Interpretation in Practice: Studying God's Word PDF

part three INTERPRETATION IN PRACTICE In the first part of this book, we looked at how our presuppositions and general knowledge provide a context within which we can understand the Bible. In the second part, we discussed in a theoretical way what is involved in interpretation. Now we are ready to r...

part three INTERPRETATION IN PRACTICE In the first part of this book, we looked at how our presuppositions and general knowledge provide a context within which we can understand the Bible. In the second part, we discussed in a theoretical way what is involved in interpretation. Now we are ready to raise questions of how we interpret, questions of method and technique. But it should be clear that technique is not the solution to every problem. Technique only facilitates reaching our goals, and unless the goals are the right ones, technique will only make it easier to get to the wrong interpretation. Nevertheless, technique, or method, can offer some controls, and can help give interpretive guidance on specific texts. Method provides clarity and consistency, and often yields new insights into Scripture, so chapter 7 will give a general outline of steps to take in exegesis. But general guidelines often will not meet the specific requirements of specific texts. The Bible is made up of several different kinds of literature, and each kind of literature, or genre, requires its own special treatment. Chapter 8 will therefore discuss the most important broad categories of writings in the Bible.  7 STUDYING GOD'S WORD SPIRITUAL PREPARATION It is an interesting experience to meet the author of a book while in the middle of reading it. The book suddenly becomes much more alive and personal, because the reader can hear the author speaking in it. In order for the Bible to communicate with us in this living and personal way, we must know God and hear him speaking in it. Thus, one of the very first things any Christian should do to understand Scripture is to prepare the heart to hear and submit to God. To fail to come in this way is to have a veil over one's mind, as Paul puts it in 2 Corinthians 3:15. Although the true sense of Scripture may be ascertained by analysis, hearing and submitting to that sense will only happen if the Spirit is at work within us. Furthermore, without this spiritual hearing, it is quite possible that, after all our analysis, we may miss the true sense of a text. A book may contain wonderful insights on the meaning and background of biblical texts, and yet miss altogether the spiritual import of the passages it professes to interpret. Study is useless if the reader does not first submit to Scripture's author, expecting to hear God's voice and obey it. Luther put it rather strongly: You must, therefore, straightway renounce your own sense and understanding, for with these you will not attain the truth, but only with your own presumption precipitate yourself, and others along with you, from heaven into the abyss of hell, as happened to Lucifer. On the contrary, kneel down in your chamber and pray with real humility and earnestness to God to give you, through His dear Son, the Holy Ghost to enlighten, guide and instruct you.1 Luther tended to overstate things. Understanding Scripture does not mean totally renouncing your own sense and understanding; certainly Luther did not do so (see chap. 4, under "The Reformation: Luther and Calvin"). But, practically speaking, a Christian does need to ask God to reveal the meaning of a text to him, not in order to avoid the labor of exegesis or to get some guarantee of correctness, but in recognition that all genuine insight comes from God's hand. In the parable of the sower it was given to the disciples to know the secrets of the kingdom, but to others it was not given. Why? Because they asked Jesus the meaning of the parable (Luke 8:9). And as the psalmist says, "Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD? And who shall stand in his holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart" (Ps. 24:3-4). Any endeavor to understand God's word should begin with a sincere petition to God to "open my eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law" (Ps. 119:18). ANALYZING PASSAGES Dependence on God for exegesis does not mean that no labor is involved in gaining understanding. The Holy Spirit sanctifies us, but not without our struggling (and sometimes failing) to be holy; similarly, the Holy Spirit leads us into truth, but not without our struggling (and sometimes failing) to interpret correctly. Analysis, the first stage in the struggle to interpret, is the practice of grammatical-historical exegesis. It is the foundational work needed to distance ourselves from the human author, bridge that distance, and then appropriate his meaning into our own interpretive framework. Unfortunately, even this beginning analysis is not a scientifically precise operation. Everyone who has had to learn "rules" of language has also had to learn that there are always exceptions to the rules, and since exegesis is dealing with language, its rules are not precise. This is not a chapter of rules, but one of guidelines to the art of exegesis. USING TRANSLATIONS The first item on the exegetical agenda must be to select what version of the Bible to use. Naturally, for readers who know Greek or Hebrew, the original-language text should be foremost on the desk. But those who do not know the original languages need not despair, because the best English translations generally encapsulate the best that modern scholarship has to offer. Even those who know Greek and Hebrew well often benefit by referring to English translations. What are the best English translations? Some say that a Bible translation should be "literal"; others say that it should be "dynamic." A literal translation strives to preserve as much as possible of the grammatical structure of the original, and attempts to match up Greek or Hebrew words to a few English equivalents, and then stick with these equivalents as much as possible. This has the advantage of conveying to the reader a sense of the flow and style of the original, and keeps interpretive decisions about what a passage means to a minimum, allowing the reader to make such decisions. It also enables the reader to see some of the verbal connections and "plays on words" that are apparent in the original. The disadvantage is that sometimes a literal rendering makes no sense at all in En-glish, which leads to confusion or unsound exegesis, and even when a literal rendering makes sense, that sense may be different in En-glish than in the original.2 An example of a literal translation is the New American Standard Version, or, to a much lesser extent, the so-called Authorized (King James) Version.3 The dynamic approach relinquishes any hope of conforming to the original grammatical structure and makes no attempt to provide a word-for- word translation; it tries to reproduce the sense of whole sentences by constructing "dynamically equivalent" sentences in the target language. This has the advantage of conveying the meaning of sentences much more clearly than the literal type. On the other hand, since the translator must make more decisions about what the sentences in fact do mean, the reader is somewhat less able to see what alternative meanings may be possible. Possibly the best examples of dynamic translation are the (occasionally hazardous) New English Bible and its more evenhanded revision, the Revised English Bible. Also, the dynamic translation of the NT by J. B. Phillips, while idiosyncratic, is frequently unsurpassed in clarity and forcefulness. Most modern translations fall somewhere in between the literal and dynamic extremes. Two well-known and excellent examples are the Revised Standard Version (RSV) and the New International Version (NIV). The NIV, which was finished in the 1970s, is somewhat more on the dynamic side. The RSV, which was published in 1952, is more literal, and preserves much of the literary elegance of the KJV. Two independent updates of the RSV have recently appeared: the New Revised Standard Version (NRSV, 1989), and the English Standard Version (ESV, 2001).4 Although all four of these versions evince occasional bias in their translating decisions (how could they do otherwise?), they are almost always reliable in conveying to En-glish readers the sense (or at least one of the possible senses), and to some extent the form, of the originals. The reader may use these translations with a great deal of confidence, especially if more than one is used. All of them were prepared by teams of scholars who generally kept each other in check and limited the degree to which questionable or idiosyncratic translations occur. When we read these versions, we may be confident that they indeed convey the word of God- not perfectly, but certainly faithfully. With this in mind, we recommend that the student who does not know Greek and Hebrew use at least two English translations. Those with original languages, even those who are highly competent, are advised to use a translation along with their original texts. At the very least, a dynamic or mixed translation will indicate what some excellent and knowledgeable scholars thought the original meant. THE GRAMMATICAL SIDE OF EXEGESIS: DISCOURSE, SENTENCE, AND WORD It is arguable that, before analyzing the passage itself, one should examine its historical and cultural background. On the other hand, if the interpreter does not have some idea what the passage is talking about, he would not know what kind of background to look for. A careful interpreter will probably alternate between examining the passage itself and investigating its background. Some textbooks on exegesis start with the analysis of the words. This is not unreasonable, because sentences are composed of words, and the meaning of these words is obviously important to the meaning of the sentences. But although it is reasonable, there is a certain danger in that it is easy to become so enamored of the words that we forget the sentences in which they appear. Words designate only a few possible fields of potential meaning and function in relation to other words; they do not have meaning on their own. The meaning of a word is the result of an interaction of its fields of potential meaning with the context within which it is used. The context specifies the particular meaning of the word that is intended. So word studies must be carried out with their sentences in mind. Likewise, sentences should be understood within their paragraphs, and paragraphs within the basic complete unit of meaning, the "nuclear discourse," or all the material cohering around a particular subject or topic (see below).  Therefore, we recommend starting with a look at the discourse, working down to words, and then back up to discourse. Before doing any formal analysis, an interpreter should read through a large part of the biblical book within which the passage occurs, preferably the entire biblical book. While doing this, it is a good idea to ask oneself constantly, "Who, what, when, where, and how?" This will place the discourse context in the reader's mind and open up answers to the question, "Why?" Discourses. A paragraph is an interconnected group of sentences. A discourse is an interconnected group of paragraphs that forms an entire argument, development, explanation, story, or other unit. A discourse is characterized by a coherence that involves both sequence (order) and relation to a topic, and it is bounded by sentences that indicate its opening and the closing. Although there may be divergences from order and digressions from the topic at hand, the whole unit is tied together by sequence and topic. Thus, a discourse is usually understood to be the unit of complete meaning, with a beginning (introduction), middle (development, exposition, argument), and end (conclusion, summary).5 However, this definition is still somewhat open-ended. In a sense, the book of Isaiah comprises several discourses. The oracles against the nations in chapters 13-25 appear to be a discourse unit quite distinct from the woes and apocalyptic visions of chapters 26-35. And the narrative about Hezekiah in chapters 36-39 appears to be a different discourse than the servant songs of chapters 40-55. On the other hand, there is a unity of purpose and character to all of these subdiscourses that also unites the whole. Similarly, the epistles of the NT sometimes jump from topic to topic in an unrelated fashion and in no clear sequence, yet are also units of discourse held together by the fact that they are letters addressed to particular people and circumstances. Jesus' "parable discourse" in Matthew 13 appears to be a single sermon, comprising several parables that are themselves discourse units, but these are tied together by comments about the meaning and purpose of parables. And of course Matthew 13 is part of the larger discourse of the book of Matthew. Finally, the Bible as a whole, God's word (singular) to man, has a huge variety of material and topics, but is coherent in its primary subject matter (God's relationship to man) and an identifiable sequence. It has an introduction (Creation and the Fall), development (redemptive history), and a conclusion (the consummation in Revelation) that mark it as being in its entirety a single, though multiplex, discourse. Just as a complex sentence has many nuclear sentences or thought units within it, a complex discourse such as Isaiah or Matthew or the Bible as a whole has many identifiable nuclear discourses in it. Each nuclear discourse, or basic discourse, deals with a single topic or story and has a beginning, development, and a conclusion. It is the smallest unit that is classifiable according to genre. When studying the Bible to see what it has to say to us, the nuclear discourse is the unit we should work from. Naturally, we relate it to the larger discourses, and of course we study the smaller pieces, the paragraphs and sentences, that make up that discourse. But our questions of meaning should be directed at nothing smaller than the nuclear discourse. Although a Bible study or sermon may be concerned with a smaller unit, the discourse should control what we understand and glean from whatever smaller unit we study. Both to identify the boundaries of the nuclear discourse and to perceive its genre and internal development, the first thing to do is to identify its plot or structure. Stories have plots, with beginning, development, climax, and conclusion. Other discourses also have initiatory or introductory material, which marks it off from any previous material, a development, usually involving argument and/or explanation, and a conclusion, which wraps up the purpose of the discourse and marks a disjunction from any succeeding material. Most readers will have some help here. Frequently in the Bible, the chapter divisions will mark the breaks between discourse units. In the book of Daniel, for example, it is fairly easy to recognize the introductory sentences that give the historical setting-"In the year of the reign of " (1:1; 2:1; 7:1; 8:1; 9:1; 10:1)-or mention a different ruler (5:1; 6:1), and these changes occur at chapter breaks. But chapter divisions are not always such a good guide. For example, the conclusion of the opening discourse of Genesis 1 runs into chapter 2; the second nuclear discourse begins at 2:4. And in Colossians, Paul shifts from his opening doctrinal doxology to the subject of his sufferings and concern for his readers at 1:24, not at the beginning of chapter 2, and this subject in turn goes on past the chapter division to 2:6. Many modern translations have space breaks between discourse units, but these too should be examined carefully. They are usually better indicators than chapter divisions, but of course are not infallible. Within a discourse, as within paragraphs and sentences, it is helpful to pay attention to the connecting words that spell out how paragraphs are related: "for" and "because" (indicating cause), "however" and "but" (indicating contrast), "therefore" and "thus" (indicating conclusion), "furthermore" and "in addition" (indicating continuation), etc.6 These identify the purpose of particular paragraphs or sentences and serve as indicators of the progress, sequence, and structure of the development. One way of perceiving the flow of a discourse is to paragraph it. A paragraph is a group of related sentences. Just as a sentence may consist of subsentences that add, argue, specify, or elucidate, so a paragraph consists of sentences that add, argue, specify, and elucidate. Even more than sentences, paragraphs "say" something. Of course, the original text of the Bible was not marked into paragraphs; paragraphs and verses were added by later translators. It is an excellent exercise therefore to copy out the sentences of a text line by line without paragraphs, and then attempt to regroup the sentences into paragraphs. Doing this forces the reader to catch the meaning and flow of the text in question. It is useful to do paragraphing simultaneously with other students. Then, if most attempts at reparagraphing correspond to a high degree, especially when done by people who have never before seen the text in question, then one can be more confident that there is understanding. The meaning of sentences in relation to one another is "connecting" in the minds of the readers. One cannot paragraph without understanding. And the paragraph divisions show something of the discourse's structure.7 An extension of paragraphing is to place the paragraphs in a hierarchical relationship, and then also to subdivide paragraphs into smaller units. Outlining the structure of a passage is especially helpful if one pays attention to connecting words and discourse markers. Once an outline is in hand, the interpreter can see how any part of the discourse relates to the whole, or how a nuclear discourse relates to the entire discourse. This too helps in constructing the framework of understanding by which the meaning of a text is integrally perceived. For example, Ephesians 3 (like most of the book) seems to go on without a break, but the connecting phrase "for this reason" seems to mark a shift from one topic to the next, although it also draws the connection between topics. And verses 20-21 form a doxology which shifts subjects, although there is no clear marker as such. So Ephesians 3 could be broken up into two main parts, with a doxology at the end. By then examining what thematic content coheres within these units, yet marks them off from each other, we can identify their main subject and assign a title to the parts of this chapter: A. 3:1-13 Paul as minister to the Gentiles B. 3:14-19 Paul's thanksgiving and prayer C. 3:20-21 Concluding doxology By examining the content within these sections, we could further outline as follows: A. 3:1-13 Paul as minister to the Gentiles 1. 3:1-6 Paul is the recipient of God's mystery, that Gentiles are fellow heirs 2. 3:7-9 Paul's task is to make known the mystery 3. 3:10-12 So that the church might display God's wisdom and plan 4. 3:13 Therefore Paul's suffering is good B. 3:14-19 Paul's thanksgiving and prayer 1. 3:14-17a That Father, Son, and Spirit would strengthen and dwell in the Ephesians 2. 3:17b-19 That they may know the love of Christ C. 3:20-21 Doxology A discourse's genre is apprehended more intuitively. Sometimes the genre is specified, either explicitly (e.g., "So he told them this parable," or "The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ") or implicitly by formal indicators that are used only with specific genres (e.g., "Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy, to the church of the Thessalonians"). In Luke 10, it is not stated that the story of the good Samaritan is a parable, but we recognize it as such because Jesus is replying to a scribe's question with a story, ending with a question of application. The story presumably answers the scribe's question and is similar to other parables. We thus understand it as a parable, an illustrative teaching story, not a recounting of an actual event. But sometimes genre is identified only by setting, which means understanding and genre identification take place simultaneously. It is possible to misidentify a genre unless we hear the entire content and setting, which is why one should not try to interpret a text smaller than a complete nuclear discourse unit in its context. When Nathan told David the parable of the rich man who stole the poor man's sheep, David at first thought it was an actual event. Only when Nathan completed his discourse with the words "You are the man" did David correctly identify its genre and properly understand the story. As we noted in chapter 6, genre can be a difficult matter because we, unlike the original readers, may not be able to recognize the literary clues to genre in a text. But in our view this is not a common problem, and the difficulties ought not to be exaggerated. In chapter 8, we will examine some specific biblical genres. In addition to identifying a discourse's structure and genre, it is helpful to fill in the details. Basically, this means asking, "Who, what, when, where, why, and how?" In other words, one determines the reference of the discourse in order to get at the sense of it. Some of this involves the historical side of exegesis, but to a large degree, this is simply a matter of paying attention to what the sentences say. Sentences. The basic unit of verbal communication, of meaning, is the sentence. A sentence, unlike an isolated word, does something: it states, commands, requests, etc. But just as a word should be understood within the context of its sentence, so a sentence should be interpreted within the context of its paragraph and discourse. These identify the larger topic under discussion and the ultimate reason for the sentence. The most basic question an interpreter should ask about a sentence is, What does this sentence contribute to the overall discourse? Thus, when 1 John tells us that "God is love," this sentence says something about God. Outside of its context, it might be understood as an equation of God and love-and how many young Christians who are "in love" have rationalized disobedience to God's commands by appealing to the "fact" that God is love? But within its context, this statement is simply an indication of a certain attribute of God that Christians need to imitate, not a statement about God's essence. It tells us that, if God is in us, we will manifest his character by our love for one another; it does not say that if we feel love, then God is in us. Sentences can be quite long and complex (even more so in Greek than in English), and thus they repay closer looks. In grammar school, many of us learned to diagram sentences, and this may be helpful sometimes, but the grammatical structure may not always correspond to the semantic or "meaning" structure, or express the relationships between parts of a sentence very clearly. A better method of analyzing sentences is to break them down into what Cotterell and Turner call nuclear sentences or basic thought units.8 In other words, identify each "thought deed" in a sentence, and then see how they are linked or connected.9 Earlier we outlined the contents of Ephesians 3. Within this chapter, 3:14-19 (part B of the outline) is one sentence in the RSV: For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with might through his Spirit in the inner man, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fulness of God. A rough breakdown of this might be as follows:10 1 For this reason [because of what I said earlier], I bow my knees before the Father [i.e., I pray]. 2 [interjection] Every family in heaven and on earth is named from this Father. 3 (I pray) that he may grant you to be strengthened. 4 God grants according to the riches of his glory. 5 God strengthens people with might 6 His Spirit is the means by which God strengthens. 7 "In the inner man" is where the strengthening takes place. 8 And (I pray) that Christ may dwell in your hearts. 9 Christ dwells in hearts through faith. 10 The result of being strengthened is that you may be able to comprehend. 11 What is to be comprehended is the breadth and length and height and depth (of God's love). 12 Such comprehension is a result of the fact that you are rooted and grounded in love. 13 You should comprehend this together with all the saints. 14 Another effect of God's strengthening is to know the love of Christ 15 (even though) the love of Christ surpasses knowledge. 16 (This is desirable, because) to know Christ is to be filled with all the fullness of God. Breaking this down into its constituent nuclear sentences forced us to notice and resolve the relations between them. The relations are of four basic types: addition (which links elements of equal prominence, as in line 8), argumentation (which provides the grounds for another nuclear sentence; there is no example in this passage, but the "for this reason" in line 1 shows that what went before this passage is grounds for what follows), content specification (which gives further precision, as in line 11), and elucidation (which explains, as in line 9). Sometimes the links between the pieces are not perfectly clear. For example, "to know the love of Christ" (in line 14) might go back further to Paul's prayer, rather than to the strengthening, in which case line 14 would read, "I also pray that you might know the love of Christ." Also, "in the inner man" (line 7), which we took to be a content specification regarding God's strengthening (line 5), might rather be an elucidation of "through the Spirit," explaining how the Spirit's mediation works. Although these variations do not radically alter the sense, establishing the relationships between the nuclear sentences clarifies the sense and flow of the passage. Here is something to think about: Romans 1:17, Galatians 3:11, and Hebrews 10:37-38 all quote Habakkuk 2:4, "The just by faith shall live" (authors' translation). Does "by faith" go with "just" or with "shall live"? That is, does this sentence say that the one whose righteousness is by faith shall live, or does it say that the one who is righteous shall live according to faith? Words (and phrases). As with any discipline, controlling a subject entails paying close attention to detail. The details of a sentence are its words. There are three types of reference works that are useful for studying words. The most basic one is the dictionary. Greek and Hebrew students, of course, are familiar with Greek and Hebrew lexicons, which give a range of suggested English equivalents for various uses of the Greek and Hebrew words. But the user of an English translation should also be ready to acknowledge his deficiency if he is unsure of the meaning of an English word. An En-glish dictionary will clarify the possible meanings of a word, although again the reader must decide which of the possible meanings is appropriate in the context in which the word is found. Generally only one of a word's possible meanings is appropriate. The second reference work for word study is the concordance. A complete concordance lists the words that appear in the Bible in alphabetical order, and then lists each instance where that word appears. Some "complete" concordances may minimally list insignificant words such as personal pronouns and conjunctions. There are standard Greek and Hebrew concordances, but several of the major English versions also have concordances prepared for them. The King James Version has Cruden's,11 Strong's,12 and Young's.13 The Revised Standard Version has Nelson's14 and Eerdmans15 (and, for the NT only, Morrison's).16 The New American Standard Bible has the New American Standard Exhaustive Concordance.17 The New International Version has Goodrick and Kohlenberger.18 The concordance to the New Revised Standard Version was also prepared by Kohlenberger.19 In addition to these printed concordances, virtually all translations are now concordable through Bible study computer software (such as Logos™, Gramcord™, Bible Windows™, or Bible Works™). Naturally, the reader will benefit from having a concordance that corresponds to the version he or she most frequently uses. Many people use concordances to help them locate passages. But the primary purpose of a concordance is to assist in word study. For serious work, it is difficult for the English student to surpass Young's (for the KJV) and the new Eerdmans (for the RSV), which not only list all occurrences of every English word in the Bible, but do so according to what Greek or Hebrew (or Aramaic) words correspond to the English, and have indexes to enable the user to track down other locations of the Greek or Hebrew word, however translated. The "exhaustive" concordances for the KJV (Strong's), NASB, and NIV cover the ground perhaps even more thoroughly, in that they list every single word, including pronouns, conjunctions, etc., and include a key that identifies which Greek and Hebrew words are used, but in our opinion these are more difficult to use than the "analytical" concordances. Users of other versions can still use these concordances to track down how a Greek or Hebrew word is used in various contexts, and the software programs mentioned above can also index the underlying Greek and Hebrew words. As long as one bears in mind that the translators had good reasons for translating the same word differently in different contexts, such concordances are a tremendous help. For example, suppose one reads the commandment of Exodus 20:13, which the RSV translates "You shall not kill." A look at Young's will indicate that the word translated "kill" here is not the general or common term for "kill," and a look at other passages where this particular word is used will show that (1) it is always used of killing a human being, not an animal, (2) it is not used for killing in warfare, but only of one individual slaying another, and (3) it usually occurs in contexts that imply hatred or murder, although it can also be used for accidental manslaughter. This helps the reader perceive the meaning of the commandment. It does not prohibit the killing of animals, nor even the killing of humans in warfare; it prohibits murder.20 Of course, one could deduce this without reference to the original language or an analytical concordance, but the concordance does make it easier. Contrary to the advice of many textbooks on interpretation, in our opinion one should not spend a great deal of time on word study. In fact, a lot of dubious interpretation gets started this way. For this reason, before we leave the subject of words, it is appropriate to issue some warnings against certain improper methods of studying words.21 Error #1: Etymologizing. One of the most common forms of dubious exegesis is to treat the etymology of a word as somehow key to the real meaning of a passage. Although the history of a word is often related to its present meaning, it is not necessarily related. An undertaker is not "someone who undertakes," nor does he "take someone or something under." Butterflies fly, but have little to do with butter. And understanding is not "standing under." As we pointed out above (see p. 122), the history of how a word got to be what it is now is not the real question; rather, it is how the word is being used now. Even where the etymology is related to the meaning of a word, the user is hardly ever conscious of it. Do we really mean a "speaking place" when we talk about Parliament, or think of "coming together" when Congress is mentioned? A famous example of bad etymologizing is the treatment sometimes accorded the word hyperetes, which is translated "servants" in 1 Corinthians 4:1 (and elsewhere). This word is supposed by some to have been derived from hypo (meaning "under") and eresso (meaning "row"), so that the real meaning of the word here is said to be "under-rower," like the lower-level rowers of a trireme. The conclusion is drawn that Paul is likening the apostles to the very lowest level of slaves, and some sermons have even developed the theme of squalor and death in the triremes as somehow related to this passage. But the word, at least in Paul's time, had nothing to do with boats or rowing; it always referred to a servant acting as an assistant, often with the implication of delegated authority. The sentence of 1 Corinthians 4:1 is asking that the apostles be regarded as Christ's assistants, because they are "stewards of God's mysteries," that is, conveyors of the truth that God had formerly kept hidden, but now has revealed. The context of the paragraph demonstrates that Paul is certainly not trying to convey a lowly image of the apostles to the Corinthians. Another popular etymological conclusion is that the Greek word for "sin" means "missing the mark." That this is what it meant for Homer's archers six centuries before the NT is undoubted. It is unlikely, however, that the biblical authors saw sin as simply being a bit off target. Its usage is always in contexts demanding a meaning of "offending God." Such etymologizing of the Greek may not occur to the English Bible user, but readers may encounter such things in commentaries or sermons and be unduly impressed.22 Further, some etymologizing has even been done with English words. How many times has the meaning of the word atonement been specified by reference to its English etymology, "at-one- ment"? This may illustrate a certain aspect of the meaning, but hardly helps us identify what the biblical writers meant. Another kind of English etymologizing tries to define Greek words by reference to English words that are etymologically derived from them. This is unfortunately common even among the best preachers. The Greek word for "power" or "ability" is the source for the English "dynamite," so preachers love to talk about "God's dynamite power." This may add color to the concept, but the apostles did not conceive of God's power as something that blows things up. Another example is the word for "wrath," which is popularly (though incorrectly) thought to be etymologically related to the English word orgy. This is supposed to shed light on the intensity of God's wrath. But of course the English word orgy does not mean "wrath," but "uncontrolled sensual frenzy," with connotations of sexual abandon. God's wrath is neither uncontrolled nor sensual; the English word must not be allowed to determine the meaning or connotations of the Greek word from which it came.23 Finally, the Greek word for "cheerful" is the root for the English word hilarious, but 2 Corinthians 9:7 is not telling us that the "hilarious" giver is the one that the Lord loves, as though one has to be a comedian to give in a way that pleases God. Error #2: Finding a "basic core." Words that have more than one potential meaning often tempt a creative exegete to try to find the common ground that unites the multiple meanings. This sometimes ends up drawing emphasis away from the specific meaning a word has in its context, and stressing its more general or common meaning, as though, for example, the "Spirit of the Lord" (pneuma kyriou) really meant "master's breath." Certainly, in Jeremiah 18:11 ("I [the LORD] am shaping evil against you.... Return, every one from his evil way") the word "evil" has two distinct meanings. To try to come up with a single meaning for both occurrences could have dangerous results. Error #3: Totality transfer. Earlier we warned against confusing the meaning of a word with its reference or usage. A complementary error in word study is to assume that in a specific occurrence of a word, everything which that word can mean is brought into the sentence. James Barr calls this "illegitimate totality transfer."24 This is a particular temptation with theologically significant words. For example, the word flesh can mean either physical body (Ps. 38:3; Acts 2:31), human beings (Isa. 40:5; Matt. 24:2), humanness (John 1:14), meat (1 Kings 17:6; Prov. 23:20), genetic relatedness (Rom. 9:3), or sinful nature (Gal. 5:13). Totality transfer would allow us to read Romans 8:3 (NIV-"For what the law was powerless to do in that it was weakened by the sinful nature [flesh]...") and bring all the possible meanings of flesh to bear in that particular occurrence. Thus, we could say that the law is powerless because of our physical incapacity, that it is powerless to help humans, that it is powerless because meat is high in fats and cholesterol and weakens us, that it is powerless because we are genetically related to Adam, and that it is powerless because of our sinful nature. This may appear to be deriving a rich exegesis, but in fact it simply confuses things. Only one meaning, "sinful nature," is actually in view.25 Error #4: Overanalysis. Once the reader knows the ways in which a word was generally used, there is usually little problem in identifying the specific usage in the passage in question. Sometimes it is beneficial to wonder why the author uses one word rather than another one, but there may be no particular reason, other than stylistic preference or the fact that the author heard someone else use it more recently. Studies of close synonyms, like that of Trench, can be misleading. Authors rarely consider a range of possible synonyms for each word when they write. And when they do consider alternative words, it is more often for purposes of style or clarity than for precision. This is not to say that the exact words are unimportant, but words are only important because they make sentences. All the words that together make up a sentence must be considered together, not in isolation. One example of overanalysis that commonly appeals to Greek students is to distinguish between the verbs agapao and phileo, saying that the former refers to "divine, elective, altruistic love" or the like, and that the latter refers to ordinary friendship. Even great scholars have been carried away, finding enormous quantities of theological meaning in agapao.26 But why then does 1 John 2:15 tell us not to love (agapao) the world? Is it wrong to love the world with a divine, elective, altruistic love? Is not John rather warning us against a sinful, selfish, manipulative love of the world? Just as our English word love can be used in a variety of ways, with both good and bad objects, so can the Greek words, both agapao and phileo.27 Our point is that the individual word is not, by itself, imbued with meaning, which it brings to the sentence; rather, the sentence, the particular combination of words, focuses the words into specific meaning. The meaning of Scripture is found in its statements, not its vocabulary. Finally, overanalysis can attempt to achieve more precision than the language itself directly indicates. We earlier made reference to the word "of" in the phrase "gospel of Jesus Christ." This word simply specifies which gospel is in view: it is the gospel that has some relationship to Jesus Christ and is defined by that relationship. The word "of" leaves open whether that relationship is possession (the gospel that belongs to Jesus), source (the gospel that comes from Jesus), subject (the gospel that Jesus Christ preached), object (the gospel that is about Jesus), or all of these. The gospel writer did not need to specify which meaning he meant, because such specificity was unnecessary. We often refer to "our dog" rather than "our golden retriever," so long as specificity is not required for what we wish to say. This kind of overanalysis is particularly acute for the Greek student who feels the need to put his knowledge to some use, and overloads the tenses of Greek verbs with meaning. Granted, the tenses (or better, the aspects) of the Greek verb do have a semantic function, and this function is somewhat different from that of English tenses, which are primarily concerned with time.28 But just as we are not usually conscious of making fine distinctions when we say "he's done it" rather than "he did it," so the NT writers would not have been trying with their tenses to inject subtleties into their arguments or accounts.29 Even in English, under certain circumstances, we use the present tense for the future ("The Lord is coming"), the future for the imperative ("You shall not kill"), the present for the past ("Calvin says in his Institutes"), the past for the present ("What has the Lord required of you?"), etc. Tense study is valuable, but one must remember again that it is not the tense of the verb, but the sentence in which it occurs, that says things. Unfortunately, these types of errors are quite common, and are often found in the works of even the greatest preachers. For example, a pastor known to the authors of this book once preached a sermon on Romans 15:29, "I know that when I come to you, I will come in the full measure of the blessing of Christ." His interest was in the nature of the "blessing of Christ," and he explained it by reference to its alleged etymology. First, he claimed that blessing could be derived from the German Blut ("blood"), which suggested that the "blessing" in view was the "setting apart through blood sacrifice" of Christ. Second, he said that blessing is also related etymologically to the English word bliss, and imparts the notion of genuine happiness which comes only through Christ. Third, the Latin word for blessing is benedictus, which etymologically comes from a word meaning "praised," indicating that God praises us in Christ. So which etymology provides the meaning of "blessing" in Romans 15:29? All three of them! (Oddly, this preacher never referred to the etymology of the Greek word.) But while all these things are true-we are indeed blessed through Christ's blood, and both happy and praised by God because we are in him-they are not actually in the verse, and certainly not in the single word "blessing."  We are not saying that words or other details are unimportant. Careful attention to details can always be of benefit. Most people who read in 1 Corinthians 3:10-15, about the man who will himself be saved, even though his works will be burned up as wood, hay, and stubble, assume this is speaking of a Christian who has done unworthy works in his life. Some have even used this passage to defend the idea that good works are optional in the Christian life. But by paying attention to the words, we note that it is the one who builds with different materials whose building is being judged. And in the context, the building in question is the church, God's people (vv. 9, 16). Paul is concerned that church leaders be careful in edifying and enlarging the church according to God's intent and directives (note v. 10b). But paying attention to detail is not the same thing as constructing hypotheses on the basis of a lone detail, such as the etymology or tense of a word. Interpretation should aim for simplicity and avoid excessive subtlety. As M. Silva puts it, "No reasonable Greek author, when wishing to make a substantive point, is likely to have depended on his reader's ability to interpret subtle syntactical distinctions."30 Word study is valuable because each word in a sentence is a relevant detail shedding light on the meaning of the sentence as a whole, but isolated words by themselves do not say things, and theological conclusions cannot be drawn from single words. In summary, the grammatical side of exegesis focuses on discourses, and understands discourses by noting their structure and genre, as well as studying their sentences and words. Something discovered in a word study may provide a more exact appreciation for the meaning of a sentence, even though it is always the sentence as a whole which determines the exact use of the word. And that sentence's meaning will shed new light on the meaning of the paragraph and discourse. Analysis is thus both "top-down" and "bottom-up." THE HISTORICAL SIDE OF EXEGESIS: HISTORICAL AND CULTURAL BACKGROUND Discourses have meaning within the context of human situations. Fortunately for interpreters of the Bible, biblical discourse as a whole addresses people universally in their sinful condition, their relationship to God, and their relationships with each other. It can thus easily speak to anyone. Further, many of the historical events and situations within which the Bible was written are explicitly described in the Bible itself. Thus, much of the Bible's message can be understood to some degree without a great deal of knowledge of the historical and cultural background beyond what is found in Scripture itself. Nevertheless, the interpreter who desires a firm grasp of the meaning of a nuclear discourse within the Bible will need some knowledge of that background. Fortunately, there are reams of material readily available that can fill in this background.31 Bible encyclopedias (sometimes also called Bible dictionaries) are useful for identifying items and themes in the Bible that are unfamiliar to the modern world. There are many plants, animals, and other things that simply draw a blank in our minds. For example, in 1 Kings 10:11, the fleet of Hiram brings some "almug wood" to Solomon. What is almug wood? A good Bible dictionary will relay whatever scholars know about it. Even more important, though, are theme words that may seem more familiar to us by virtue of their frequent usage, but about which we may actually know little. Information about persons, places, and things in the Bible, biblical concepts and terms, chronology, and many other things are all available. Further, these works have summary information about the authorship, date, circumstances, and character of the books of the Bible. Just browsing a Bible encyclopedia can make one a better exegete. And, if one needs to find quickly "what the Bible says about" some biblical theme (e.g., suffering), often a Bible dictionary or encyclopedia will help. Finally, these Bible encyclopedias or dictionaries often have articles on subjects that modern scholars frequently bandy about as having something to do with interpreting the Bible (e.g., "Dead Sea Scrolls," "Gnosticism").  Two excellent conservative works are The International Standard Bible Encyclopedia32 and the New Bible Dictionary.33 The Interpreter's Dictionary of the Bible34 is also good, but is older and has less respect for the historical integrity of the Bible. But all are excellent; any of them should handle the needs of most nonprofessional exegetes. We recommend that anyone involved in serious interpretation of Scripture purchase one of these reference works. For more specialized or detailed information than is found in the encyclopedias, Bible atlases, Bible histories, and Bible introductions are available. Bible atlases contain maps that give information about the geography and demography of biblical times and events. One of the best is The Macmillan Bible Atlas.35 Virtually every historical event involving geographic movement in the Bible has a corresponding map showing the developments. The story in Genesis 14 about the battle between the five kings and the four kings can be very confusing, but a look at the map in the Bible atlas gives the reader the overall picture very quickly. Bible histories are not as easy to use for quick reference. Usually a Bible encyclopedia will answer a quick question more quickly. But a good Bible history will provide an overview of the history of biblical events in a comprehensive fashion and can make the biblical world come alive to the interpreter. For the NT, the best and also most readable work is F. F. Bruce's New Testament History.36 Bruce respects the historical integrity of the NT, and so his historical reconstruction and fitting of NT events in with the events of the Roman world is trustworthy. There is not to our knowledge any Bible history of recent vintage that fully respects the historical trustworthiness of the OT, but one that is relatively conservative is A History of Israel, by J. Bright.37 Introductions to the NT and the OT also provide background information, as well as information about the biblical books themselves. "General introduction" covers the general background of the NT or OT periods, and gives overviews of the Bible in its historical and cultural contexts. Of value here are such works as The New Testament Environment, by E. Lohse,38 and From the Stone Age to Christianity, by W. F. Albright.39 Both of these books are fairly easy reading. "Special introduction" focuses on the circumstances of particular books, such as authorship, date, place, occasion, unity, style, and sources. Thorough special introductions, both of which defend the integrity of the Bible's own claims regarding authorship, are D. Guthrie's New Testament Introduction40 and R. K. Harrison's Introduction to the Old Testament.41 Much of these works consists of the presentation of, and rejoinders to, alternative scholarly opinions. Also of note here are two more recent works, Old Testament Introduction, by R. Dillard and T. Longman,42 and An Introduction to the New Testament, by D. A. Carson, D. Moo, and L. Morris.43 These works provide not just the historical background for each book, but also an introductory literary analysis and discussion of each book's theological purposes. Commentaries, which would include study Bibles, usually provide introductory material as well, and are often useful for conveying other background information with regard to specific passages. Study Bibles (recommended are The NIV Study Bible44 and the New Geneva Study Bible45) and one-volume commentaries (such as The New Bible Commentary: Revised46 and The International Bible Commentary47) can provide basic help, and until the student can acquire better commentaries, these can help to fill in the gaps. But study Bibles and one-volume commentaries are of necessity so brief that they cannot give an adequate representation of even their own position, let alone alternatives. More adequate are commentaries on single books or groups of books.48 However, even they do not always reliably present all the background that may be needed. Since commentaries are presenting interpretations, they sometimes tend to convey whatever background is compatible with their particular interpretation. And commentaries are notorious for answering every question except the one that the researcher is interested in. Nevertheless, competent commentators have done the background research and analytical work on their portion of Scripture already, and usually have a deep knowledge of its context, historical setting, and purpose. Thus, a commentary will frequently point out things that otherwise would have been missed, and they provide ways of looking at the text that may have been previously unconsidered.  Consulting a commentary sometimes seems like a quick fix, a short cut to the solution, without having to struggle with the problems of exegesis. But there is something curiously unsatisfying about simply eating someone else's pie. Further, commentaries suffer from a disease called novelitis. Commentators frequently feel that they must come up with something novel to justify the publication of the commentary, and the result is that they sometimes obfuscate what earlier seemed quite clear. Charles Spurgeon used to complain about commentators who tried constantly "to fish up some hitherto undiscovered tadpole of interpretation, and cry it 'round the town as a rare dainty." Finally, if we go to the commentaries too quickly in the course of our investigation, we will probably allow the commentators to determine the questions or problems we address, and these questions may not be the questions that really come from the text itself. Therefore, we urge readers to save commentaries for the last step in their exegesis. Then they will be equipped to evaluate and incorporate the valid insights of commentators, and their interpretation will still be their own. We hope the reader of this book is not too overwhelmed by all this. The point is not to indicate that one must look at all these references in order to glean the background to a particular passage, but to indicate that there are many ways to find out that background, in whatever detail the interpreter may need. UNDERSTANDING THE BIBLE ON ITS OWN TERMS So far in this chapter, we have focused on grammatical-historical exegesis, the task of discovering the meaning that a specific text would have had at the time it was written. But since God is the ultimate author of the Bible as a whole, it is also necessary to discover what God is communicating in a particular text by relating that text to the whole Bible. WHEN SCRIPTURE USES SCRIPTURE The most obvious application of this principle is when one passage actually refers to another. If the NT quotes an OT text, to understand what the NT writer is saying, one must go back and see what the OT passage was saying in its original context. This will usually clarify and elucidate what the NT writer is saying. Very often a NT writer will quote only a short excerpt from a passage in Scripture, expecting his readers to know the content of the entire passage. For example, Matthew 3:3 and Mark 1:3 quote Isaiah 40:3 to describe the significance of John the Baptist (Luke 3:4- 6 quotes a bit more of Isaiah). Looking at the whole passage of Isaiah 40:1- 11 shows what was so exciting to the gospel writers. And of course Isaiah 40 is the beginning of the prelude to the great "Servant of the Lord" prophecy of Isaiah 42-55, which is climactically fulfilled in Christ. But even if the NT writer quotes a text rather fully, looking at its larger context can still lead to valuable insights. First Peter 3:10-12 gives a rather extensive quotation from Psalm 34:12-16, and at first blush this seems to do little more than give the advice that we should live peaceably with everyone. But the quotation occurs in a context in 1 Peter that deals with Christian suffering. A look at the entirety of Psalm 34 shows that it too is concerned with suffering, putting that suffering in the context of God's hearing his people and delivering them from suffering. Peter would have expected his readers to know this, and to see the relevance of the Psalm to his exhortation. This principle also works the other way: if one is looking at an OT text that is referred to in the NT, it is important to see how the NT writer used the passage; this will often indicate how the OT passage may be Christologically focused and ecclesiologically applied. When we read Genesis 2:2-3, we learn that God's finishing of his creative work established the divine pattern that led to the hallowing of the seventh day. But we might not see the connection to the Israelites' typological entry into the Promised Land and the final entry into the eternal rest of the true people of God, if it were not for Hebrews 4. Hebrews gives us a better understanding of the meaning of God's rest on the seventh day in Genesis. UNIFYING THEMES OF SCRIPTURE Even if no quotations or allusions are involved, one should relate a passage to its whole Bible context. To a large extent, this is not something that can be taught. It comes with increasing familiarity with the Bible. One passage will often bring to mind another one that addresses the same subject or a similar problem. But perhaps we can point out a few themes that seem to arch over the Bible and provide a general frame of reference for seeing how passages relate to one another. By no means is this an exhaustive list, but these are some of the important themes.  Covenant. In the OT, one of the principal terms that characterizes God's dealing with his people is covenant. The word occurs over 250 times, spread through all parts of the OT. As we noted above (see p. 45), a covenant is simply the formal expression or establishment of a relationship. In the OT, almost all references to a covenant are to God's formal relationship to his people.49 The covenantal form in the OT was patterned after other ancient Near Eastern covenants, so that Abraham, Moses, and the rest could grasp what God was doing. Covenants typically had (1) a historical prologue, which named the parties and gave the background to the relationship, (2) a statement of the nature of the relationship, (3) stipulations about the obligations of the parties in the covenant, and (4) sanctions, or blessings and curses to be brought to bear upon fulfillment or violation of the covenant's terms. Covenants were usually ratified by an oath-taking ceremony that represented the curses, such as a killing of animals or circumcision.50 Sometimes an awareness of covenants can help in understanding what is going on in certain OT passages. One well-known text in the OT is Genesis 15:6, "And he believed the LORD; and he [God] reckoned it to him as righteousness." But not many realize that this occurs in the course of making a covenant. The Lord had promised Abraham descendants as numerous as the stars. And following on the heels of Abraham's justification by faith, there is a covenant-making ceremony. The Lord tells Abraham to divide some animals, and when Abraham goes to sleep, he hears the promises of descendants and land reiterated, and then "a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces. On that day the LORD made a covenant with Abram, saying, 'To your descendants I give this land.'" The smoke and fire were representative of God's presence (like the pillar of cloud and of fire); this ceremony was one in which God took the covenant oath. Now this may seem strange to us, but it would have seemed very strange to an ancient Near Eastern person. Ordinarily it was the inferior who took the oath of loyalty to the superior in a covenant. But in this case God took the oath, invoking the curse on himself as the guarantor of the fulfillment of his promises. So justification by faith was possible because of God's sworn promise, not because of Abraham's greatness of faith. And when Abraham's descendants rebelled against the covenant, the curse of death devolved upon God himself incarnate. The NT does not use the word covenant much per se. The Greek word for "covenant" (sometimes translated "testament") occurs only thirty-three times in the NT, and seventeen of those occurrences are in the book of Hebrews. Most of the recipients of the NT had either forgotten or never knew about ancient covenants, and such language would not have meant much to them. But the concept is still there, and the fulfillment of God's promises in Christ is occasionally called "the new covenant." This is a reference to the prophecy of Jeremiah 31:31-34, where God predicts a new covenant that he will write upon the hearts of his people. When Jesus instituted the Lord's Supper, he indicated that his blood (i.e., his sacrificed life) secured this covenant for his people (Luke 22:20; see Matt. 26:28; Mark 14:24). And Paul in 2 Corinthians 3 indicates that now God's law is written on the heart of believers. Finally, the writer to the Hebrews, addressing Jewish Christians who were more familiar with the nature of covenants, reminds his hearers of the better covenant, which has been ratified by a better sacrifice, is mediated by a better priest, and secures better results than the old covenant of Moses (Heb. 9:15-22). Much more common in the NT is the concept of being "in Christ." All people are "in Adam" by virtue of their descent from him (Rom. 5). Just as all of Abraham's descendants are incorporated under Abraham so that they share in his covenant, so are Adam's descendants incorporated into Adam, so that the curse upon his disobedience is shared by us (Rom. 5:12). But believers are also "in Christ." "As in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive" (1 Cor. 15:22). We partake of the "new covenant" in his blood, which Paul calls our "participation" or "communion" in the blood of Christ (1 Cor. 10:16). The blessing of Christ's obedience, therefore, is also shared by us (see Rom. 8:16-17). The covenant blessing of Abraham has come to the Gentiles "in Christ Jesus" (Gal. 3:14). As in the OT, the concept of covenant explains certain things in the NT. The covenant made with Abraham was ratified by God's oath in Genesis 15, but Abraham later underwent a covenant oath ceremony as well, namely circumcision (Gen. 17:10). In the NT, the symbol of death that is equivalent to this acknowledgment of God's covenant of promise is not circumcision, but baptism. This is why Jesus calls his death a baptism (Luke 12:50), and why Paul says in Romans 6:3 that we are baptized into Christ's death. By being covenantally linked to Christ's death, we share as well in his resurrection (Rom. 6:5). Kingdom of God. God is king over Israel (his people) and also over the whole world. Adam (mankind), God's son, is, as crown prince, to rule over this kingdom as God's vicegerent. After the Fall and the disqualification of man, God chose a particular family (the descendants of Abraham) and location (Canaan) to exercise this vicegerency. But the regency of Israel in Canaan was only partial and representative. Furthermore, it was subject to constant failure. But this little "kingdom of God" pointed toward the reestablishment of the full reign of God on earth through mankind, and stood in opposition to the "kingdoms of men" who attempt to rule not as God's vicegerents, but in their own power (e.g., Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 4) or by the power of other gods. This is clear from the expectations of Daniel. The kingdoms of men, represented by beasts (see, e.g., Dan. 7:12), overthrow one another until the kingdom of God crushes all the rest (Dan. 2 and 7), and God's human vicegerent, the "Son of Man," receives the everlasting dominion that shall not pass away (7:14). God is clearly sovereign over the whole historical process (2:21), but it is only in the future that "the God of heaven will set up a kingdom which shall never be destroyed" (2:44). When Jesus began preaching, he proclaimed that "the kingdom of God is at hand." Jesus was not saying that up until that point God was not sovereign. Rather, he was saying that up until that point the proper vicegerency of man as crown prince under God was not being exercised; man's kingdoms were bestial or demonic. And now that the particular Son of Man, God's Son, had come, this proper reign of God through his Son was about to begin. In fact, with the casting out of demons, man's proper vicegerency did begin (Matt. 12:28; Luke 11:20). Jesus did what Adam should have done; he threw Satan out of the garden. Thus, we "enter" the kingdom of God not by going to a certain location, but by becoming part of this reign of Jesus on earth, participating in his reign, and ruling earth under his overlordship (Eph. 2:6). This requires us to be linked to Jesus, undergoing rebirth (John 3:5) and tribulation (Acts 14:22; see Rom. 8:17).51  Already but not yet. After Jesus was killed and raised from the dead, he was exalted to heaven, where he was seated at the right hand of the Majesty on high and began his reign from there. But while the reign of God through his Son did indeed begin in the NT period, its full effects have not yet been manifested. In the first half of the twentieth century, a debate raged about whether Jesus taught that the kingdom of God was entirely future (so A. Schweitzer) or entirely present already (so C. H. Dodd). Most scholars now recognize that they were both right in their assertions and both wrong in their denials.52 Even when Jesus was on earth, the fact that he cast out demons by the power of God was evidence that sovereignty had been given to the Son of Man, and that the kingdom had "come" (Matt. 12:28; Luke 11:20). But, on the other hand, the kingdom was also yet to come in its fullness, as is clear from, for example, the Olivet discourse (Matt. 24-25; Mark 13; Luke 21). The tension between "already" and "not yet" is even greater now that Jesus has ascended and sent the Holy Spirit. The reign of God is already here in that Christ, the Son of Man, now rules in heaven (see Eph. 1:20-23), and Christians are already raised and rule with him (Eph. 2:6). Yet creation, and we along with it, still groan as we anxiously await the full manifestation of God's reign, which, interestingly enough, in Romans 8:19-25 is a manifestation of the "sons of God," our "adoption as sons." We are already sons (8:14), yet still await our adoption (8:23). The reign of God through his son mankind is already here, but not yet here. G. Vos illustrates it this way:53 This framework controls the entire NT, which was written after Jesus' ascension, but before his coming again in judgment. Virtually every passage is illuminated by a recognition of this tension between already and not yet.54 CANONICAL ANALYSIS In relating a passage to the whole of Scripture, we should always ask the three questions based on the purpose, focus, and application that we have noted several times: How does the passage fit in with the overall redemptive history of the Bible? How does the passage relate to the whole Bible's focus on Jesus Christ? And how does the passage apply to or instruct the church?  The redemptive-historical situation of NT texts is clear, because they were all written during the same stage of redemptive history, the stage of fulfillment, which is yet prior to the final judgment. This is the period we now live in. Further, all of the NT has to do with that stage, since it is the last stage prior to the consummation of history. A few texts in the NT relate to the very end or just before the very end of history, and the beginning of the eternal day, but even these were originally addressed to Christians living in this pres-ent age. But for OT texts, the redemptive-historical question must be asked vigorously. The material in Exodus and Leviticus on OT worship in the tabernacle cannot be understood except by way of reference to its place in redemptive history, as the book of Hebrews so eloquently shows. Historical events such as the Exodus and the Exile cannot properly be understood except as stages in the redemptive-historical development of the purposes of God. When we read in Exodus 22:18 that "you shall not permit a sorceress to live," does this mean that we should kill the woman on our street who reads palms and holds seances, or expect the state to execute her? No, because the literal application of that prohibition pertained to a particular redemptive-historical circumstance, when the typological people of God were also a political entity that was to reflect in an external way the purity of the ultimate reign of God.55 Similarly, we should ask of every passage how it points to Jesus Christ. As we noted in chapters 2 and 6, every passage does not speak directly about him, but every passage does in some way relate to his person or work. And this question is just as relevant to NT passages as to OT passages. If we find ourselves discussing the millennium of Revelation 20 without relating it to the accomplished work of Christ, we are missing its purpose. Or if we exegete the Song of Songs simply as a human love poem, without relating it to the overall purpose of the OT in moving toward the Christ, we are missing its ultimate point. Finally, we must consider what the passage teaches the church. If a passage does not apply to us, why should we try to understand it? A passage may relate to us by telling the people of God who they are, or teaching the church something about God, or teaching us what our responsibilities are, but in some way every verse in the Bible is for the church, God's people. No passage is there for idle curiosity, purely historical interest, or philosophical speculation. PRIORITIES OF INTERPRETATION A chapter on technique needs to include some means of prioritizing results in interpretation. The message of Scripture is one, and, when properly understood, no passage of Scripture contradicts another. But, given our fallibility, it is helpful to have some guidelines about where we are more likely to go wrong and where we are less likely to go wrong, so we may give priority to the latter. There are five general priorities, most of which we have already discussed in some form: 1. The near context is more determinative of meaning than the far context. This actually is an application of a principle discussed earlier, that each element of discourse depends most on the immediately higher level. A word depends on the sentence more than the paragraph or discourse, and a sentence is defined by its paragraph more than the discourse or life situation. Thus, a statement of Paul should be related to other statements of Paul before being compared to statements of Matthew or Isaiah. 2. A didactic or systematic discussion of a subject is more significant for that subject than a historical or descriptive narrative. When a historical narrative reports something as happening in a specific circumstance, one cannot draw theological conclusions from it. It has often been noted that the Jerusalem church's "having all things in common" because of its severe exigency is not necessarily an indication that all churches should do likewise. The fact that the first coming of the Holy Spirit was accompanied by speaking in tongues does not mean that all receptions of the Holy Spirit must be so accompanied; to argue so would also entail that tongues of fire be visible over the heads of those receiving the Spirit. This is one reason why the idea of emulating the life of Christ can be misleading. Of course we want to be Christlike. But should we emulate his celibacy? Should we drive out money changers with a whip? Should we all engage in exorcism? Should we be circumcised as he was on the eighth day? Ought we all to restrict our preaching to Palestinian Israel? Is it appropriate for us to preach to the general public only in parables? Should we enter Jerusalem on a donkey or claim to be the Christ? Some of these questions are ridiculous, of course, but they illustrate that emulation of a narrative without the didactic application needs to be done very carefully. This does not mean we cannot apply narrative material to our lives. The historical books have a purpose other than describing what happened. We can see the godliness of Joseph, David, and Hannah, the godlessness of Omri, Herod, and Athaliah, and the mistakes of Solomon, Uzziah, and Miriam. Watching the godly and the godless in action can help to set our own character. Further, in the whole story we see the grace of God at work, bringing his redemptive purposes to bear, and leading inexorably toward the final redemption in Christ. But these applications are indirect. The fact that godly David had several wives and committed adultery is no indication that godly men should have many wives and commit adultery. The narrative must be understood in the light of didactic material elsewhere in Scripture. 3. A related principle is that explicit teaching is more significant than supposed implications of a text. Frequently the Bible uses concrete language in such a way that a false inference might be drawn. When Abraham demonstrated his trust in God by his obedience in offering Isaac, God said, "Now I know that you fear God" (Gen. 22:12). Should we infer from this that God did not know the true state of Abraham's heart prior to this event? When we look at Galatians 3:28, which tells us that in Christ there is neither male nor female, we might infer from this that the distinctions between male and female have disappeared for Christians or are irrelevant for the church. After all, the distinctions between Jew and Gentile, and slave and free, have disappeared. But whereas Paul argued vigorously for breaking down the barrier between Jew and Gentile, he did not argue for a dissolution of slavery on theological grounds. The nondistinction between Jew and Gentile was of a different kind than the nondistinction between slave and freeman. Thus, the nondistinction between male and female might be of a different kind than either Jew and Gentile or slave and free. We cannot conclude, therefore, that Galatians 3:28 automatically obviates all sexual differentiation on earth. And the explicit indications in Ephesians 5:22-33, 1 Peter 3:1-7, 1 Corinthians 11, and 1 Timothy 2:11-15 are that Galatians 3:28 does not annihilate order in family or church in this life. 4. Literal passages are more determinative than symbolic ones. For ascertaining meaning, literal passages provide more solid ground than symbolic ones. Passages that are highly symbolic in nature (such as the end of Daniel 9, the Olivet discourse of Mark 13 and Matthew 24, or the book of Revelation) should be interpreted in line with what is clearly and unambiguously stated in other passages.56  5. Later passages reflect a fuller revelation than earlier ones. The most obvious application of this principle is that the NT takes precedence over the OT. Again, there is no real conflict between the testaments when properly understood in their whole biblical and redemptive-historical contexts, but later revelation is fuller and clearer and occurs in our own redemptive-historical context. One more principle might be mentioned, that teachings in contexts that are central to the Bible should take precedence over teachings in more peripheral ones. However, who is to say what is central and what is peripheral? Further, just because a teaching is peripheral in the Bible, we cannot say that it is not true. The central doctrines of the Bible never contradict the peripheral ones, when they are properly understood. But it is true that central doctrines should control the interpretation of more peripheral material. Central doctrines can usually be recognized by the fact that they are frequently reiterated and assumed in Scripture, and therefore are less subject to misunderstanding. Central teachings also serve as grounds for other teachings, and the more central a doctrine is, the more likely it will be shared by Christians of many communions. However, a central teaching should not be taken as being actually in contradiction to a less central one. Many people argue that 1 Timothy 2:11- 15 is less central than Galatians 3:28. Galatians 3 is dealing with some of the most important issues of Christianity, while 1 Timothy 2 is giving instructions about church order and public prayers, which would appear to most people to be of lesser importance. Furthermore, Paul was passionate about the matter in Galatians 3; 1 Timothy appears relatively calm. Therefore, it is argued, the inference from the Galatians passage that women may hold all church offices should overrule the explicit statement in the less-central passage forbidding authoritative teaching by women in the church. We must take great care, however, that we do not end up with one Scripture contradicting another. We cannot say that Paul was correct in Galatians, but mistaken or inconsistent in 1 Timothy. We can only say that our understanding of a less-central context should be less significant in building our overall interpretive framework. So focusing on that which is central is another way of progressing around the hermeneutical spiral. It is not a means of setting aside the less-central teachings. TWO EXAMPLES  As we stated at the beginning of this chapter, techniques are only tools to help the exegete interpret. His or her presuppositional framework and goals are going to determine the way the tools are used. Techniques allow for greater coherence and consistency in interpretation, but they do not themselves guarantee the correct result. Analyzing a passage can improve our understanding of it in two ways. The analysis can clarify something that was obscure or confusing, or it can open new perspectives on what we thought we already understood. Both of these results further our progress on the hermeneutical spiral and help us understand better what God intends to teach us. We have selected two passages to demonstrate this. The first, which is the story of Jephthah and his vow, sometimes confuses Christian readers, but close analysis will help to clarify things. On the other hand, many folk have always thought they understood what Revelation 20 is all about, but analysis will show that there is more than one way of looking at it, and we hope that readers of all sorts of millennial positions will see both how their own positions can be strengthened and how other interpretations might very well be worth considering. JUDGES 11:29-40: JEPHTHAH'S VOW Following the pattern suggested in this chapter, we shall look at the discourse, sentences, and words of this passage, then the historical and social situation, and finally how the context of the whole Bible and the revelation in Jesus Christ affect the meaning of this passage. Discourse: large scale. The book of Judges relates the history of Israel between the time of original conquest and the time of Samuel, prior to kingship. The pattern that is repeated over and over again is that Israel neglects God and goes about "doing what is right in their own eyes," which results in God punishing Israel, and then when Israel cries out to the Lord, he provides a "judge," a warrior who delivers Israel from oppression. They are called judges because they bring God's justice for his people. These judges are presented as great heroes of faith, with the exception of Samson, and even he is eventually restored and regarded as a man of great faith. Discourse: small scale. The general tenor of this story in Judges is that Jephthah was God's chosen agent for the redemption of Israel. In spite of his difficult background (an illegitimate child with no inheritance), he became God's man for the very people who had spurned him. Second, Jephthah vowed a meaningful vow, and he kept that vow even though it hurt him more deeply than he had anticipated. The overall tone appears to be one of commendation, not condemnation. But human sacrifice was an abomination (Lev. 18:21; 20:2-5; Deut. 12:31; 18:10) and was unknown in Israel until the importation of Moloch worship several hundred years later under Ahaz and Manasseh. How could the author of Judges present a murder in the Lord's name as an exemplary act or pass it by without comment? Sentences, phrases, and words. Paying careful attention to what the sentences actually say is helpful (we will focus on the NIV). Several items are pertinent. First, the NIV's "whatever comes out of the door of my house to meet me... I will sacrifice it" (v. 31) implies that Jephthah was thinking of an animal, but the phrase "go out to meet" is elsewhere used only of human beings. Also, the animals that were domesticated in biblical times (sheep, goats, and cattle) did not come out of the door of the house to greet their owners.57 So Jephthah evidently had in mind a human sacrifice all along. The translation should therefore be "whoever comes out... I will sacrifice him" (so RSV). Second, the daughter of Jephthah asked for two months to bewail her virginity, not her youth or her untimely death. And she wails "because I will never marry" (v. 37), not "because I am going to die." She must remain without husband and hence without child. Third, the story concludes, "And she was a virgin" (v. 39). This is literally "and she knew no man" (KJV; cf. NASB). This remark is superfluous if it is simply another comment about her virginity. It makes better sense as an explanation of the preceding sentence: "And he did to her as he vowed." This suggests that his vow was fulfilled not by her death, but by her remaining a virgin. This explanation also has the advantage of focusing on what is explicit, rather than what is supposedly implicit. The text speaks explicitly and repeatedly about her virginity, her never marrying, her having no relations with a man, but never states that she was killed. It thus appears that Jephthah's vow to offer as a sacrifice the first person who came out to meet him was a commitment to dedicate that person to the Lord, not to kill him or her. The most difficult problem for this interpretation is that the word that Jephthah uses in his vow is translated "burnt offering." This word is commonly used of the sacrifice in the tabernacle worship that was burned on the altar, and a concordance will show that almost all of its many occurrences refer to the animal that was slaughtered and then entirely burned. Those who know Hebrew might be tempted to etymologize here, and point out that 'olah would not by itself necessarily carry the concept of "burnt" in it. But even without the etymologizing, close study of the texts with an analytical concordance shows that the word refers to offerings that were wholly given to the Lord, rather than given in token, or partly burned and partly consumed by the priests. The word thus stresses the exclusivity and totality of the offering, not the act of burning. Discourse again. A further look at the discourse as a whole turns up a few more things. Sometimes this story is understood as a warning against taking rash vows, but it does not appear that Jephthah acts rashly. When offered leadership of Gilead, he does not take up the sword at once, but proceeds very cautiously. And when he does accept, he makes a treaty before the Lord. Even then he does not take up the sword, but attempts to negotiate with the Ammonites. And even when he goes to war, it is not in the heat of battle that he makes his vow, but in a moment of reflection prior to the engagement. The vow has the character not of a sudden or rash act, but a promise by which, whatever the outcome, Jephthah would lose something of value to him. But a vow to offer an animal would have been no special vow. Military leaders always offered not one, but many animals in sacrifice following a victory, even apart from vows. For this vow to be serious, it must have been costly. Now it is sometimes objected that, if all the vow meant was to dedicate the person who came out to the Lord, why did it eventuate in such wailing and grief? Again the discourse provides the answer, for this daughter was Jephthah's only child. Since he had been cut off from his father's family, his daughter was the only family he had. And since she was the only child, he therefore had no hope of any descendants. This was devastating for a person in the ancient Near East. Historical context. So far as the redemptive-historical context goes, we already noted that human sacrifice was forbidden. Further, genuine whole (burnt) offerings could only be offered to the Lord at the altar of the tabernacle, mediated by priests. Would the killing of a human sacrifice at the tabernacle have been possible? On the other hand, there were women who were dedicated to service at the tabernacle. We know about them because of a passing reference in 1 Samuel 2:22 to the fact that the sons of Eli had violated such women. So it is probable that Jephthah's daughter was given as a "whole offering" to the Lord by being dedicated for life to service at the tabernacle. How does this story fit in with the overall message of the Bible? Redemptive historically, it points to the fact that God's deliverance comes about through the sacrifice of a representative person. Christologically, it reminds us that God sacrificed his only Son, just as Jephthah gave up his only daughter. And the message to the church is that Jephthah, like Abraham, was willing to give up what was dearest to him in obedience to God, and so reflected the character of God. We too must be willing to offer up to the Lord whatever is most precious to us, and to keep our promises to the Lord, even when it hurts far more than we anticipated. REVELATION 20:1-10: THE MILLENNIUM For our second illustration, let us look at a passage that has resulted in the spilling of more vitriolic ink than perhaps any other passage of Scripture, Revelation 20. We have no desire to contribute to the vitriol, and should begin by pointing out that any interpretation of this highly symbolic passage should necessarily be held very tentatively. But there may be no better passage to illustrate how a passage is differently conceived within different frameworks. Let us attempt to follow our path of grammatical analysis, historical analysis, and canonical analysis with respect to this passage, not in any exhaustive fashion (we are ignoring numerous exegetical as well as theological questions), but to see how the tools work. Revelation 20, as most readers will know, is usually interpreted as either a thousand-year golden age following the return of Christ, but prior to the final judgment (premillennialism),58 or as a future golden age prior to Christ's return as the ultimate expression of his victory (postmillennialism), or as a symbolic way of referring to the period of Christ's rule with his saints in the present age (amillennialism or realized millennialism).59 Discourse analysis: large scale. The chapter occurs within the larger context of the book of Revelation, and so the overall view of Revelation is highly determinative for our understanding of this passage. There are four main ways of approaching the book as a whole: the "preterist" view regards most of the book of Revelation, except for the ending, as focused on the situation of Christians in the Roman Empire of the first century. The "futurist" view regards everything after chapter 4 as prophecy of the (final) future. The "historicist" view regards the various visions of the book as reflecting different stages of church history, from the first century to the final judgment. The "idealist" view regards the book as not dealing with specific events at all, but only with the larger spiritual issues that confront believers of any age. There is no exact correspondence between these approaches and one's view of chapter 20, but there are certainly perceivable tendencies. Idealists will argue that chapter 20, like all the rest, is simply a timeless depiction of a great spiritual warfare, and will not look for any literal millennium, past, present, or future, and so they will tend to be amillennial. Likewise, preterists are more likely to reach an amillennial conclusion, because they will usually regard chapter 20 as one more picture of the situation of the early church. Historicists are most likely to see chapter 20 as the last age in church history prior to the final judgment of 20:11-15, so most of them are postmillennial. And of course futurists generally come to premillennial conclusions. In our view, these four approaches are, by themselves, too simplistic. Each view has both legitimate insights and blind spots. Certainly, if the book of Revelation, written in the first century and addressed to the church of the first century, was intended to aid and comfort the church in this world, it must have said at least some things directly to them. So at least to some extent a preterist approach must be appropriate. On the other hand, the book was written not only for the first-century church, but for the church of this whole age, and so one might expect at least some elements of the historicist approach to be correct, as well as some insights from the idealist approach. And much of the comfort of the gospel comes from its hope for the future, so there must also be a great deal in the way of future expectation, as the futurist approach holds. The nature of this large discourse, the book of Revelation, cannot therefore be easily determined before looking at the text in detail. Views regarding the structure of the book also come into play. Here, there are two main approaches, a linear view and a cyclic view. Those who take a cyclic approach argue that the other example of apocalyptic literature in the Bible, the book of Daniel, is cyclic. It gives various visions presenting different images of the same periods of redemptive history. Certainly the dream of Nebuchadnezzar in Daniel 2 and the visions of beasts in Daniel 7 portray the same future, but with different symbols. In Revelation, the cyclists point to features like the sixth and seventh seals in 6:12-8:1, which certainly sounds like the final judgment of chapters 19 and 20, with the ultimate destruction of God's enemies, the great victory song of the Lamb, and eternal bliss, and they argue that these cover the same events of final judgment. And of course the portent of chapter 12 seems to refer to the birth of Christ and Satan's attempt to destroy him. This of course has already happened. Those holding to the linear approach, however, point to the fact that, unlike the book of Daniel, Revelation does not have any clear changes of venue or time, separating the visions. It reads as a single prophecy, rather than several prophecies brought together. They accept that the portent in Revelation 12 is a backward glance, but argue that it is a reminder of Satan's activities and power that will be manifested in the future. And they note certain differences between the judgment material of chapters 6-7 and that of chapter 20. Again, the matter is not easy to resolve. Let us then look in greater detail at Revelation 20:1-10. Discourse analysis: small scale. The only evident subdiscourse marker is the recurring phrase "then I saw." This is not completely reliable, but verses 1, 4 and 11 do start off with these words, which might signal the beginning of new nuclear discourses. So we might start by considering 20:1-10 as consisting of two nuclear discourses, vv. 1-3 and vv. 4-10. On the other hand, vv. 7-10 are thematically closely linked to vv. 1-3, picking up the theme of the activity of Satan at the end of the thousand years. So the thematic progress seems to be the binding of Satan for the thousand years, the reign with Christ of those who had been beheaded and who had not received the mark of the beast during that thousand-year period, and then the temporary release and final judgment of Satan after the thousand years. The two sections on Satan and the middle section on the reign of the martyrs with Christ are joined by the theme of the thousand years.  Sentence and word analysis. Questions now need to be asked about the meaning of several items in the passage. 1. What are the "thousand years"? Are they literal or figurative? If they are literal, when do they occur? If they are figurative, what do they symbolize? 2. What does it mean that Satan is "bound" and thrown into the pit (vv. 2- 3), and that he is not able to "deceive the nations" during the thousand years of his imprisonment (vv. 3, 8)? 3. Who sit upon the thrones, and come to life and reign with Christ during the thousand years (v. 4)? 4. What does it meant that they "came to life [or "lived"], and reigned with Christ" (v. 4)? 5. What and when is "the first resurrection" (vv. 5-6)? Each of the three millennial viewpoints can make a coherent whole out of this discourse by answering these questions differently. The amillennialist argues that, since numbers in Revelation clearly have a symbolic function, even if they are literal, "thousand" is likewise a symbolic number, and simply means "an age of history." He or she will point to the fact that Satan is bound specifically in order that "he should deceive the nations no more." Jesus indicated that his ministry of setting Satan's captives free was also a binding of "the strong man," Satan (Mark 3:27). It is therefore argued that the binding in Revelation 20 is not a general cessation of all Satan's activities, but his inability to keep the nations in the darkness of idolatry, without knowledge of the true God. The ones who sit on thrones are those who have died in Christ, especially those killed for the sake of the gospel. The amillennialist argues that the word "souls" in verse 4 does not mean "people" (as in Acts 2:41) since it is qualified by the phrase "of those who had been beheaded." It makes no sense to refer to the "people of those who had been beheaded," so "souls" must refer to a part or aspect of people. A concordance indeed shows that in all instances where "souls" means "people," it has no qualifying genitive phrase (an "of" clause). The "souls of those who had been slain" in Revelation 6:9 is closely parallel to 20:4, and therefore both must refer to disembodied souls. Thus, they are now living and reigning in heaven with Jesus while waiting for the final resurrection. The first resurrection is thus a resurrection in Christ. It is a nonliteral resurrection, just as the "second death" is a nonliteral death. Literal (second) resurrection and literal (first) death are not qualified by any ordinal numbers in the text. Therefore, says the amillennialist, the millennium of Revelation 20 is not a literal, future thousand-year golden age which is spoiled at the end by the release of Satan, but symbolizes the spiritual victory of Christ during the present age. At the end of the age, the nations will again become united under an idolatrous power, and then the Lord will return in glory and the final judgment will take place. The postmillennialist agrees with the amillennialist on the symbolic nature of the passage, but argues that Satan's power has not yet been limited enough to say that he has been bound. He is still prowling around like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour (1 Peter 5:8). Besides, the "thousand years," while not necessarily numerically precise, must have some connection with a literal period of time. The twenty-four elders, the twelve tribes, etc., are symbolic numbers, but they could quite well be literal numbers, too. So on this view, the thousand years cannot be the present age, but must be a future semigolden age, a foretaste of eternity, in which God's victory is accomplished in fullness on earth. Those who "came to life, and reigned with Christ" are the believers of that time, and the "first resurrection" is the new birth rather than the state of the disembodied saints in heaven. Passages like Ephesians 2:1-6 show that conversion to Christianity is like dying and coming to life again, and when we have come to life in Christ, we reign with him. As the gospel by God's power makes progress in the world, eventually most of the world will be subject to the spiritual reign of Christ on earth, until the very end, when a brief but widespread and intense resurgence of Satanic activity will be finally overthrown by the physical return of Christ. The premillennialist agrees with the postmillennialist that the thousand years is more literal and hence future, and that Satan does not appear to be "bound" in the present state of affairs. But the premillennialist would, along with the amillennialist, argue that "those who had been beheaded" does not well describe believers in this life, especially in a golden age of obedience when most of the world is Christian. Why would Christians living in such an age be beheaded and persecuted for not receiving the mark of the beast? And surely the passage gives some encouragement to Christians who now, prior to the millennium, are being martyred. Further, both the premillennialist and the amillennialist would argue against the postmillennialist that the binding of Satan (and throwing of him into the pit) appears to be a decisive event; the symbol does not seem to work well as a gradual overcoming of Satan. So the premillennialist understands the thousand years as a period after the return of Christ, when believers, but not unbelievers, are literally resurrected (the "first resurrection"). They literally come to life and reign with Christ during the thousand years. This fits better with verse 5, where "the rest of the dead did not come to life until the thousand years were ended." The word "until" implies that after the thousand years, the rest of the dead will come to life. This presents a difficulty for the amillennialist and the postmillennialist, for on their views "the rest of the dead" would not begin life in heaven as disembodied spirits (the amillennial view of the first resurrection) or become Christians (the postmillennial view of the first resurrection) after the end of the millennium. Discourse analysis again. People taking each of these viewpoints can also argue from a particular perspective on the nature of the book as a whole. If Revelation 20 follows the events of chapter 19 chronologically, then the premillennial viewpoint appears more likely, and those who hold this view can point to 20:10 as a backward reference to 19:20 and argue that therefore they are a linear, not a cyclic, sequence of visions. The amillennialist can point to the way the pattern of rebellion and judgment, persecution and deliverance, occurs over and over again in Revelation, and argue that Revelation 19 presents a scene of final judgment, and thus is parallel to 20:10-15, but not to 20:1-9. Both the postmillennialist and the amillennialist would argue that chapter 20 represents a deeper picture, a different view, than chapter 19, and thus that 20:10 refers back to 19:20 in order to draw the similarity: just as in chapter 19 the beast and the false prophet are thrown into the lake of fire at the end of history, so in 20:10 Satan is likewise destroyed at the end of history. Historical analysis. Historical analysis will of course be less significant for the premillennialist, who holds that most of the book refers to what is still future, but even so, study of the historical background could turn up some interesting material. For example, it was not uncommon for writers in the apocalyptic genre to speak of thousand-year periods as ages of the world. There were a thousand years (approximately) between Abraham and David, and another thousand years between David and the first century. From this, theologically significant millennia were extrapolated backward and forward, with the last being a golden age of God's victory on earth. For example, the Epistle of Barnabas (an early second-century Christian tract) speaks of seven different millennia, each representing an age of the world. Therefore, the premillennialist and the postmillennialist could argue that, since John the seer was using a known figure of apocalyptic genre, he must have used it with the common apocalyptic meaning, which means that a literal, thousand-year period is in view. But the amillennialist could argue that the apocalyptic genre was already using the thousand-year periods symbolically, and that, in any case, John was under no obligation to use the symbol in exactly the same way as other apocalyptic writers. For the amillennialist, especially for one with a preterist approach to the whole book, the historical background is more crucial. The promises regarding the souls of "those who had been beheaded" (20:4) and "those who had been slain for the word of God" (6:9) would give special comfort to those who had been bereaved by persecu