love [agape] has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends [philos]. (John 15:13)

This in turn allows us to truly love others as siblings within the Body of Christ (Heb. 13:1). We now greet each other with agape, break bread together, season our speech with the bite of salt, and speak the truth in love—not just in word but also in deed (1 Pet. 5:14; Acts 2:46; Col. 4:6; Eph. 4:15; 1 John 3:18). We are no longer enemies of one another but, like Jesus, become kind, compassionate, and forgiving—as God has forgiven our enmity towards Him (Titus 3:3-7; Eph. 4:32; Matt. 5:43-44). We then offer the Good News of Christ’s friendship to the world, who will know us by our love—seeing us as united as partners, affectionate, sympathetic, comforting, and selfless (Matt. 28:19; John 13:35; Phil. 1:3-5; Phil. 2:1-5).

This is true friendship, indeed!

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These short literary articles tied to the Bible explore what God might have been saying in His pattern of usage for each symbol. English rendition of the original Hebrew, Aramaic, or Greek varies with translations (e.g., “scroll” is sometimes interchangeable with “book”); however, the quality and underlying meaning of the selected emblem remain consistent across versions. Sketches are by Lorenda Harder. I recommend the website of Dr. Grant C. Richison for thorough expository Bible study: www.versebyversecommentary.com.

CUP

All friends shall taste the wages of their virtue, and all foes the cup of their deservings.

–Shakespeare, King Lear, 5.3

William Shakespeare wrote the tragedy King Lear sometime between 1603 and 1606, just as the Church of England was translating the King James Bible (published 1611) to replace earlier versions. The declaration above, by the fictitious Duke of Albany, is itself almost biblical, reminding us of that famous verse concerning the wages of sin (Rom. 6:23). Literary theorists have established the influence of the Bible upon Shakespeare’s work, and with this fictive quote we can see as well how the Bard employed the motif of the cup previously established in Scripture.

The cup (also translated from Hebrew as bowl, goblet, basin, or chalice) makes its first appearance in the full-orbed story of Joseph, a young man sold into Egyptian slavery by his brothers. While in prison, Joseph correctly interpreted the dream of his cellmate, the disgraced royal cupbearer, who fulfilled the dream-prophecy by once again taking up his duties; two years later Joseph himself was released by Pharaoh (Gen. 40:1-4, Gen. 40: 21-23; Gen. 41:14). Joseph rose in stature as a powerful government official overseeing Egypt’s crop production and distribution in a time of widespread famine. When his family arrived from neighbouring Canaan pleading for aid, he ensured their return to Egypt by planting his own silver cup in their belongings (Gen. 44:1-17).

A cup design was integrated into sacred articles used for worship in the Tabernacle and in Solomon’s Temple, including the golden lampstand and the huge basin holding thousands of gallons of water for use in the courtyard (Exod. 37:17-20; 1 Kings 7:48-50; 2 Chron. 4:4-5). King Solomon’s world-renowned wisdom and wealth left the visiting Queen of Sheba breathless as she noted the excellence even of his cupbearers (2 Chron. 9:1-4). This esteemed position of “poison taster” for the king next comes up in the account of Nehemiah: Solomon (who began his reign so well) fell into pagan worship, which eventually resulted in God’s judgment of Israel and the seventy-year Babylonian captivity of the Jews. During this oppression, the slave Nehemiah (later the rebuilder of Jerusalem’s walls) served as the personal cupbearer of the king of Persia (Neh. 1:11). We can see an interesting progression of the cup’s use—from its sanctity as a vessel of worship to its chastisement as an instrument of humiliation.

The Psalmist further carried this juxtaposition between the cup of joy and the cup of judgment:

The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup; you hold my lot . . . You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows . . . Let [God] rain coals on the wicked; fire and sulfur and a scorching wind shall be the portion of their cup . . . but it is God who executes judgment, putting down one and lifting up another. For in the hand of the Lord there is a cup with foaming wine, well mixed, and he pours out from it, and all the wicked of the earth shall drain it down to the dregs. (Ps. 16:5; Ps. 23:5; Ps. 11:6; Ps. 75:7-8 ESV)

The remaining Old Testament references to the cup all speak of God’s judgment regarding Israel’s cycle of idolatry and repentance, the nation forced to drink God’s “cup of wrath and staggering” or delivered from drinking it by His grace (Isa. 65:11; Isa. 51:17-22). God used the metaphor of the cup through His prophet Jeremiah as an object lesson: His divine punishment was meted out to His people through military conquests by His enemy, who came to be typified as “Babylon”—a golden cup of drunken madness in the Lord’s hand from which the whole earth would someday be forced to drink (Jer. 25:15-17; Jer. 25:28; Jer. 51:7). After the siege of Jerusalem (588-586 B.C.), the author of Lamentations mourned the city’s fate and called for vindication against her enemy (Babylon)—God’s enemy, who will one day drink of the bitter cup of His judgment (Lam. 4:21). Ezekiel, Habakkuk, and Zechariah all spoke of the horror, shame, and desolation of this judgment (Ezek. 23:31-33; Hab. 2:16; Zech. 12:2). Their language is echoed again in Revelation, a future time in which the “wine of God’s wrath” will be “poured into the cup of His anger” against Babylon—that is, against all false religion in the world (Rev. 14:10; Rev. 16:19; Rev. 17:4; Rev. 18:6).

But judgment is mitigated by grace, and in the New Testament Jesus used the image of the cup to teach about His mercy and substitutionary suffering on our behalf. He spoke of the reward due those who give just a cup of cold water to His children—that is, to the lowliest of His disciples (Matt. 10:42; Mark 9:41). He described the religious leaders of the day as hypocrites, cups clean on the outside but filthy within (Matt. 23:25-26). When James and John wanted spiritual favours in His kingdom, Jesus reminded them of the cup of suffering and death they would face, but only after He Himself faced a much greater, unique passion—the cup of God’s wrath He voluntarily drank on our behalf (Matt. 20:22-23; Matt. 26:39; John 18:11).

But before Jesus died, at the celebration of the Last Supper He gave deeper meaning to the cup by identifying it with the New Covenant, salvation through His blood:

And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he said, “Take this, and divide it among yourselves. For I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.” And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood” (Luke 22:17-20).

The Passover celebration being held at that same moment in homes throughout Jerusalem featured a meal full of symbolism, each element of food and drink representing a different aspect of God’s salvation of His people. Four cups of wine would be passed among family members at different junctures in the meal to commemorate God’s promises—the first cup of sanctification (He would deliver Israel from the burdens of Egypt), the second cup of plagues (deliverance from bondage), the third cup of redemption (by God’s outstretched arm), and the fourth cup of consummation (God’s promise to take a people for Himself; Exod. 6:6-7). With His disciples in the upper room, Jesus (according to some commentators) drank the third cup of redemption, followed by His promise that He would not drink again until He drank with them (and us!) in Heaven, likely referring to the fourth cup of consummation still awaiting fulfillment.

Meanwhile, as we await the return of the One who holds the eternal cup of salvation, we believers drink from the cup of blessing rather than of demons—we serve only one Master (1 Cor. 10:16; 1 Cor. 10:21). We celebrate our own “Passover”—the memory of Christ’s death and resurrection and future return—with the chalice of Communion (1 Cor. 11:25-28).

The biblical motif of the cup runs through Scripture and symbolizes both judgment and grace, both punishment and forgiveness. Shakespeare’s declaration is mitigated for us; in fact, we do not sip from the “cup of our deservings” but rather from the grace-filled cup of Christ’s propitiation.

SALT

A year ago I toured the Roman ruins beneath the city of Barcelona, with its 4,000 square metres of tumbledown stone walls delineating homes and businesses—the laundry, the winery, the garum factory. Ancient Romans loved their garum, a sauce made by fermenting fish guts in brine. Salt itself was a crucial trade item to the Romans, and early soldiers were given a ration known as salarium argentum, the Latin basis of the English word “salary.”

But of course the history and literature of salt goes back further than two millennia. In Bible lands, salt was connected with hospitality; the ancient practice of offering salt and bread to a guest was emblematic of a promise of loyalty and protection, and to “eat the salt of the palace” meant one was in the service of the king (Ezra 4:14). Salt was one of the first international commodities, with trade routes connecting Africa, Asia, the Middle East, and Europe. The Bible early on records military maneuvers and political boundaries in reference to the Salt Sea (known to us as the Dead Sea; Gen. 14:3; Num. 34:3; Deut. 3:17). Edible salt was likely mined from the Mediterranean Sea.

The first memorable Bible story concerns Lot’s wife who, fleeing the sulphur-and-fire rainstorm of judgment from Heaven on Sodom and Gomorrah, gazed back longingly upon her home and became a “pillar of salt” as a monument to her unwillingness in following God (Gen. 19:24-26; Luke 17:28-30; Luke 17:32-33). Soon salt was associated symbolically with preservation, purification, and seasoning.

Preservation: Salt was used in Tabernacle worship; it was added to incense to produce white smoke and enhance fragrance, and added to grain offerings to signify the holy durability of the covenantal relationship between God and His people (Exod. 30:35; Lev. 2:13; Num. 18:19; 2 Chron. 13:5; Ezra 6:9; Ezek. 43:24). The Israelites ate salted locusts preserved in bottles—wings, feet, and intestines removed (Lev. 11:22; Matt. 3:4).

Purification or separation: God sometimes “cleansed” idolatrous nations by sowing them in salt so that farmland was left unproductive (Deut. 29:23; Judg. 9:45; Ps. 107:34; Zeph. 2:9). But in Jericho, where the well had turned sour and brackish water was killing crops, the prophet Elisha likened the ecological disaster to the spiritual pollution of Baal worship; he threw salt into the bad well to make it sweet, a miracle teaching that the Lord—not the god of fertility—could permanently heal their barrenness (2 Kings 2:19-22). The one whose heart turns away from God will wither like a malnourished plant:

He is like a shrub in the desert,  and shall not see any good come.  He shall dwell in the parched places of the wilderness,  in an uninhabited salt land (Jer. 17:6 ESV).

On the contrary, God provides for those who worship Him with pure hearts. Ezekiel compared Jerusalem to a cast-off newborn, an unwanted child whom no one pitied enough to wash and rub with salt and wrap in blankets until God noticed her kicking in her blood and rescued her for Himself (Ezek. 16:4-7). In this same Jerusalem during the Millennium, a river of life-giving water will flow from the Temple into the Dead (Salt) Sea, making it fresh so that its trees will produce fruit for food and leaves for healing (Ezek. 47:11-12; Rev. 22:1-3).

Seasoning: Salt in the New Testament refers first of all to taste: Jesus called believers the “salt of the earth” and admonished us not to lose our tangy witness, our distinctiveness from the world (Matt. 5:13; Mark 9:50; Luke 14:34). Jesus might have been alluding to a popular belief of the time that salt could lose its virtue, probably arising from the use of Dead Sea mixed-mineral deposits from which sodium chloride would dissolve away to leave just a tasteless or bitter reside. Pure salt is good and has value as a condiment and preservative as long as it retains its essential properties, Paul wrote, and so our speech is always to be “seasoned with salt”—pure and full of truth (Col. 4:6). In a reverse application of this metaphor, James warned that one’s heart shows its true source by the quality of one’s works:

Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and salt water? Can a fig tree, my brothers, bear olives, or a grapevine produce figs? Neither can a salt pond yield fresh water (James 3:11-12 ESV).

The nature of salt is expressed in both negative and positive imagery throughout Scripture: salt is polluting as well as preserving, purifying, and seasoning.

As a sort of postscript, I note that sweat—the salt of the body—is mentioned only three times in the Bible, a triad making a piquant point of its own regarding the concept of “work”:

In the Garden after the Fall, the Creator cursed the ground with thorns and thistles, condemning humans to struggle and sweat for daily bread until we return to the salty dust from which we were made (Gen. 3:19).
Then, in His rules of sanctification for Levitical priests as they served in the sanctuary, God showed His holiness by prescribing linen undergarments that were not to bind in such a way as to cause the defilement of human perspiration (Ezek. 44:15; Ezek. 44:18-19).
Finally, in the cleansing and sanctifying action of Christ’s suffering, His sweat fell to the ground like great drops of blood (Luke 22:44).

God’s Word uses even this homely image of sweat to show how sin and the insufficiency of our own efforts are overcome through the creative, saving work of Jesus Christ, our great High Priest.

* * *

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LIGHT

We believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of all things visible and invisible. And in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, begotten of the Father, Light of Light, very God of very God . . .

Thus begins the Nicene Creed, a historical statement of Christian orthodoxy hammered out a mere three hundred years after Jesus walked the earth. Its motif of light runs through Scripture, beginning with the first words of the Creation story, where out of dark chaos God brought forth light:

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. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light . . . (Gen. 1:1-3 ESV)

But the concept of God’s creating light is far removed from His being light. Let’s watch the Bible progressively unfold the metaphor of light in a sampling of its over two hundred appearances.

Physical light is mentioned in conjunction with God’s leading Israel out of bondage and through the desert by means of a plague and a pillar (Exod. 10:21-23; 13:21). Yahweh’s gloriously shining shekinah descended upon Mount Sinai, making Moses’ face glow before filling the Tabernacle (Exod. 24:15-18; 34:29; 40:34-38; 2 Chron. 5:13-14). Many Bible stories occurred at sunrise: Consider Abraham’s departure to sacrifice Isaac, Joshua’s march around Jericho as the walls fell, and Elisha’s miraculous protection by angelic chariots of fire (Gen. 22:3; Josh. 6:15-16ff; 2 Kings 6:15-17).

The symbolism of light develops through poetry. Job contrasted the darkness of death and wickedness with the light of God’s favor (Job 10:21-22; 18:5-6; 24:13-17; 29:2-3). The Psalmist referred to God’s joy-giving presence and His Word as light that guides into truth and brings blessing as He searches us out in our dark lostness (Ps. 4:6; 97:11; 19:8; 43:3; 139:11-12).

The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?  The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? (Ps. 27:1 ESV)

The Prophets described God as everlasting light, bringer of prosperity (Isa. 60:19-20; Hab. 3:4; Zech. 14:7; Dan. 2:22; Isa. 58:8-10). They said His end-times judgment would produce cosmic cataclysm—with stars, constellations, the sun, and the moon ceasing to shed light, and all again becoming “formless and empty” in a sort of undoing of Creation (Isa. 13:10; Jer. 4:23; see as well Matt. 24:29). But a poignant prophecy from Isaiah about the coming Messiah rang with hope, written seven hundred years before the Nativity and repeated in Matthew (Matt. 4:16) as fulfilled in Christ:

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,  on them has light shone. (Isa. 9:2 ESV)

Jesus’ angelic birth announcement was surrounded by light, and a star lit the way of the Magi (Luke 2:9-10; Matt. 2:9-10). The book of John radiates Christ’s light, which banishes sin’s darkness by exposing truth (John 3:19-21; 12:46).

In him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1:4-5 ESV)
“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (John 8:12 ESV)

Jesus caused the blind to see both physically and spiritually (Matt. 6:22-23; 9:27-30). He taught His followers to likewise bring His truth to the world:

You are the light of the world . . . Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. (Matt. 5:14-16 ESV)

His resurrection from the dead at daybreak on the third day, declared by an angel whose appearance was like lightning, proved Him to be the light He claimed to be (Matt. 28:1-3).

In the early Church, Peter was rescued from prison by an angel who shone a light into his cell, and Paul’s dramatic conversion as well centered around a blinding “light from heaven” (Acts 12:5-7; 26:12-18). The Epistles warn us not to miss the light—we must wake up and cast off the works of darkness (Rom. 2:17-22; 13:11-13). Satan and his minions are disguised in light as servants of righteousness, Paul taught, but we have been delivered from that domain and now “share in the inheritance of the saints in light” (2 Cor. 11:14-15; Col. 1:12-13). The God who long ago said, “Let there be light!” has shone light into our darkness through Jesus, calling us to “walk as children of light” (2 Cor. 4:6; Eph. 5:8-9; 1 Thess. 5:5).

God will one day disclose the purposes of our hearts, exposing what is now hidden in darkness, for He is the Unchangeable One who “dwells in unapproachable light” (1 Cor. 4:5; James 1:17; 1 Tim. 6:16). As we walk in His light today, we fellowship in love with one another (1 John 1:7; 2:9-10).

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light . . . that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life . . . (I Pet. 2:9; Phil. 2:15-16 ESV)

Someday the New Jerusalem will shine with God’s glory, “its radiance like a most rare jewel,” so that the sun and moon will no longer be needed; the Lord God and the Lamb will illuminate eternity (Rev. 21:10-11; 22:3-5).

May Jesus Christ—the “Light of Light” and “very God of very God”—illumine our hearts and minds this Yuletide and New Year.

LAMP

And then she saw that there was a light ahead of her; not a few inches away where the back of the wardrobe ought to have been, but a long way off . . . In about ten minutes she reached it and found it was a lamp-post.

— C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

Anyone caught under the spell of Lewis’s fiction knows that the lamppost marks the beginning of the magical kingdom of Narnia, where it was “always winter and never Christmas” until Aslan saved his kingdom from the curse of the White Witch. In profound Christian allegory, Lewis invested his motif of the lamp with some of the great meaning previously developed in biblical literature.

The household lamp of ancient domestic life was a clay dish full of olive oil with a flax wick; we see one in Elisha’s bedroom and another kept lit by the godly homemaker of Proverbs (2 Kings 4:9-11; Prov. 31:18). Alternatively the lamp might be a torch fueled by oil—but never a candle feeding on itself to provide light, for “oil” in Bible parlance denotes the Holy Spirit, as in the parable of the ten virgins (Matt. 25:1-12). In fact, most scriptural references to the lamp pertain to its religious or symbolic use and are associated with the presence of God, worship and guidance, the life of the soul, witness or prophetic proclamation, and illumination by the written Word.

The lampstand, with seven flames signifying God’s holy perfection, appears almost a hundred times in Exodus alone. Its light perpetually shone in the Tabernacle and subsequent Temple; the hammered gold menorah with its stems, leaves, and blossoms resembled the Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden (Exod. 25:31-37; Lev. 24:1-4). The lamp connotes God’s presence not only in the Sanctuary (1 Sam. 3:3) but also within the hearts of His people:

For you are my lamp, O Lord, and my God lightens my darkness . . . For it is you who light my lamp. (2 Sam. 22:29; Ps. 18:28 ESV)

Even during the reign of wicked rulers, God remembered His covenant and, unwilling to destroy the lineage of the coming Savior, He kept the lamp of David’s line burning (2 Chron. 21:7; Ps. 132:17). A lamp shows what’s in the darkness, and so the Lord searches our “innermost parts” (Prov. 20:27; Ps. 139:11-13; Ps. 139:23-24). Haughty eyes and proud heart are the lamp of the wicked, but blessing shines above those walking in the light of God’s ways (Prov. 21:4; Job 21:17; Job 29:1-6).

God’s commandments, too, are pictured as a lamp (Prov. 6:23). The Psalmist, ridiculed for his faith, strengthened himself by meditating on the Scriptures, and so delighted in them that he wrote a 176-verse acrostic poem to celebrate God’s body of teaching able to direct one’s life:

How blessed are those whose way is blameless, who walk in the law of the Lord . . . I have restrained my feet from every evil way, that I may keep Your word . . . Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. (Ps. 119: 1,101,105 ESV)

God used the image through the Prophets to warn Israel of her coming captivity, when she would be left “lampless” and far from home; soon thereafter Jerusalem fell to Babylon and the Temple was ransacked of holy vessels, including lampstand (Jer. 25:10; Jer. 52:18-19). It was at that time God searched Jerusalem with lamps and punished her stagnancy of spirit (Zeph. 1:12). When the golden vessels of Nebuchadnezzar’s pillage were desecrated, God judged the sacrilege through supernatural handwriting on the wall, read in the light of the royal lampstand: “Your kingdom will end” (Dan. 5:1-31). Zechariah’s apocalyptic vision pertaining to Israel’s future included seven small lamps fed continually with oil from two olive trees portraying two Spirit-filled leaders, signifying Israel would become the light of all the world (Zech. 4:11-14). The last of the OT prophets, John the Baptist was a burning lamp of testimony shining until Jesus—the True Light—came in the glory of the Father (John 5:33-35).

Jesus indicated the type of person entering the Messianic Kingdom would—like a lamp on a stand rather than one hidden beneath a basket—shine forth the light of God’s glory (Matt. 5:14-16). The eye is the lamp of the body; Christ’s followers see through the perspective of God’s viewpoint so that light permeates their whole person, in contrast to the darkened understanding of the spiritually blind (Matt. 6:22; Luke 11:34). We are to keep our lamps of spiritual readiness lit as we await His return (Luke 12:35-37). For we have an enlightening teacher in the written Word, a lamp shining in a dark place until the day dawns and the morning star—the Eternal Light, Jesus—rises in our hearts to shine greater understanding, dispelling the darkness forever (2 Pet. 1:19; Rev. 22:16).

Exiled to Patmos, John the Apostle envisioned Jesus standing in the midst of seven lampstands, representing seven historic churches (now in Muslim territory) that once cast His light onto the world but whose testimony He snuffed out when they no longer shone forth the truth of the Gospel; Jesus is present in churches where His truth holds fast (Rev. 1:9-13; Rev. 2:1-5). Alluding to Zechariah’s vision of lamps fed directly by olive trees, John wrote about the two witnesses in the end times who, full of the Spirit of God, will testify during the reign of the Antichrist regarding the Second Coming (Rev. 11:3-6). Someday all false religion and evil will be extinguished like a cold lamp (Rev. 18:20-24). In eternity, seven lamps of the Holy Spirit will burn before God’s throne, where the Lamb of God will illuminate the New Jerusalem forever (Rev. 4:5; Rev. 5:6; Rev. 21:23).

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CLOTHING (NT)

The finest clothing made is a person’s skin, but, of course, society demands something more than this.

—Mark Twain, New York Times, 1906

It’s always the badly dressed people who are the most interesting.

—Jean Paul Gaultier, Designer

Poets and wags have much to say on the subject of what to wear, but the story of clothing is most fascinating as told through Scripture. In last month’s post we followed OT images of clothing that illustrate God’s character as Creator, Provider, and Judge; they relate to the Fall of mankind into sin, God’s care for Israel physically through daily supply and spiritually through priestly blood sacrifice, and His promises to one day bring His people back to Himself again.

The New Testament carries on the motif of clothing with meaning progressively added, beginning with the Gospels where a sort of salvation history can be traced chronologically in the life of Christ:

At His Nativity, Jesus was wrapped in swaddling cloths and (though not specified here) we can imagine the rich outfits of the visiting Magi, the rags of the peasant shepherds, and the shining glory of the angels’ apparel (Luke 2:7-13; Matt. 2:1ff).
John the Baptist preached in camel’s hair and leather so distinct from the long robes of the religious leaders, marking him as a prophet and indicating his message of Christ’s very different in-breaking kingdom (Matt. 3:4; Luke 7:24-27; Luke 20:46).
The element of clothing was involved in Jesus’ ministry. Those who touched His garments in faith were physically healed (Mark 5:25-34; Mark 6:56). He warned against false teachers as wolves dressed like sheep, and admonished believers to care for the poor and naked (Luke 12:23-28; Matt. 7:15; Matt. 25:36-43). Where the OT Law had disallowed lending or taking of one’s cloak, Jesus’ law of love prescribed turning the cheek and giving more than was demanded (Matt. 5:40; Luke 6:29; see also Exod. 22:26).
In Jesus’ parables the prodigal son received his father’s best robe upon returning as believers receive God’s gracious welcome home; the “purple and fine linen” of the rich man did not get him into the Heaven that poor Lazarus entered; and wedding clothes depicted righteousness in Jesus’ economy (Luke 15:22; Luke 16:19-20ff; Matt. 22:11-14).
On the Mount of Transfiguration, Jesus’ clothing became “bright as a flash of lightning” (NIV) as He spoke to Elijah and Moses about His coming departure from this world through which He would bring salvation (Matt. 17:2; Luke 9:28-31).
In the Triumphal Entry, Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a saddle of His disciples’ cloaks, His donkey treading on the coats that the crowd spread before them (Matt. 21:6-8).
During the arrest and trial, He was brought before Caiaphas who, in fury over Jesus’ “blasphemous” statement of His deity, tore his own priestly garb (which, incidentally, the Law forbade; Lev. 21:10; Matt. 26:65). Soldiers stripped the condemned Jesus, dressing Him in the scarlet robes of a king to mock and humiliate Him (Matt. 27:27-31).
At the Crucifixion, His garments were divided up into lots in fulfillment of prophecy (Matt. 27:35; John 19:23-24).
But at His Resurrection from the dead, He left behind the linen shroud in which His body was wrapped, exchanging it for transcendent, heavenly clothing (Matt. 27:59; John 20:3-7; Rev. 1:13).
The angels attending the tomb were dressed resplendently, as were the angels standing beside the disciples at Jesus’ Ascension into Heaven (Matt. 28:3; Luke 24:4; Acts 1:10).

The literary emblem of clothing is sustained past Jesus’ departure from this world, with the rest of the New Testament continuing to teach and interpret God’s message for believers. Acts notes that the early church included Dorcas and Lydia, the first a seamstress who donated dresses to widows and who died and was brought back to life by Peter, the second a tradeswoman who dealt in the highly prized purple cloth from Thyatira (Acts 9:39-40; Acts 16:14 ). Paul (who before conversion gave his approval to the stoning of the first Christian martyr, Stephen, by the act of guarding the garments of the killers) taught that we believers are to “cast off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light” (Acts 7: 58-8:1; Acts 22:20; Rom. 13:12). We’re further instructed to dress modestly in worship (for our beauty as women does not come from outward adornment), to be content with God’s provisions of food and clothing, and not to show preferential treatment based on the richness or shabbiness of a worshiper’s attire (1 Tim. 2:8-10; 1 Pet. 3:3-4; 1 Tim. 6:8; James 2:2-3; Luke 12:27-28). For we have “put off” the old self of sinful ways and “put on” the new self like a garment (Col. 3:9-10).

In a future day, when Jesus calls us Heavenward, our bodies will put on imperishability and immortality (1 Cor. 15:53). We will then be dressed as His Bride in the “fine linen” of righteousness that God has declared belongs to those who trust Christ’s payment for sin, and the robes of the Tribulation saints will have been washed in the blood of the Lamb to remove all stains (Rev. 7:14). The church is Christ’s Bride, comprised of saints who work righteous deeds in His power, and by His work on the Cross Jesus has purchased our wedding gown for us:

Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure—for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints. (Rev. 19:7-8 ESV)

In perhaps the strongest declaration of the glorious Coming of Jesus Christ the Prophet, Priest, and King, we read again of His attire:

He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which he is called is The Word of God. And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses. From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has a name written, King of kings and Lord of lords. (Rev. 19:13-16 ESV)

Clothing is a comprehensive biblical motif expressing God’s judgment against sin demanding blood atonement, His provision of Jesus as the final sacrifice of complete covering, and our marriage to His Son for which we, the church—the Bride of Christ—are dressed in the robe of His righteousness.

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CLOTHING

I spent three muggy summer months in Japan when I was twenty, during which time a generous host family outfitted me in a traditional ensemble: navy-and-white cotton yukata robe, brilliant yellow obi sash, wooden geta sandals in the lucky colour red. My round eyes and wild blonde perm notwithstanding, I felt very Japanese! I’d been initiated into the culture by identifying with that ancient emblem, the national costume. Of course, long before countries divided into geographical entities—at the dawn of civilization, in the “age of innocence”—apparel wasn’t even an issue.

History: The Old Testament relates the history of clothing beginning in the Garden of Eden, when Adam and Eve traded in their nudity for a suit of fig leaves they vainly hoped would cover their shame from succumbing to the lies of chaos and death brought by Satan (disguised as a snake; Gen. 3:1-10). But before God turned them out of the Garden of communion with Him, He provided a covering of animal skins in the first biblical bloodletting—the genesis of the sacrificial system of substitutionary sin atonement (Gen. 3:20-24).

Value: The next biblical scene shows Abraham, through his servant, negotiating for Isaac’s wife with a dowry of jewellery and garments (Gen 24:52-53). High economic value was placed on raiment as gifts, trade items, and plunder taken in war (Judg. 17:10; 2 Chron. 9:24; Josh. 22:8; 1 Sam. 27:9). One’s outfit was a mark of one’s status: widows could be distinguished from prostitutes; lepers shredded their clothes to warn others of their disease; kings and courtiers were dressed for success; penitents and mourners wore sackcloth—dark, coarse goat’s hair also used to make grain sacks (Gen. 38:14-19; Lev. 13:45; Gen. 41:42; 2 Sam. 3:31).

Religion: Clothing took on the religious significance of purity and consecration when God prescribed fine linen from turban to breeches for the priests, with gold embroidery decorating the high priest’s extravagant and bejewelled outfit (Exod. 28:2-5; Exod. 29:21; Lev. 19:19). This pristine attire was splattered with blood during temple offerings, showing the defilement of sin (Lam. 4:14). Tearing of one’s own clothes was a synonym for grief, as when the prophet Ezra learned of the sin of Israel’s intermarriage; tearing off another’s clothing showed subjugation, as when conquered kings were stripped of their vestments and their authority (Ezra 9:3; Job 12:17-19; Job 19:9).

God’s provision for His people extended to their wardrobes: during Israel’s forty years in the wilderness, the wanderers’ apparel and even footwear miraculously didn’t deteriorate (Deut. 8:4; Deut. 29:5). The most-used fabrics for the outer mantle and inner tunic worn both men and women in Bible times were wool, linen, and cotton (and possibly silk)—although flax and fleece were never woven together unless for priests (Deut. 22:11). One’s cloak, used to carry goods, was not to be loaned out or taken, as it doubled as a blanket at night (Exod. 12:34; Exod. 22: 25-26; Deut. 24:13).

God’s character: The OT uses the metaphor to explain God’s character as Creator and Judge. He clothes the heavens with blackness and wraps up the waters in a garment, and attires the fields in lilies for a more stunning effect than the glory of Solomon’s wardrobe (Isa. 50:3; Prov. 30:4; see also Luke 12:27-28). The clouds are the garments of the sea, and the sea in turn dresses the deep, and Leviathan wears his skin like a raincoat that no human can remove (Job 38:9; Ps. 104:6; Job 41:13). Yet someday the heavens and earth will wear out, and God will roll them up like a mantle and change the clothing of creation (Ps. 102:25-26; Isa. 50:9; Isa. 51:6-8; Heb. 1:12). For now, God robes Himself with honour and majesty; He wraps Himself in light as a garment, and in the armoury of righteousness, salvation, vengeance, and zeal (Ps. 104:1-2; Isa. 59:17). In vivid messianic prophecy, Isaiah described the coming of the Lord in priest-like robes splattered blood-red from treading the winepress of judgment (Isa. 63:1-3). And yet, again with the imagery of dressing, God expressed joy that Jerusalem would be brought out of exile and rebuilt:

Awake, awake, put on your strength, O Zion; put on your beautiful garments, O Jerusalem, the holy city. (Isa. 52:1 ESV)

Bible stories: The lives of some of the most colourful biblical characters feature clothing:

Jacob, vying for Esau’s inheritance of blessing by tricking their blind father, put on his brother’s clothes and bound goatskin onto his hands and neck to mimic the scent and feel of his hairy twin (Gen. 27: 15-27).
Joseph’s ornate tunic signifying his special status in the family was stripped from him when he was sold into slavery; he displayed his moral integrity when he ran from his master’s wife, leaving his outer cloak in the seductress’s hand as evidence of his supposed attack; then rising to political prominence he donned robes of fine linen and presented gifts of clothing when reunited to his estranged family (Gen. 37:3-23; Gen. 39:12-18; Gen. 41:42; Gen. 45:22)
Mighty Samson needed thirty outfits to pay off a wager from his riddle of the lion and the bees (Judg. 14:10-19).
Widowed Ruth wore her finest when meeting Boaz on the threshing floor, where she asked him to cover her with the edge of his garment in a ceremony indicating his redeeming protection and provision; he sent her home carrying her cloak filled with barley (Ruth 3:1-3ff).
Hannah made a linen frock every year to take up to her son, Samuel, serving since boyhood in the temple in Jerusalem (1 Sam. 2:19).
Elisha—crying out and tearing his own clothes as Elijah was borne by a whirlwind to Heaven—picked up from the ground where it was dropped his predecessor’s mantle of authority and power (2 Kings 2:11-14).
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego survived Nebuchadnezzar’s fiery furnace without a hair of their heads singed or the smell of smoke clinging to their cloaks (Dan. 3:19-27).
Lovely Queen Esther donned royal robes before entering the presence of the king of Persia to prevent the genocide of God’s people (Esther 5:1-3ff).
Jonah, freshly vomited from the fish, proclaimed God’s message demanding repentance and saw all of Nineveh—from the king down to the donkeys—garbed in sackcloth (Jonah 3:5-8).

Faithfulness: The image of clothing can relate to faithfulness(or lack of it). At times God’s people wore the whore’s gown of apostasy, but upon repentance they were dressed in robes of righteousness and salvation (Ezek. 16:16; Isa. 61:10). In beautiful matrimonial language that reminds us of the foregoing story of Ruth, as well as the future Wedding Feast of the Lamb, God described His covenant with Jerusalem:

When I passed by you again and saw you, behold, you were at the age for love, and I spread the corner of my garment over you and covered your nakedness; I made my vow to you and entered into a covenant with you, declares the Lord God, and you became mine. Then I bathed you with water and washed off your blood from you and anointed you with oil. I clothed you also with embroidered cloth and shod you with fine leather. I wrapped you in fine linen and covered you with silk. (Ezek. 16:8-10 ESV)

Prophecy: As the Old Testament draws to a close, we’re left with ringing prophecies (some yet to be fulfilled). Daniel pictured the Ancient of Days taking His seat on a flaming throne in vesture as white as snow (Dan. 7:9). Hosea spoke of God in judgment against unfaithful Israel as a husband taking back his wool and his flax to expose his adulterous wife’s nakedness and uncover her lewdness in the sight of her lovers (Hosea 2:9-10). Joel talked about the Day of the Lord bringing the mourning of a bride for the groom of her youth, dressed in sackcloth rather than nuptial robes, and of the sorrowing Jewish priests putting on sackcloth to lament the cessation of temple sacrifices (Joel 1:8-13).

We see from an OT survey how images of clothing illustrate God’s character as Creator, Provider, and Judge, relating to the Fall of mankind into sin, God’s care for Israel physically through daily supply and spiritually through priestly blood sacrifice, and His promises to one day bring His people back to Himself again.

To be continued . . .

RAINBOW

Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high,
There’s a land that I heard of
Once in a lullaby.

Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.

— E.Y. Young, Over the Rainbow

This song, written for the 1939 Wizard of Oz film, expresses an ancient longing for the divine, a yearning to fly off into the heavens of everlasting bliss glimpsed by every heart since Adam and Eve first lost the Garden. In biblical literature, the rainbow is a strong but seldom-used image, appearing in only four settings—twice in the Old Testament and twice in the New.

Of course every Sunday school student knows the iconic OT story of the Great Flood, when God drew the rainbow in the sky as an everlasting sign of His covenant to Noah—a reminder to all mankind and even to Himself that He would never again send such a deluge to drown out the earth (Gen. 9:13-16; read the full story in Gen. 6:1-9:17). We encounter the English word next in a description of the glory of God that surrounds Him like the radiance of “a rainbow in the clouds on a rainy day” (Ezek. 1:28 NIV). But in both cases, the Hebrew word translated into English as rainbow—qesheth—more clearly refers to a military bow, and this concept of bow and arrow is used throughout the OT in connection with God’s judgment (e.g., Ps. 7:11-12; Ps. 77:17; Ezek. 5:15-16; Zech. 9:14; 2 Sam. 22:14-15). In other words, God set the prismatic arch in the clouds above Noah’s grounded Ark as though He were hanging up His bow at the end of a battle, putting away his weapon after His fury with evil had been for the time appeased, to be faced again in the end times before eternal peace (Zech. 14:1-3; Rev. 19:15; Rev. 20:6).

In the NT apocalyptic book of Revelation, the Greek word for both references to the rainbow is iris (bringing to the minds of John’s contemporaries, perhaps, the mythological goddess named Iris, said to be the personification of the rainbow and the messenger of Zeus to mortals—a bridge between divinity and humanity). John was taken into heaven; he envisioned a mighty angel robed in a cloud with a rainbow above his head, and the Lord Himself sitting on His throne encircled by a rainbow (Rev. 10:1; Rev. 4:3). The spectrum of hues mentioned here harks back to the OT descriptions of the vest worn by the Jewish high priest and also alludes to the foundation of the New Jerusalem—both garment and groundwork encrusted with twelve precious jewels (such as emerald, jasper, amethyst, topaz) signifying God’s matchless magnificence (Exod. 28:17-21; Isa. 54:11-12; Rev. 21:19-21).

All this talk of rainbows and gemstones brings up the subject of colors in the Bible, some of them taking on special meaning as they’re applied within the context of the narrative. For example, green is often associated with God’s provision through nature—of vegetation for food and pastures to lie in (Gen. 1:30; Ps. 23:2; Mark 6:39). God promised that those who trust in His steadfast love would flourish like green olive trees, but it was “under every green tree” that His faithless people worshipped idols (Ps. 52:8; Jer. 3:6). God, patient and merciful, yet warns of ecological devastation He’ll someday visit upon the earth in judgment (Rev. 8:7).

Another colour was mentioned by the Apostle Paul when he wrote of Lydia, whose business was dealing in purple cloth; as purple dye was a luxurious commodity prepared from rare molluscs found on the Mediterranean coast, and affordable only to the wealthy, it became indicative of royalty and strength (Acts 16:14; Dan. 5:29; Esther 1:6-7; Rev. 17:4). In mockery, the Roman soldiers dressed Jesus in a royal purple robe for His trial (John19:2-5).

Black illustrates God’s righteous anger, as in His chastising desolation of Jerusalem whose citizens’ fine white complexions were blackened like soot as their bodies shrivelled with starvation (Lam. 4:6-8). At times God comes in darkness like a black storm, or sends a rider on a black horse carrying scales of justice (Ps. 18:9-14; Isa. 50:3; Joel 2:1-2; Rev. 6:5). The day of the Lord’s victory over his enemies was “already but not yet” fulfilled at Jesus’ crucifixion, when a preternatural gloom fell over the whole land (Zeph. 1:15; Matt. 27:45).

In contrast to the black darkness of God’s wrath upon the guilty, His sustenance and forgiveness bring inner cleansing represented by the colour white. For example, the sweet manna He sent to nourish the Israelites on their journey was white, and the psalmist asked for God to wash him whiter than snow (Exod. 16:31; Ps. 51:7). Although a false whiteness is mentioned in the Bible (as when Jesus called the Pharisees of His day “whitewashed tombs” hiding putrification), yet the colour usually symbolizes purity (Matt. 23:27). At the Transfiguration Jesus shone “white as light” and—similar to His Father, the Ancient of Days—the Son is pictured in white as the Lord of glory (Luke 9:29; Dan. 7:9; Rev. 1:13-15). Angels appear in white as well (John 20:12; Acts 1:10). The victorious redeemed ride white horses, and heaven’s residents in pristine linen receive new names written on white stones (Rev. 19:14; Rev. 3:4-5; Rev. 6:11; Rev. 2:17). Believers are “refined, purified, and made white,” and robes are washed in the blood of the Lamb to remove all stains (Dan. 11:35; Rev. 7:14).

The starkness of red or scarlet often stands for the blood necessary in expiation, foreshadowing the final blood sacrifice of the Lamb of God taking away the sins of the world (Lev. 14:4-6; John 1:29; Heb. 9:11-14ff).

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. 1:18)

On the other hand, the harlot Babylon is described as sitting on a scarlet beast symbolic of the false religious system that will be in place when Jesus returns, and the scarlet of her clothing speaks of political power and riches further identifying Babylon with sin (Rev. 17:3; Rev. 18:15-20).

Bluelinen,the colour of the sky synonymous with the boundary line separating sacred from profane, was worn by Jewish priests performing mediatory rites and (along with other colours) draped the portable Tabernacle furniture to shield the holy items from contamination (Exod. 39:1; Num. 4:4-7). Likewise, the curtains of the Tabernacle and subsequent Temple in Jerusalem were made of blue, scarlet, and purple twisted linen with cherubim worked in threads of golden embroidery, with the “veil” separating the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place—the very presence of God (Exod. 26:31-34). This multi-coloured veil might well have reminded the Israelites of the covenant rainbow, or perhaps it spoke to them of the glory of God once so far off in His celestial home and now living amongst them (Exod. 40:34). It was this veil—this barrier between the iniquity of man and the holiness of God—that was torn in half from top to bottom upon the death of the Man/God Jesus Christ, who’d become human to dwell among us (Matt. 27:50-51; John 1:14 ). Now mankind had free access to the presence of the Father through the flesh of the Son (Heb. 6:19-20; Heb. 10:19-22).

The colours of the rainbow—from the greening of creation to the shed blood of Christ—radiate throughout Scripture and reflect the grace of God in His promises, provision, and protection.

CHAIR

Just about eleven o’clock, the door-latch was raised quietly, and in stepped the master. He threw himself into a chair, laughing and groaning, and bid them all stand off, for he was nearly killed—he would not have such another walk for the three kingdom.

—Emily Brontë, Wuthering Height

I love the passage in Wuthering Heights about Mr. Earnshaw’s long-anticipated arrival home, with the ragamuffin Heathcliff tucked into the folds of his greatcoat, and his family crowding around him as he sat down before the fire in his wingback chair in a posture of authority and rest.

This scenario of sitting down is played over and again throughout Scripture, too, with the furniture of the chair sometimes mentioned and other times not. Several words in the original Bible languages translate into English as “seat,” “bench,” “chair,” “throne,” and so on. We can group the occurrences of a person taking a seat, or sitting down, using the two broad categories of authority and rest.

Authority:In the Bible, the symbolism of sitting often carries the meaning of responsibility in a political, social, or spiritual sense. A high-ranking official might seat himself at the city gate—like Lot, who was visited by two angels at the entrance to Sodom before its destruction, or like a man of honour hobnobbing with the town elders (Gen. 19:1; Prov. 31:23; Ruth 4:1-2). Esther’s relative and a royal advisor with special privileges, Mordecai took his place at the gate of King Xerxes (Esther 2:19-21; Esther 5:1). Judges and priests sat down when they pronounced or instructed, and God sits as the ultimate Judge (Judg. 4:4-5; Judg. 4:9; 1 Sam. 1:9; 2 Chron. 19:8). One day we will stand before the bema (judgment platform) of the seated Lord to receive reward for works done in His name (Rom. 14:10; 2 Cor. 5:10).

In Bible times people often sat, too, as they were learning; for example, Jesus implored His friend Martha—busily preparing food—to instead join her sister Mary at His feet and listen to His words (Luke 10:38-42). He Himself sat to teach—beside the sea, on the mountain, in the temple (Matt. 13:1; Matt. 5:1-2; Matt. 15:29; Matt. 26:55). As Jesus and His disciples reclined around the table (likely upon cushions or divans), He taught them lessons about humility in seating oneself at the lowest place, and about the New Covenant of His blood (Luke 14:7-11; Luke 22:14ff; 1 Cor. 11:23-26). He described the Kingdom of God as a banquet where the faithful sit at table (Matt. 8:11; Matt. 22:1-3ff; Luke 14:15; see also Isa. 25:6).

(As an aside, one of the Greek words for chair—kathedra—appears in the New Testament only three times, once in referring to the “seat of Moses” that was filled by the hypocritical Jewish teachers of the Law, and twice to the dove sellers’ “seats” overthrown by Jesus along with the moneychangers’ tables in the temple [Matt. 23:1-3; Matt. 21:12; Mark 11:15]. The subsequent development of this word kathedra is historically interesting: the Latin phrase ex cathedra came to designate the validity of instruction issuing from the “throne”of the papal chair—a doctrine challenged by the Protestant Reformers who believed in Scripture as authoritative over church tradition.)

The throne in Scripture signifies both human power and the kingship of God. For example, Egyptian pharaohs and Babylonian rulers sat on a royal dais (Exod. 12:29; Jer. 43:10). Solomon’s ivory-and-gold chair was known for its splendour, and the Lord is pictured as sitting on His throne with the host of Heaven surrounding Him (1 Kings 10:18; 2 Chron. 9:18-19; 1 Kings 22:19; Ps. 7:7; Ps. 113:5). The throne of David on earth will one day be occupied by the Lord Jesus Himself, who will reign in peaceful sovereignty over the whole world and finally put an end to the “church-versus-state” debate as He rules truly ex cathedra (1 Kings 2:33; Isa. 9:7; Isa. 16:5; Luke 1:32). The Son now sits exalted beside the Father’s throne in heaven, as we see in Daniel’s vision of the Ancient of Days as well as in the gospel narratives (Dan. 7:9-14; Matt. 19:28; Matt. 26:64; Mark 14:62; Mark 16:19; Luke 22:69). Paul expanded on the royalty of King Jesus and our future place in His enthroned glorification (Eph. 1:20-22; Col. 3:1).

The writer of Hebrews compared the never-ending work of the Jewish temple priest (who stood to administer his earthly service day after day) with the once-for-all sacrifice of Christ (who sits, His work completed forever):

Now the point in what we are saying is this: we have such a high priest, one who is seated at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in heaven . . . Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross . . . (Heb. 8:1 and 12:1-2 ESV)

The biblical picture of the seated Christ symbolizes His ultimate religious and royal authority as the Prophet, Priest, and King foretold throughout Scripture.

Rest: In the Bible, sitting represents not only authority but also rest. Current society loves leisure, which often bears little resemblance to the rest prescribed throughout Scripture. We know how to work and how to play, but we often neglect the tranquility of “sitting down on the inside.”

The concept of rest harks back to the first book in the Bible. In the beginning, God worked vigorously in creating the world, and then He sat down and put His feet up; that is, He “rested” (Hebrew: shabath or “sabbath”; Gen. 2:1-3). But Adam and Eve’s fall into sin caused the restlessness of all mankind, and so in Moses’ day God instituted the covenant sign of the Sabbath, marking Israel as God’s chosen people and reminding them that He had brought them out of slavery in Egypt and was leading them to their future home of rest in the Promised Land of Canaan (Exod. 31:13-17; Deut. 5:15; Gen. 12:1, Deut. 3:18-20). They could depend on Provider God, for this rest is a matter of ceasing from human endeavour and worldly striving:

In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength (Isa. 30:15 ESV)

The beloved of the Lord rest secure in him, for he shields him all day long, and the one the Lord loves rests between his shoulders. (Deut. 33:12 NIV)
We, too, find this restful peace with God—this “sitting down” at the table of fellowship with Him—when we come to Him through Christ Jesus (Rom. 5:1; Eph. 2:12-14). Then we can rest from anxiety, for God has promised to meet our needs and give us internal restfulness when we cast our cares on Him (Isa. 26:3; Matt. 6:25ff; Phil. 4:6-9; 1 Pet. 5:7). Jesus calls to us:

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. (Matt. 11:28-29 ESV)

The blessing of a peaceful, joyous relationship with God comes to those who refuse to “sit in the seat of scoffers” and instead meditate on God’s Word (Ps. 1:1). This Sabbath rest of relationship promised to the Israelites can be ours, as well, if we soften our hearts to hear His voice urging us to cease from our own labours and trust instead in the work of Christ on the cross (Heb. 3:3-11). Moses instituted the sacrificial system of the high-priestly offerings for the sins of the people, who longed to be “at home” in the Promised Land (Heb. 10:11-14). But Christ’s once-for-all sacrifice as Great High Priest ushers us today into the Sabbath rest of His presence—where, because of His free gift of salvation, we can come boldly before God’s throne to be eternally seated in heavenly places with Jesus (Heb. 2:6; Heb. 4:16; Rev. 14:13).

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HOUSE

“ ‘My grandmother,’ I said in a low tone, ‘would have said that we were all in exile, and that no earthly house could cure the holy homesickness that forbids us rest.’ ”

—G.K. Chesterton, Manalive

I’m awaiting the upcoming movie adaptation of G.K. Chesterton’s 1912 novel Manalive, premiering this summer. Chesterton was the subject of my graduate thesis a decade ago, fascinating me with his ability to invest images with symbolic meaning. The spiritual theme of “finding home” played throughout his writings—not surprising, given the influence of Christianity in his literary development.

The Bible, too, is rich in word pictures relating to house and home, including terms such as dwelling place (or resting place, or place to return to), family (or dynasty, or household), human body, tent, tabernacle, refuge and sanctuary, the Church, Heaven, and many analogous expressions. Our contemporary English tendency to distinguish “house” from “home” is not evident in the Hebrew and Greek Scriptures, the Bible using the words interchangeably.

Let’s begin with the story of Creation, when God “laid the foundations” of the earth, intending to fill it with inhabitants—His household—made in His image (Gen. 1:27-28; Isa. 48:13; Eph. 2:19). Adam and Eve were evicted from their home of the Garden—that is, from intimate communion with their Creator—now just tenants in the fallen house of the broken world (Gen. 3:23-24). This loss was followed by God’s nomadic curse upon their murderous son, Cain, and the tendency of mankind’s fugitive heart has been to restlessly wander from the home of God’s presence ever since (Gen. 4:11-12; Isa. 53:6).

The generations following that first human family grew increasingly corrupt, so that God—whose own abode was in heaven—looked down upon His footstool of the world and decided to do a thorough housecleaning (Isa. 37:16; Isa. 66:1-2; Gen. 6:5-7). He sent a great flood to sweep away evildoers, but saved Noah and his family in a houseboat that carried them over the waters of destruction, settling them securely in the land once more (Gen. 7:7; Gen. 7:23; Gen. 9:1). But again and again the earth’s residents challenged God’s claim on them, until He called out a people of His own from the pagan world, promising Abraham (who left his homeland for a new home) that Israel would become a great nation, a great name, and a great blessing to all people (Gen. 12:1-3; Heb. 11:8-10).

Further to that, God made a covenantal promise to Moses of a new homeland in Canaan,

a good land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and springs, flowing out in the valleys and hills, a land of wheat and barley, of vines and fig trees and pomegranates, a land of olive trees and honey. (Deut. 8:7-8 ESV)

The Israelites sought this homeland with God in their midst, for on Mount Sinai, along with the Ten Commandments, He gave Moses a blueprint for the portable Tabernacle or Tent of Meeting, a “house on earth” for God to indwell (Exod. 25:8; 1 Kings 8:29). God accompanied them but—after forty years of wandering homeless in the desert before crossing the Jordan River into the Promised Land, through centuries of His faithful provision and loving discipline that sometimes included exile from their homeland—the idolatrous children of Israel continued to wander away spiritually from their eternal Father, who was their “dwelling place” (Jer.13:10; Deut. 33:27).

Then Jesus left His heavenly home and came to reside on earth—God’s presence no longer a vaporous Cloud of Glory in the Holy of Holies but now a flesh-and-blood man “tabernacling” among us (Phil. 2:6-7; John 1:1-3; John 1:14). In Christ the whole fullness of God dwelt bodily (Col. 2:9). But though Jesus made His earthly home in Nazareth, He wasn’t recognized there; as He said when His neighbors took offense at His teaching, “A prophet is not without honor except in his hometown and in his own household” (Matt. 13:57 ESV). Jesus taught His disciples that as a father welcomes his prodigal son home, so too does God, our eternal Father, welcome the vagabond home into the embrace of His holy presence (Luke 15:21-24). Jesus not only showed us the way, He Himself became the road of our homecoming to Heaven, where He is preparing a place for us (John 14:1-6).

But for today Jesus promised that He would make His home with us, because we are God’s temple where His Spirit dwells; Christ dwells in our hearts through faith (John 14:23; 1 Cor. 3:16; 1 Cor. 6:19-20; Eph. 3:17-19). One day the nation of Israel will know the indwelling Spirit and fully reclaim her status as God’s family, but presently the corporate Church makes up the household of God (Jer. 31:33; Ezek. 36:26; 2 Cor. 3:3; Eph. 2:19; 1 Tim. 3:15). In proper relationship with God’s Son, we the Church become the house of God ourselves (Heb. 3:3-6).

Perhaps you and I will still be alive when Jesus returns in the clouds to gather all believers together with Him in the air and takes us to our eternal residence (1 Thess. 4:17). But in the meanwhile for the rest of us, the day is coming when the tents of our human bodies will be plucked up in death and no longer house our souls; then we’ll “put on” our heavenly dwelling with the Lord (Isa. 38:12; 2 Cor. 5:1-8). We’re each instructed to let the Word of Christ (the truths of the Bible) dwell in us richly, as the Person of Christ (His Holy Presence) dwells in our hearts through faith (Col. 3:15-16; Eph. 3:17).

In this way, our hearts become Christ’s home and, simultaneously, we find our home in Him—our exile ended, our holy homesickness cured. The beloved Anglican prayer sums up our homecoming in Christ:

Father of all, we give you thanks and praise that, when we were still far off, you met us in your Son and brought us home. (Church of England, Common Worship)

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ROAD

“‘It’s a dangerous business, Frodo, going out of your door,’ he used to say. ‘You step into the Road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to.’”

—J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Rin

In the 1950s, Tolkien wrote one of the world’s greatest fantasies when he took Frodo and Sam from the Shire to Mordor and back again. His trilogy follows a long line of journey tales; consider Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales, and the ancient Greek myth of Jason’s quest for the Golden Fleece. In fact, to “step into the Road” (as Tolkien’s Bilbo put it) is a literary theme found over and again in the stories of the Bible.

The biblical road started out at Eden’s gates: God, having banished Adam and Eve from the Garden, placed cherubim to block their way back to the Tree of Life (Gen. 3:23-24). The word “way” here literally means road, distance, journey, or manner. Thus began humanity’s trek down the dusty road of life that ends in death, for—as God said to them and to us—“You are dust, and to dust you shall return” (Gen. 3:19).

The picture of a physical path was soon more concretely painted in the narrative of the upright widow Tamar who, waiting by the road to Timnah in disguise, was mistaken as a prostitute by her father-in-law, Judah—their ensuing child Perez a direct ancestor of Jesus Christ (Gen. 38:13-15ff; Matt. 1:3). Ever gracious, God delivered the Israelites from Pharaoh’s tyranny, leading them on desert tracks, accompanying them through the wilderness with cloud and fire, sending an angel before them to guard them as they tramped towards the Promised Land (Exod. 13:17-21; Exod. 23:20). Yet time and again they disbelieved Yahweh, who went “in the way” before them, and they refused to walk “in His ways” (Deut. 1:32-33; Deut. 6:14; Deut. 28:9; 1 Kings 2:3). This idea of walking in the ways of God adds meaning to the tangible noun “road” and implies moral choice: Would God’s people take His road or follow after idols?

Balaam was an occult practitioner who loved the wages of wrongdoing; the Lord blocked his road, giving his donkey a human voice to chastise its owner (Num. 22:22-24; 2 Pet. 2:15).When the walls of Jericho came tumbling down, the harlot/ heroine Rahab (another in Christ’s human bloodline) saved her family from destruction because she followed the instruction of the Israelite spies to keep out of the streets (Josh. 2:19; cf. Josh. 6:23). Old Eli found the streets a dangerous place as well, meeting his death as he sat by the battle trail watching for the Ark of the Lord (1 Sam. 4:13). Deborah prophesied against Barak: “The road on which you are going will not lead to your glory” (Judges 4:9 ESV). This negative idea is reinforced by David who, praising the Lord for deliverance from the hand of Saul, described crushing his enemies and stamping them down “like the mire of the streets” (2 Sam. 22:43). Other prophets, too, cast a negative shadow on the roadway as a place of wailing and mourning, of worthless throwaways—the dirty, forsaken, blind, and dying (e.g., Isa. 15:3; Jer. 14:16; Lam. 4:14; Mic. 7:10).

The street symbolizes not only idolatry and wayward seduction, but also public prophecy and godly praise (Jer. 44:17; Ezek. 16:25; Jer. 11:6; 2 Sam. 6:16). One walks the road of spiritual life, choosing righteousness or wickedness (Ps. 1:1-6). God distinguishes the right way from the wrong and—like a shepherd—leads and guides in paths of righteousness (Ps. 16:11; Ps. 17:4-5; Ps. 23:1-3). He takes faithful travellers onto the heights like sure-footed deer, for the instruction of His Word lights the pilgrim’s footsteps (Hab. 3:19; Ps. 119:1; Ps. 119:105).

Wisdom personified raises her voice in the streets; likewise, the adulteress calls out (Prov. 1:20; Prov. 7:10-12; Prov. 7:25-27). One must morally choose between straight and crooked paths, between devious and upright ways, for God sets before us the way of life and death, and our destination depends on our choice (Prov. 3:31; Prov. 4:10-15; Prov. 8:32; Jer. 21:8).

Old Testament prophecy tells us that one day Jerusalem will be fully restored, her streets resounding again with the rejoicing of young and old (Jer. 33:10-11; Zech. 8:4-5). This sense of expectancy regarding the “new thing” springing forth (Isa. 43:19) is heard as well in Isaiah’s foretelling the coming of John the Baptist:

A voice cries: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.” (Isa. 40:3 ESV)

These prophetic words of Isaiah are echoed again in all four Gospels, and indeed John did herald Jesus Christ, whose trek down the dusty road to the Cross was about to bring eternal life. Jesus continued to use the literary image of the road. He called His disciples—“Follow me!”—on the costly journey as He trod the sod of Galilee, teaching and healing those by the wayside and in the marketplaces—the despised and broken and sinful now made whole (Matt. 8:22; Matt. 4:23; Mark 6:56). It was into the hard road of discipleship that Jesus would send His followers to be persecuted, fleeing from town to town (Matt. 10:23; Mark 6:8).

During the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus condemned the self-righteous hypocrisy of those who publicly prayed in the streets in order to earn man’s praise (Matt. 6:2). He included the illustration of the road as He taught through parables about the broad and narrow ways leading to destruction or salvation, and about the seed fallen along the roadside for the birds to eat (Matt. 7:13-14; Matt. 13:4). Jesus made His triumphal entry into Jerusalem upon the back of a donkey colt traversing a route spread with cloaks and branches, lined with a crowd shouting in praise, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” (Matt. 21:8). He then infuriated the Pharisees with the story of the king who prepared a banquet and sent to the highways and byways and crossroads for the blind and lame—the disrespected now the only ones welcomed as honored guests (Matt. 22:8-9).

The road figures in much of the historical narrative of the New Testament. After the Crucifixion and Resurrection, Jesus appeared to two of His followers on the road to Emmaus, and then blinded Paul on the Damascus Road (Luke 24:13-15; Acts 9:2-3). A zealous persecutor of those who belonged to “the Way,” Paul now waited at a home on Straight Street for Ananias to restore his sight, then took the road to Ephesus, preaching boldly and working miracles (see Acts 19). Meanwhile, Philip approached an Ethiopian court official, parked in his chariot on the desert road from Jerusalem to Gaza, and told him the Good News about Jesus (see Acts 8). To a culture dependent upon walking to get anywhere, Jesus’s declaration would have been profound:

I am the way [literally, road], the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. (John 14:6 ESV).

That is, Jesus claimed to be the very road itself, our passage to God.

Practicing the character qualities of our salvation listed in 2 Peter 1:5-7 gives us spiritual muscle to run in our Christian lives and not stumble out of fellowship with God, for

we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus,by the new and living way that he opened for us (Heb. 10:19-20 ESV).

We travellers through the world are equipped to walk straight and run well the race set before us (Heb. 11:13; Heb. 12:1; Heb. 12:13). As sojourners and exiles on the path of this world, we’re exhorted to follow the way of truth and righteousness rather than running riotously like Cain and Balaam (1 Pet. 2:11; 2 Pet.2:2; Jude 1:11). Someday we’ll stroll on heavenly streets of gold in the New Jerusalem, and again taste of the fruit of the Tree of Life so long ago blockaded against our parents, Adam and Eve (Rev. 21:21; Rev. 22:2).

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LAMB

Mary had a little lamb,

Its fleece was white as snow;

And everywhere that Mary went

The lamb was sure to go . . .

This nursery rhyme, first published in 1830, was inspired by a true incident of a Massachusetts schoolgirl who had a constant companion in her pet. The lamb is a cultural icon for innocent compliance and vulnerability; for example, Alfred Hitchcock’s 1958 film “Lamb to the Slaughter” appropriated the theme of victimization, and an October 2011 article in Forbes magazine coined the term “the lion lying down with the lamb” to illustrate an economic point—both phrases originating in Scripture (Jer. 51:40; Isa. 11:6).

Liturgical tradition has for many centuries included the symbol of agnus dei (“Lamb of God”) in formulaic chant and religious art, but tracing the biblical usage of the word for oneself can be personally enlightening. Certain pictures come readily to mind: the Good Shepherd gathering the lambs into His bosom; the prophet Nathan’s parable of the lamb, which convicted David of murderous greed; Jesus sending His disciples out into the world as lambs into the midst of wolves (Isa. 40:11; 2 Sam. 12:1ff; Luke 10:3).

But an exciting redemptive theme emerges when we look a little more deeply.

Of course, the nomadic Hebrews depended on sheep for meat, milk, and wool. For this reason we see hundreds of biblical references to the animal, beginning with the story of Abel—history’s first murder victim and keeper of flocks—who pleased God by his faith but suffered his brother’s jealous rage (Gen. 4:2; cf., Heb. 11:4). However, the explicit employment of the word “lamb” (as distinct from the greater category of “sheep” or “shepherd”) first appears later in Genesis, when Abraham set apart seven ewe lambs from his herd as a gift to seal a treaty agreement, securing his legal right to dwell in the land God had provided (Gen. 21:28).

From that point on, God’s gracious provision becomes the characterizing factor of the image, as evident almost immediately in the testing of Abraham’s faith, when God instructed him to sacrifice his only son, Isaac, as a burnt offering:

Isaac spoke to Abraham his father, and said, “My father?” He said, “Here I am, my son.” He said, “Here is the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” Abraham said, “God will provide himself the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” (Gen. 22:7-8).

And God did indeed provide a “ram” (male sheep), caught by its horns in a nearby thicket, as a substitutionary sacrifice (Gen. 22:13).

Next we read of Isaac’s son, Jacob, greatly prospering due to his genetic manipulation of his father-in-law’s flocks and the direct intervention of God (who soon thereafter renamed Jacob “Israel”—father of His chosen people; Gen. 30:40; Gen. 32:28).

The very next mention of a lamb in the Bible is in the context of the Passover, a pivotal event in Israel’s history. The Jews, long enslaved in Egypt and crying out for their freedom, had watched as nine plagues wracked the country. Now Moses instructed each Israelite family to kill a lamb and eat its roasted flesh, then sprinkle its blood on the household doorposts to provide protection from death when God killed their captors’ firstborn in the final plague, which “passed over” the Israelites (Exod. 12:3-5ff). The Lord delivered His people to freedom, and thereafter—throughout the Old Testament in a continuous and elaborate cycle of sacrifice—a year-old male lamb without spot or blemish acted as a substitution for sin, its flesh consumed by the people for sustenance, its blood thrown against the altar for atonement (2 Chron. 29:22).

But God despised the persistent rebellion of His children and eventually told them that He “did not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of goats” offered in hypocrisy. Instead He wanted “obedience” (that is, positive volition accompanying informed willingness) and a contrite heart (Isa. 1:11; Isa. 1:19; Ps. 51:16-17). In a picture all red and white, He spoke through His prophet Isaiah to promise a coming redemption that would once-for-all satisfy His demand for the shedding of blood necessary for forgiveness:

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. 1:18)

The prophesied Servant-Messiah was further described by Isaiah:

He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth. (Isa. 53:7)

Seven centuries later the Saviour-Lamb was announced clearly by John the Baptist in the early words of his gospel, as he one day watched Jesus walking towards him:

“Behold [calling special attention] , the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29)

The religious leaders, steeped in Old Testament tradition and Scripture, would have known exactly what John meant in referring to Isaiah’s description: Jesus was Messiah—the fulfillment of the Old Testament prophecies and of the whole sacrificial system. Indeed, it was during the Passover that they crucified Him—perhaps during the same hour that the blood flowed from the lambs being slaughtered for the yearly festivity on the Temple Mount.

Then, after Jesus’ resurrection from the dead, the words of Isaiah about the lamb led to slaughter—read by the Ethiopian eunuch sitting in his chariot on a desert roadside between Jerusalem and Gaza—were expounded by Philip to bring about that court official’s salvation (Isa. 53:7-8; Acts 8:32-35).“He is our Passover Lamb,” Paul declared, and Peter reiterated that Christ was the “Lamb without blemish or spot” (1 Cor. 5:7; 1 Pet. 1:19).

Most New Testament occurrences of the image of Christ as the Lamb occur in Revelation—the culmination of all biblical books bringing to a conclusion every prophecy in a grand unveiling of Jesus as Lord. Someday all creatures “in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea” will raise their voices in praise to the worthy “Lamb who was slain” (Rev. 5:12). This heavenly scene is very different from the scenario to happen on earth during the end times, when God’s enemies will “make war on the Lamb, and the Lamb will conquer them” (Rev. 17: 14).

Meanwhile, the Church—the Bride of Christ—must today prepare herself for the Marriage Supper of the Lamb, for Jesus is coming to take us to our wedding feast with Him (Rev. 19:7). In the closing act of God’s Word, all believers—whose names are written in the “Lamb’s book of life”—will worship and serve the Lamb on the throne of God forever (Rev. 21:27; Rev. 22:1-3).

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HEART

Geppetto carved Pinocchio out of a piece of enchanted firewood that came from a tree the old man had engraved, many years before, with the initials of his one true love enclosed within a heart. I think that’s illegal in most parks nowadays! But whether sprayed as graffiti or tattooed onto flesh or inserted into an email, the symbol of the heart unmistakably represents the cultural message of love.

In the Bible, the word “heart” (OT leb, NT kardia) appears more than 800 times, its meaning much broader than our current understanding of the heart as, primarily, the receptacle of feelings. Instead Scripture speaks of the heart in reference to the core of the whole personality—the seat of emotions, intellect, will (making up the “soul”), and spirit (the capacity to relate to God).

Emotions: The heart is the storehouse of our feelings. Recall how the hearts of Joseph’s brothers trembled in fear when they discovered money hidden in their sacks, implicating them in theft from Egypt’s royal coffers (Gen. 42:28. See also Job 37:1; Isa. 35:4; 1 Sam. 4:13; John 14:27). Isaiah drew a picture of God’s mothering comfort that caused hearts to rejoice, and Jesus continued this maternal theme in promising His disciples a future joy like that attending birth (Isa. 66: 13-14; John 16:21-22). The writer of Ecclesiastes didn’t deny his heart any pleasure and, indeed, God satisfies hearts with food and gladness (Eccl. 2:10; Acts 14:17). Hearts can be filled with murderous rage, bitter jealousy, selfish ambition, lust, and other evil passions that defile (Matt. 15:19; Rom. 1:24; James 3:14). Alternately, the heart’s sexual desire can be pure; praise and merriment are sometimes vices (as attended Samson’s downfall at Delilah’s hand); and anger is a virtue of God’s heart necessary to His holiness (Song of Sol 5:2-4; Judg. 16:23-25; Matt. 22:7). Our hearts can be troubled or find rest (John 14:1; Luke 24:38; Col. 3:15). Paul, who bore sorrow and unceasing anguish in his heart, also told of the heart’s capacity for compassion, kindness, and selflessness in regarding others’ spiritual well-being (Rom. 9:2; Rom. 10:1). He admonished us to make room in our hearts, throwing them wide open to other believers so that the saints would be refreshed (2 Cor. 7:2-3; Philem. 1:7). Above all, love is to rule our hearts, as the first commandment and Jesus’ own dictum demand (Deut. 6:5; Matt. 22:37-39). So we see that the heart represents emotions; yet, in the New Testament, the heart predominantly refers to the intellect.

Intellect: The heart is where thinking happens. (The word for “brain” isn’t even found in the original Bible languages, and “head” is used in reference to the skull or to indicate a position of authority or submission). It is, therefore, the heart that reasons and perceives (Mark 2:6-8). The heart is able to understand what the eyes see and ears hear, and can remember or disregard the truth about God (Deut. 29:2-4; Deut. 8:3-5; Deut. 4:9; Deut. 8:14; Deut. 9:4; Job 22:22). King Solomon prayed for a heart (that is, leb, often translated as “mind”) able to judge between good and evil (1 Kings 3:9; 1 Kings 4:29; see also Job 38:36). To his ruination, prideful Haman thought he’d outsmart his godly enemies and told himself (transliteration: “said in his leb”) that he was about to be honoured (Esther 6:6). Others were likewise intellectually misled by their arrogant hearts (Deut. 7:17; Matt. 24:48; Rev. 18:7). Both Daniel and Jesus’ mother, Mary, temporarily stored in their hearts the secrets God revealed to them (Dan. 7:28; Luke 2:19). Knowledge, wisdom, and prudence, are all activities that take place in the heart (Prov. 2:10; Prov. 8:12; Jer. 3:15).

The intellectual functioning of the imagination also dwells in the heart—which God warns is deceitful and so damaged by sin that it’s able of itself to blind us, and is untrustworthy as a source of truth, for “out of the heart come evil and incorrect thoughts” (Jer. 9:13-14; 1 Cor. 2:9; Jer. 17:9; Mark 7:21). But God hasn’t disregarded, or left without His influence, the intellectual functioning of our hearts; first we recognize that He exists through logical observation of nature and the code of ethics He’s etched upon every human heart (Rom. 1:20-21; Rom. 2:15). Next, rational study of God’s written Word helps us “set our minds on” (or “live by” or “think about” or “understand,” depending on the translation) the things of the Spirit (Rom. 3:2; Rom. 10:14; Rom. 8:5). It is with our hearts that we learn about and then believe for salvation in Jesus as the Living Word (2 Tim. 3:16; Rom. 10:9-10). God invites us to know and serve Him wholeheartedly with our minds (1 Chron. 28:9).

Will: The heart’s feeling and thinking, then, are accompanied by volition—that is, the conscious act of choosing, intending, or resolving. (It’s important to remember that we cannot apply our will without our intellect.) The heart decides what actions to take in such matters as finances, love, and leadership (it came to Moses’ heart, for example to leave his princely chambers and visit his enslaved brothers) (2 Cor. 9:7; 1 Cor. 7:37; Acts 7:23; cf., Exod. 2:11). The heart contrives wicked plots like Simon the Sorcerer’s bribe or Ananias and Sapphira’s lies (Acts 8:20-22; Acts 5:4). The heart’s priorities show up in the person’s actions, for sincerity and purity are produced in a willing heart and evil intention yields its own fruit (Eph. 6:5-6; Matt. 5:8; Luke 6:43-45). The heart can be stubborn or full of integrity, hardened like the heart of Pharaoh or receptive to truth (Jer. 5:23; Ps. 101:2; Exod. 4:21; Col. 3:2). The will of the predisposed heart might be corrupted by Satan or persuaded by God (John 13:2; Rev. 17:17). A person’s character is formed by life choices; David (a “man after God’s own heart” who willfully kept God’s commands) was anointed king despite his unlikely appearance, for “the Lord looks on the heart” (1 Sam. 13:14; 1 Sam. 16:7). Even the heart of God wills and plans, disclosing His purposes to us as He executes His intentions (1 Cor. 4:5; Jer. 23:20).

Spirit: The human spirit yearns for divine meaning, and the heart is where God meets us. Often the idea of heart or spirit is parallel to attitude, our habit of thinking that results in an orientation towards a subject. At first, without the light of the Gospel of Christ shining in hearts that are darkened and dull and blinded by the god of this world, we are spiritually perishing (2 Cor. 4:6; John 3:16; Rom. 1:21; Acts 28:27). In this natural state, we tend towards sklerokardia (from which we get the English word “cardiosclerosis”) as unbelief and ignorance prevent spiritual growth (Matt. 19:8; Mark 10:5; Mark 16:14; Eph. 4:18; 1 Cor. 2:14). God rejects the hypocrisy of religious formalism as the answer to our spiritual dilemma, for true faith is an attitude of the heart (Isa. 29:13; Deut. 10:16; Rom. 2:29; Rom. 10:8-9). God reveals Himself to our hearts through relationship with Him; He opens the heart to spiritual truth, cleanses our hearts, and calls us by His Son to be His children (1 Cor. 2:9-10; Acts 15:9; Acts 16:14; Eph. 1:18; Gal. 4:6). The heart that hides God’s Word within avoids sin, obeys God, honours Christ, is established in holiness, and is fruitful (Ps. 119:11; Rom. 6:17; 1 Pet. 3:15; 1 Tim. 1:5; Luke 8:15).The heart is convicted, tested, and sealed (1 Cor. 14:24-25; 1 Thess. 2:4; 2 Cor. 1:22). It is into our hearts that God pours His love by the Spirit, and from pure hearts that we are to love one another (Rom. 5:5; 1 Pet. 1:22).

Beyond doubt, the symbol of the heart so extensively employed in the Bible offers a comprehensive picture of the nonmaterial, inner aspects of the individual, and none of these categories can be separated from the others. The heart accommodates emotion, intellect, volition, and spirit, and is where personhood comes together. “Love” is a constant attribute of all four aspects: Our hearts feel love, think lovingly, choose to love, and spiritually experience love. The apostle Paul prayed that God might strengthen believers through the Holy Spirit in our inner beings, and that Christ—who roots and establishes us in love—would dwell in (that is, “be at home in” or “be at the very center of”) our hearts, so that we’d have power to grasp (with our whole selves) the immensity of Jesus’ love for us (Eph. 3:16-19).

SNOW

In the 2008 drama/thriller Transsiberian, an American man and woman travelling on a train from Beijing to Moscow enter the world of drugs and murder, the whole film set in a snowscape as deep and depressing as any Canadian winter I’ve ever lived through. Perhaps my southern neighbours enjoy the flurry they might receive around Christmas, enough for the kids to build a snowman that melts dreamily away. But digging one’s way through drifts after a January blizzard to start a frozen car engine is too often the nightmarish reality for those living above the 49^th parallel, so that snow for many northerners has come to symbolize frigid misery.

But the culture of Bible lands and times offers a different perspective. Scripture mentions snow about two dozen times—and no wonder, in that hot and arid region where a snowfall was as newsworthy as the feat of a valiant man killing a lion (2 Sam. 23:20). Snow did glisten from far-off mountaintops and crags in Lebanon, and is recorded as having fallen on the heights near Shechem—refreshing in its coolness (Ps. 68:14; Jer. 18:14; Prov. 25:13). But several early occurrences of the word “snow” in the Bible are applied in negative descriptions of diseased and leprous skin, and a disappointed Job referred to the inconstancy of his “friends” in terms of their being undependable as snowmelt that swelled the spring streams but dried up in the summer’s heat (Exod. 4:6; Num. 12:10; 2 Kings 5:27; Job 6:15-16). Snow is an enemy of the homemaker responsible for the comfort of her family, and is a disruption as unfitting in summer as honour is unfitting to a fool (Prov. 31:21; Prov. 26:1).

A more positive pattern of the image emerges as we read on in the Bible. First we see God’s all-encompassing power: He alone is the master over creation, even telling the snow to fall from the great storehouses of the sky, giving snow like wool and scattering hoarfrost like ashes (Job 37:6; Job 38:22; Ps. 147:16). Snow and mist and stormy wind fulfill the Creator’s Word (Ps. 148:8).

Not only God’s power but His provision is indicated by the Bible’s reference to snow, which both washes and feeds us. The snow coming down from heaven at the Creator’s command waters the earth, its fleecy whiteness synonymous with purity and inner cleansing (Job 9:30; Ps. 51:7; Lam. 4:7):

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. 1:18 ESV)

This physical moisture upon the earth also causes seeds to sprout for the production of bread, and as author-God uses cleansing of the exterior body as a prelude to explaining cleansing of the interior, so He compares the action of feeding our mouths with feeding us spiritual food. As snow affords physical life, God’s Word goes out into the earth to bring about spiritual life through its cleansing and nurturing action (Isa. 55:10). Biblical literature, then, seems to compare snow with God’s Word; the purification and nourishment afforded by snow also picture the washing of the Word and the nourishment of spiritual life.

Indeed, a further connection between cleansing and eating might be made by looking at the metaphor of the wedding feast (signifying entry into God’s presence), for which the guests must be properly attired or suffer rejection (Matt. 22:11-14). At the marriage supper of the Lamb, the Bride (that is, the Church) is described as wearing “fine linen, bright and pure,” having been “cleansed by the washing of water with the word” and presented to Christ “in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing . . . holy and without blemish” (Rev. 19:7-9; Eph. 5:26-27 ESV).

Finally, the eschatological occurrences of the image of snow in Scripture point to the deity of Jesus. Daniel, in his end-times vision, described the “Ancient of Days” (Almighty God) with hair like pure wool and clothing as white as snow—wool and snow synonymous with holiness (Dan. 7:9). An angelic messenger wearing snowy-white robes and sent from the presence of the Father heralded the resurrection of the Son (Matt. 28:3). In the book of Revelation—the climax and conclusion of all prophecies—Jesus Himself is described in terms paralleling the purity and eternity of the Ancient of Days, with hair “like white wool, like snow” (Rev. 1:14). Jesus—both Living Water and Sacrifical Lamb, source of all cleansing and spiritual nurture—will finally and eternally be revealed to all and glorified as God. Then every knee will bow to Him and every tongue confess that He is the all-powerful Lord, and we—cleansed and forgiven—will dine together at His eternal table of fellowship forever (Phil. 2:10-11; 1 Thess. 4:17).

STAR

Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight, I wish I may, I wish I might, have the wish I wish tonight . . .

Why is it that, since antiquity, mankind has wistfully looked upwards for answers to the human dilemma? Take the Greeks, who sought wisdom in the skies and assigned the fate of mortals to the whimsy of the gods and goddesses of Olympus.

Unlike ancient mythologies that invented astrological systems to predict and explain our destiny, the biblical record honours human longings for the divine by introducing us to the Starmaker Himself. An overview of the Bible’s use of star imagery can be arranged under the categories of creation, covenant, and the coming of God to man.

Creation: In the beginning, God set in place the stars that to this day flash forth His transcendent glory (Gen. 1:16; Ps. 8:3; Ps. 148:3; Job 22:12). He alone stretched out the heavens, for

He is the Maker of the Bear and Orion, the Pleiades and the constellations of the south (Job 9:9 ESV).

The Hebrew patriarchs saw God mirrored in His celestial handiwork. Joseph, for example, dreamed prophetically of the stars, and David praised God’s enduring love displayed in the brilliant night sky (Gen. 37:9; Ps. 136:5-9). Job spoke of the morning stars singing as angels shouted for joy at God’s laying of the earth’s foundations (Job 38:7). The Creator and Maker is radically different from lifeless idols fashioned by the pagans after the star-gods; through prophets He warned His people against the idolatry of “stargazing” (Amos 5:26; Deut. 18:10-11; Dan. 4:7; Isa. 47:12-13). After all, Jehovah was the One who created the stars and called them each by name (Isa. 40:26; Ps. 136:5-9; Ps. 147:4).

Covenant: After displaying His existence in the firmament through creation, God further revealed Himself to the Jewish people with two special covenants. In the first, He promised Abraham descendants as numerous as the stars (Gen. 15:5). In a second covenant, God came down from above and met Moses on Mount Sinai to promise that Israel would be His treasured possession (Exod. 19:5-6). Yet even as the finger of God etched the Ten Commandments on tablets of stone for Moses on the mountain, the sons of Jacob on the plain below were worshipping the Golden Calf—believed by some to represent a god of the skies or an astrological figure (Deut. 9:9-11; Acts 7:43). Again and again God’s chosen people broke relationship with Him, but a third covenant was on its way—a new day was dawning (Mal. 3:7; Mal. 4:2).

Coming of God to man: An interruption occurred in the writing of Scripture; for four hundred years, no prophet was sent by God to the Jews. Then God’s revelation of Himself took a drastic turn when He sent us His Son—Someone from beyond the heavens to walk upon the earth! No longer was God satisfied to reveal Himself only in creation and covenantal Word. This coming of God to man in judgment and mercy is illustrated again through star imagery, beginning with prophecies early in the Bible that bear eschatological overtones (regarding the “Day of the Lord”).

The biblical Day of the Lord (or Yahweh) refers to a time of judgment with a temporal aspect (wars or natural disasters taking place at the time of writing) as well as a future fulfillment to culminate at the return of Jesus Christ, when the entire world will quake and great disturbances in the sky will attend God’s execution of His divine wrath (Amos 5:18-20; Joel 2:31; Rev. 6:13; Rev. 8:10-12). For an example of this judgment, the Israelites facing the military aggression of the mighty Moabites were assured victory in a prophetic statement that had a two-part implementation: “A star shall come forth from Jacob” spoke of victory in their current war as well as final victory in Christ over the confusion and turmoil of spiritual death (Num. 24:17; Matt. 2:2). This already-but-not-yet tone is echoed in Isaiah, who employed the picture of the star in several of his oracles (used again in the New Testament), forecasting the fall of God’s enemies in that day, as well as in a future-to-us day when stars will dissolve during catastrophic events as God judges or delivers the people of the earth (Isa. 13:10; Isa. 34:2-4; Matt. 24:29). The Lord, who “fixed the order of the moon and stars,” promised Jeremiah that someday His law would no longer be relegated to Moses’ stone tablets but would be written on human hearts and minds—a prophecy fulfilled through Christ in the New Covenant (Jer. 31:33-37; Luke 22:20). Ezekiel lamented the darkness of the ninth plague against Pharaoh, when God covered the heavens and darkened the stars, in a description that sounds, again, like the cataclysmic signs to accompany the Day of the Lord (Ezek. 32:7; Luke 21:25). Daniel, too, used star-lit imagery in speaking of this future day of purification, resurrection, and restoration (Dan. 12:3).

The star is used to symbolize people, as well. Paul wrote that believers will shine like the stars forever and ever, each a “star differing in glory” (1 Cor. 15:41). Apostate teachers in the church are “wandering stars” for whom the gloom of darkness has been reserved forever (Jude 1:13). The seven stars Christ now holds in His hand are leaders of churches under His care (Rev. 1:16; Rev. 1:20; Rev. 2:1; Rev. 2:28; Rev. 3:1). Lucifer, who planned to rise above the stars, became himself a star fallen from Heaven, and twelve stars represent the twelve sons of Jacob (Isa. 14:12-13; Rev. 9:1; Rev. 12:1).

One of the most recognized New Testament icons, the star appears yearly to us today as we decorate our Christmas trees. The original Star of Bethlehem brought the Magi from the East to worship the King of the Jews (Matt. 2:7-10; foretold in Num. 24:17and Isa. 60:2-3). This baby Jesus, born in a stable two millennia ago, is the Lord of glory, the root and descendant of David, the bright morning star (Rev. 22:16). In the coming of Christ we find all covenants fulfilled; in Him we find ourselves a new creation. We need no longer gaze at the stars above in wishful thinking, for now

we have the prophetic Word made more sure . . . a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star arises in [our] hearts (2 Pet. 1:19 NASB).

PERFUME

Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, and waste its sweetness on the desert air.

—Thomas Gray, “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard”

Several years ago, I visited a perfumery museum in southern France housing glass flasks and wooden vats and antique copper stills that retained the breath of essence from long-ago steeping of blossoms collected in the surrounding fields—roses and lavender, mimosa and jasmine. To this day a whiff of French cologne carries me away.

Scent is a powerful stimulant, and it’s little wonder that God appeals to the olfactory system when drawing us into His Word. The earliest Bible stories tell of camel caravans bearing exotic-smelling cargo from Arabia and Asia and Africa for barter and peace offering: herbs and spices, leaves and bark and “tears” of tree resin, seeds, fruits, and flowers (Gen. 37:25; Gen. 43:11). People of the Near East placed high commercial value on these wares, worthy of a king’s treasury (2 Kings 20:13; Rev. 18:11-13). In fact the Queen of Sheba, overwhelmed by King Solomon’s wisdom and wealth, honoured him with the greatest contribution of spices ever made to Israel’s trove (1 Kings 10:10). Esteemed guests would be sprinkled with fragrant waters of hospitality as a token of friendship, then feast on banquets aromatic with anise, cumin, and the cinnamon-like cassia (Ps. 23:5; Matt. 23:23; Isa. 28:25-27).

In everyday life, perfume was used largely for medicinal, funerary, and cosmetic purposes, prepared by male and female apothecaries who formed a guild during the restoration of Jerusalem (Neh. 3:8; 1 Sam. 8:13). Scented salves using the pungent Balm of Gilead (obtained by “wounding” the balsam tree) and preparations incorporating the minty hyssop were prescribed for cleansing wounds and curing eye infections, and often symbolized spiritual healing as well (Lev. 14:2-7; Isa. 1:4-6; Jer. 8:22; Jer. 51:8; Rev. 3:18). Bodies of the deceased and their linen grave clothes were customarily treated with infusions; in fact the presentation by the Magi of royal myrrh to young Jesus prophesied His eventual death and burial (2 Chron. 16:14; Matt. 2:11; Luke 23:56; John 19:38-39). On a lighter note, Ruth splashed on eau de toilette before her first date with Boaz, and Esther underwent a year-long aromatherapy session in preparation for the world’s greatest beauty contest (Ruth 3:3; Esther 2:12). And we can almost sniff our way through the romantic poetry of Solomon (Song 1:3; Song 3:6; Song 4:10; Song 7:8; Song 7:13)!

Pragmatics and aesthetics aside, Scripture uses the image of perfume to illustrate proper worship of a holy God. It starts with Noah exiting the ark with his family and his zoo to offer a burnt animal sacrifice, the first of many sacrifices throughout the Old Testament, and its odour rose to the heavens to please the Lord (Gen. 8:18-21; Exod. 29:18; Ezek. 16:19; Ezek. 20:41). Jacob awoke from his ladder dream and propped his stone pillow up as a memorial pillar, daubing it with scented oil in gratitude for God’s grace (Gen. 28:18). Soon after, God gave a recipe for this sacred anointing oil to be used, along with pure incense, during tabernacle worship in setting apart people and objects for His special use (Exod. 30:22-38; Exod. 37:29). He declared His chosen people, Israel, acceptable as a sweet savour brought out from among the nations (Ezek. 20:41). For generations scented smoke hovered above the Ark of the Covenant and billowed out from the Holy of Holies in a miniature replica of the Sinai cloud of God’s Shekinah-glory, until one day during the “time of incense” an angel announced that the priestly prayers of the ages were coming to fruition (Luke 1:8-13). The old was giving way to the new.

The Messiah was born in a cave and laid in a manger surrounded, I’m sure, by the heady musk of freshly cut straw (Luke 2:7). Not only myrrh but regal frankincense was presented to the child Jesus—one of the ingredients in the holy oil used in worship and prophetically bespeaking His salvific deity (Isa. 60:1-6; Matt. 2:11). Near the end of Jesus’ short life of ministry, at a dinner given in His honour, in an act of devotion Mary bathed His feet with costly nard poured from an alabaster jar, the ambrosia filling the room in a picture of the sacrifice the Lord’s Anointed was about to make upon the cross of crucifixion (John 12:1-3; Acts 10:38; Luke 4:18). A branch of hyssop—brushed over Passover door lintels and cast upon the slaughtered red heifer and symbolizing salvation—carried a sponge of wine vinegar up to Jesus’ lips as He suffered (Exod. 12:22; Num. 19:6; Heb. 9:18-19; Ps. 51:7; John 19:29). Thus the Great Physician became our healing Balm of Gilead; our High Priest cleansed our sins as with the hyssop of His mercy, giving Himself up as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God on our behalf (Eph.5:2).

Our fitting response is to continually offer the “sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge His name” (Heb.13:15 ESV). The heavenly creatures will someday bow before the Lamb, holding golden bowls full of the prayers of the saints, a burning incense going up before God (Rev.5:8; Rev. 8:4). Not only sacrifice and prayer, but we Christians ourselves emanate the bouquet of holiness as we spread the savour of godly knowledge, for we are the pleasing aroma of Christ and the fragrance of life (Ezek. 20:41; 2 Cor. 2:14-16).

Hardly what one might describe as wasting our sweetness on the desert air, Mr. Gray!

BIRD

INN

WITCH

HAND

FRIEND

CUP

SALT

LIGHT

LAMP

CLOTHING (NT)

CLOTHING

RAINBOW

CHAIR

HOUSE

ROAD

LAMB

HEART

SNOW

STAR

PERFUME

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