“Thyatira had a false prophetess Jezebel who had already been openly admonished regarding her evil teaching (whatever it was): ‘I gave her space to repent of her fornication; and she repented not.’ Included in the Lord’s rebuke of this ecclesia is the reproach: ‘Thou sufferest that woman Jezebel to teach and to seduce my servants….’ Even so, Thyatira was not deemed unworthy of fellowship with the Lord. And far from there being any requirement placed on the faithful to separate themselves from the contaminating influence of Jezebel and her coterie, the exact opposite is explicitly laid upon them: ‘But unto you I say, and unto the rest that are in Thyatira, as many as have not this doctrine, and which have not known the depths of Satan, as they speak; I will put upon you none other burden. But that which ye have already, hold fast till I come.’ Such words need no explaining. They tell their own story.

“Other letters to the Churches emphasize the same lesson even more forcefully, if that be possible. Ecclesias like Smyrna and Philadelphia incurred no reproach from the Lord of any sort. Yet if the ‘exclusives’ are right in their insistence on a ‘pure fellowship’, both of these ecclesias were sadly at fault in that they had not broken off all fellowship with Sardis, Thyatira, Laodicea. The rejoinder that they were too far from these other ecclesias to know about the vexed problems existing there is ridiculous nonsense. Asia was one of the most highly developed areas in the Roman Empire, and these cities lay on its main arteries. Intercommunication in remote corners of the empire may have been somewhat uncertain, but here in Asia conditions were more comparable with the twentieth century. Thus Smyrna and Philadelphia continued in uninterrupted fellowship with ecclesias which the Lord himself castigated” (HAW, “Block Disfellowship”, Tes 43:341).

Brother Thomas concludes the same — that is, that all other ecclesias (those other six mentioned in the Apocalypse and their latter-day counterparts) are “in fellowship” with Laodicea (Eur 1:403). His position here is decidedly at variance with many of the “stricter fellowships” of today!

Titus was a companion and helper of Paul for a period of about 20 years, possibly longer, but he is only mentioned four times during that period:

1. Paul probably converted Titus, a Cilician Gentile, in Antioch, 45 AD (Acts 13:1). He went with Paul from Antioch to Jerusalem (about 50 AD) regarding the issue of the Gentiles being circumcised and keeping the Law. Titus, a Gentile, was the test case (Gal 2:1-3). Paul refused to let him be circumcised, and the apostles supported him, and the freedom of Gentiles from the Law was established. Thereafter Titus was a living symbol of that freedom, as Timothy was of not needlessly offending Jews (Acts 16:3; 1Co 9:20).
2. About five years later, during Paul’s three-year stay at Ephesus, Titus was sent twice to Corinth concerning the ecclesial troubles there, as we learn from the Corinthian letters (2Co 7:5,6; 8:6). He was successful in correcting the problems and reconciling the brethren there To Paul. Due to the seriousness of the matter and Paul’s great concern, Paul apparently considered Titus his most qualified fellow-laborer.
3. About ten years later (65 AD), as we learn from this letter to him, Titus was left in Crete (Tit 1:5) to complete the work Paul had begun in organizing ecclesias in various cities there, appointing suitable elders, and setting up a strong discipline for guiding the new ecclesias in constructive godliness. Here again he is chosen for an important and difficult task; when the foundations were laid, he was to be relieved by Tychicus or Artemas, who would carry on, so that Titus could join Paul at Nicopolis (Tit 3:12) to be used for pressing work there. Clearly he was one of Paul’s primary helpers.
4. Finally, a few years later, in Paul’s second letter to Timothy, in his second imprisonment shortly before his death, he writes that Titus has gone to Dalmatia (just north of Nicopolis) — probably again carrying out ground-breaking work in the establishment of the Truth (2Ti 4:10).

Whereas Timothy seems to have had an inborn timidity and shyness against which he had to struggle (2Ti 1:7) and “oft infirmities” to put up with (1Ti 5:23), Titus seems to have had something of Paul’s own aggressiveness. Titus was perhaps older than Timothy, since Paul makes no reference to his youthfulness, as he does to Timothy’s (1Ti 4:12; 2Ti 2:22) — though it may be simply that Timothy was only more conscious of his youth than was Titus. Titus was a man of resourcefulness and initiative, able not only to take orders, but also to go ahead on his own (2Co 8:16,17) — a man of contagious enthusiasm (2Co 7:13).

‘Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer Thought it scarcely worth his while To waste much time on the old violin, But held it up with a smile: “What am I bidden, good folks?” he cried, “Who’ll start the bidding for me?” “A dollar”, a dollar; then, “Two!” Only two? Two dollars, and who’ll make it three? Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice; Going for three…” But no, From the room, far back, a gray-haired man Came forward and picked up the bow; Then, wiping the dust from the old violin, And tightening the loose strings, He played a melody pure and sweet As a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer, With a voice that was quiet and low, Said, “What am I bid for the old violin?” And he held it up with the bow. “A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two? Two thousand! And who’ll make it three? Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice, And going, and gone,” said he. The people cheered, but some of them cried, “We do not quite understand What changed its worth.” Swift came the reply: “The touch of the master’s hand.”

And many a man with life out of tune, And battered and scarred with sin, Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd, Much like the old violin. A “mess of pottage”, a glass of wine; A game — and he travels on. He is “going” once, and “going” twice, He’s “going” and almost “gone”. But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd Never can quite understand The worth of a soul and the change that’s wrought By the touch of the Master’s hand.

(MB Welch)

How translation occurs

It is important to realize — and most people who have not learned a second language wouldn’t know — that there is no such thing as a one-to-one correspondence between languages. You cannot have a word for word translation that is at all readable, because the word order is different, the nature of the grammar is different and even the sense of a word may cover a wider or smaller range than the corresponding English word.

For instance, the word “house” in Hebrew can mean “immediate family” or “a royal dynasty” besides the equivalent English idea of a building where a person dwells. Therefore to have an accurate English translation you cannot simply translate the Hebrew word with “house”; you need to translate it according to which of the possible meanings is intended.

Idioms, likewise, do not translate across directly: for instance the English phrase “I’m sick and tired of apple pie” if translated literally could give a reader in another language the false impression that the individual in question is sleepy and ready to throw up.

Consider the following “literal translation” of the first verse of the Bible, which maintains the Hebrew word order and phrasing, and ask yourself if it is easily comprehensible:

In-beginning he-created God (definite direct object) the-heavens and-(definite direct object) the-earth.

But even this is not entirely accurate in a word for word sense, because Hebrew does not have a true past tense; but there is no other way to indicate perfect aspect (completed action). However, when one of the prophets makes use of the perfect aspect to show the certainty of the prophesy, to translate it as a past tense can create the false impression that the prophet is speaking of things that have already happened when that is not the case at all! And in front of the single words (they are only one word in Hebrew) “the-heavens” and “the-earth” is the Hebrew word that indicates that what follows is a definite direct object — hardly translatable into English at all.

Having said all this, one would imagine that this first verse is a complicated sentence. Not at all. It is remarkably simple. It only becomes difficult if we expect translation to be “literal”. It isn’t. All translation, by its very nature, is paraphrastic and interpretive.

The way translation happens is as follows. The translator learns a foreign language and learns it well. Learning Hebrew or Greek is just like learning French or Spanish in high school. There is nothing mysterious or special about the ancient languages. Then the translator reads the foreign text and understands it. Having understood it, he or she then puts it into the best English possible.

There is no mystery associated with the translation of the Bible, nor are there any significant disagreements between translations. However, by the nature of what translation is — the work of individuals with their own separate styles — the wording of, say, Today’s English Version is not going to be identical to the King James Version or the New International Version. Not because anyone is trying to twist something or make it say what it doesn’t, but only because each translator is going to word it as he thinks best. But the MEANING will be the same. And of course, between the King James and the more modern translations there is also the gap caused by the change in the English language — we do not speak like the people in Shakespeare’s time did, but their way of speaking is no “grander” or any more “eloquent” than ours. King James English was the way any farmer or fisherman of 1611 would have talked, just as Today’s English Version or the New International Version is the way an average person speaks today. For all the snobbishness of attitude on the part of some regarding Shakespeare today, in his own day he was considered somewhat vulgar and not a little risque. Shakespeare was like an ordinary television drama or sitcom is for us today.

Textual criticism

One other change since the time of the King James translation, of course, is the improvement in the texts that are available to today’s translators. They are older and that much closer to the original (although that fact, by itself, does not guarantee greater accuracy). Moreover, the methods of textual criticism — the science of comparing the different and sometimes inconsistent manuscripts and determining which one is the closest to the original reading — have advanced considerably since the 1600s.

The history of the Biblical texts shows clearly that all of them stand far removed from the originals both by time and by the process of transmission. They contain not only scribal errors, but even some actual transformations of the text, both deliberate and accidental. By means of textual criticism we attempt to find all the alterations that have occurred and then recover the earliest possible form of the text.

Textual criticism proceeds in three steps:

1. All the variant readings of the text are collected and arranged. Of course, this is the very reason textual criticism is necessary at all. If we had only a single copy, there would be no questions, but since we have several, which all say different things, we have a problem. Which text accurately records the original statements?
2. The variants must then be examined.
3. The most likely reading is then determined. For the OT, in order to carry out these steps, it is necessary to use the Masoretic Text, which ordinarily serves as the basis from which the textual critic will work. Combined with the Masoretic Text the critic will consult all the ancient Hebrew manuscripts and versions that might be available.

The most important Hebrew manuscripts for Old Testament textual criticism are:

1. The St. Petersburg (or Leningrad) Codex, 1008 AD. It is the largest and only complete manuscript of the entire OT.
2. The Aleppo Codex, 930 AD. It used to be a complete copy of the OT, but was partially destroyed in a synagogue fire in 1948.
3. The British Museum Codex, 950 AD. It is an incomplete copy of the Pentateuch.
4. The Cairo Codex, 895 AD. A copy of the Former and Latter Prophets (Jos, Jdg, 1Sa, 2Sa, 1Ki, 2Ki, Isa, Jer, Eze, and the twelve minor prophets).
5. The Leningrad (St Petersburg) Codex of the Prophets, 916 AD, containing only the Latter Prophets.
6. The Reuchlin Codex of the Prophets, 1105 AD.
7. Cairo Geniza fragments, 6th to 9th century, AD.
8. Qumran Manuscripts (the Dead Sea Scrolls), 200 BC — 70 AD.

The most important ancient translations of the Old Testament into languages other than Hebrew are:

a. The Septuagint (several versions) b. The Aramaic Targums (several versions) c. The Syriac Peshitta d. The Samaritan Pentateuch e. The Latin Vulgate

Ideally, the work of textual criticism should proceed with all of these ancient versions and copies readily available. There are then some basic rules that help place the textual criticism of the Bible, whether OT or NT, on a firm basis that generally avoids arbitrariness and subjectivity.

For the OT, where the Hebrew manuscripts and the ancient versions agree, we may assume that the original reading has been preserved. Likewise, with the NT, where the various manuscripts agree, we may assume the original text has been preserved. To our great relief, this covers 95 per cent of the Bible.

Where the mss differ among themselves, one should chose either the more difficult reading from the point of view of language and subject matter or the reading that most readily makes the development of the other readings intelligible. In order to make this choice, it is necessary that the critic have a thorough knowledge of the history and character of the various mss. It needs also to be realized that these criteria work together and complement one another. A “more difficult reading” does not mean a “meaningless reading.”

However, the critic must not assume that just because a reading appears meaningless that it necessarily is. Scribes are not likely to turn a meaningful passage into gibberish. Therefore, if a passage is not understandable, that is often as far as we can go. We must, as scholars, acknowledge our own ignorance.

With the OT, where the Hebrew manuscripts and the translations differ, and a superior reading cannot be demonstrated on the basis of the above rules, then one should, as a matter of first principle, allow the Hebrew text to stand. With the NT, one will generally choose the shorter reading because of the tendency of scribes to try to “explain” passages.

Where the different mss differ and none of them seem to make any sense, one may attempt a conjecture concerning the true reading — a conjecture that must be validated by demonstrating the process of the textual corruption that would have lead to the existing text forms. Such a conjecture, however, must not be used to validate the interpretation of a whole passage in that it might have been made on the basis of an expectation derived from the whole.

The Causes of Textual Corruption

The goal of textual criticism is to remove the textual errors and restore the original readings. To aid in this goal, it is helpful if the textual critic has an idea of what sorts of errors he or she is likely to find.

When copying out a text, errors occur in every conceivable way, as we no doubt know from our own experiences. Sometimes it is difficult to explain, even to ourselves, how we might have come to make a particular error. Therefore it is unlikely that we will be able to correct or explain everything that has eluded the scribes over the centuries. A reading that appears doubtful or corrupt to us today may have been caused by a hole or some other damage to the copyist’s manuscript. Or maybe the letters or words in a given section of his text were faded and nearly illegible, forcing the copyist to make his best guess. Moreover, a single error can give rise to many others, leaving us with no clue as to how it might have happened.

And of course, as always, the assumption of a textual error may really be only a cover for our failure to understand the language or the idiom.

Beyond these unrecoverable sorts of errors, there are two categories of errors that may be distinguished and often corrected: errors due to an unintentional, mechanical lapse on the part of the copyist (often called Errors of Reading and Writing), and two, errors that are the result of deliberate alteration (called Intentional Alterations).

a. Errors of Reading and Writing

1. Confusion of similar letters In Hebrew, there are several letters which look very similar to one another: the B and K, R and D, H and T, W and Y.
2. Transposition of Letters,
3. Haplography — a fancy word that means when there were two or more identical or similar letters, groups of letters, or words all in sequence, one of them gets omitted by error. Of course, there is some evidence that some of these supposed “errors” are actually equivalent to English contractions like “don’t” instead of “do not” and therefore are not errors at all.
4. Dittography — another fancy word that refers to an error caused by repeating a letter, group of letters , a word or a group of words. The opposite, really, of Haplography.
5. Homoioteleuton — an even fancier word which refers to the error that occurs when two words are identical, or similar in form, or have similar endings and are close to each other. It is easy in this sort of situation for the eye of the copyist to skip from one word to the other, leaving out everything in between.
6. Errors of Joining and Dividing Words. This is more a problem in the NT than it is in the OT, for while the Greek manuscripts were written well into the Medieval period without spacing or dividing signs between words, there is no evidence that this was EVER the case with the OT Hebrew texts. In fact, the evidence is very strong to the contrary; inscriptions on walls from the time of Hezekiah actually had dots between each word to separate them from each other.

b. Deliberate Alterations

The Samaritan Pentateuch, as an example, is notorious for its purposeful changes designed to help legitimize some of their sectarian biases.

A more substantive change in the Hebrew text came after the Babylonian captivity in the time of Ezra (fifth century BC) when the alphabet changed from the Old Hebrew Script to the Aramaic Square Script — in which all copies of the OT except for the Samaritan Pentateuch are written.

It should not surprise us that there have been a certain amount of alteration in the text over time, since the Bible was not intended to be the object of scholarly study but rather was to be read by the whole believing community as God’s word to them. Thus, the text would undergo adaptations to fit the linguistic needs of the community. For instance in Isa 39:1 the Masoretic Text preserves a rare word, hazaq, which has the sense of “to get well, recuperate.” The community that produced the Dead Sea scrolls altered this word to the more common Hebrew word for “to get well”, “zayah”. Other examples of adaptation to colloquial usage are likely. The lack of early material for the OT makes it impossible to demonstrate these sorts of alterations on a larger scale. But a few small alterations are easily demonstrable.

The treatment of the divine name Baal is an example of deliberate change for theological reasons. In personal names which included the word “Baal”, which simply means “master” or “lord”, the scribes deliberately replaced “Baal” with “Bosheth,” which means “shame”. Hence, Jonathan’s son was actually named “Meribbaal” rather than “Mephibosheth” (cp 1Ch 8:34; 9:40 and 2Sa 9:6; 19:24; 21:7).

Another example of deliberate alteration is found in Job 1:5,11 and Job 2:5,9 — where we now read the word “berek”, to bless (with God as the object) even though we should expect to find the word “qalal”, to curse. The scribes replaced the offensive expression “to curse God” with a euphemism — motivated no doubt by their fear of taking God’s name in vain.

“Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth” (Mat 6:19), but…

“Lay up treasures in heaven” (v 20) — for…

“Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also” (v 21).

This is perhaps the most comprehensive and searching of all the commands of Christ, because it deals with the whole direction and motivation and purpose of life. Broadly defined, “treasures on earth” means

anything

related to this present mortal life.

The natural way is to accumulate “treasures” of many different kinds. “Mammon” (v 24) includes riches, material possessions, and pleasures. This desire to lay up treasures… this acquisitiveness (a nice word for simple greed!) is so universally taken for granted that it is almost heresy to question it. It is the foundation assumption of almost all advertising. Even many “believers” consider it “foolish” and “impractical” even to try to imitate Christ in this respect, and quote such passages as 1Ti 5:8 and Ecc 9:10 with more than usual vigor, to help set “the proper balance”!

How much impact does this command of Christ have upon us? Whether we consider job promotions, or “consumer goods”, or that hazy Valhalla of materialistic indulgence called “the good life”, how many times have any of us made the conscious decision?: “No! I will go no further. I have more than I really need already. I will not pamper myself!” Probably, for most of us, not nearly often enough. It is in our natures (and simply learning “the Truth” does not change those natures!) to want “treasures” both in heaven and on earth, to seek both salvation and present advantage. It is so easy to forget that Christ specifically said we cannot have both:

“Ye cannot serve God and mammon” (Mat 6:24).

God wants us to be different from the world, with our minds on very different things. Of course, most of us

must

work, in one way or another, to provide for necessities. Certainly Jesus worked at a trade until the time came for his special mission. And Paul, as he moved about the ecclesias, found work from place to place so as not to be a burden to the believers. But for them these daily affairs had importance only insofar as they were related to eternal things. “Seek ye

first

the kingdom” (v 33) was the rule of Christ’s life, and of Paul’s life. Is it the rule of our lives?

Seven reasons

“Do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on” (v 25, RSV). It is a revolutionary concept, totally foreign to our natural inclinations. But Jesus does not bid us obey him without reasons. He gives, in fact,

seven good reasons

why this philosophy makes sense:

• v 25: Life itself is more important than those things that sustain it. If our lives come from God and are held in His hand, then certainly, when we do our part faithfully in the “great adventure” of dedication and service, the lesser matters will be taken care of.
• v 26: The birds do not make frantic provision. They do not worry or scheme or plan. And you, says Jesus, are much more important than they (Mat 10:29-31).
• v 27: “Which of you by being anxious can add one cubit to his span of life?” (RSV).
• vv 28-30: If God takes such care for the flowers that soon will shrivel in the heat, will He not provide much better for you, His children, made in His image?
• v 32a: The nations that do not know God worry and hoard riches. Surely you will not be like them!
• v 32b: Your Heavenly Father knows what you need. He will not forget.
• v 34: “One day at a time”: The world is such an evil place that we need as much of our mental resources as can be spared to face the spiritual trials of today.

To borrow worries from next week is to overburden our capabilities and risk failure in spiritual pursuits.

“For thou art my God”

We recognize that the “world”, even the nominally “Christian” world, does not heed Christ’s advice. But do

we

do any better, or are we swept up and molded into conformity with the world around us? This is an age dedicated to getting more and yet more money, in order to spend it on more and yet more selfishness: fine houses, fine foods, expensive trips, and the worship (yes, it is “idolatry” — Col 3:5!) of car and garden and, last but not least, our own adorned, deodorized, tanned, and groomed selves! It is an age of narcissism; millions succumb to the blandishments of “health spas” and “country clubs”, to exercise, and jog, and diet, and build the new, improved “You”. One cannot help but draw the analogy to Isaiah’s bitterly ironic description of the idolater — who seeks out a tree trunk and cuts and shapes and polishes it into a natural beauty, finally to fall down and worship it:

“Deliver me, for

thou

art my god” (Isa 44:14-17).

Different? Or the same?

What are our ambitions, our goals in life? Are they different than the world, or are they all too similar? Are our older folks eager for retirement, so they can take it easy and enjoy life? Are our middle-aged folks keen on “security”? Are our younger folks caught up in the “timetable syndrome” — get an education, get a good job, get married, get a house, “get ahead” — and each goal by a certain date, or they are falling behind? And if they — the young ones — are this way,

whose

example have they followed?

What sets us apart from the masses around us who have no true hope? Is it enough that we believe differently, without living differently? Do we preach “separateness from the world” one day a week, and then live the other six days as though we were still very much a part of that world? In our pious preaching, do we even manage to convince ourselves that we are really following Christ’s example?

“Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth.”

The use of our money may be the “touchstone”, the truest indicator, of our heart’s desires. Why? Because the obtaining and the using of money makes up so great a part of our daily lives — we are

always

spending money! — so that our

ordinary

life must be much the same in nature as our

ordinary

ways of spending money. If we spend our money for purchases that appeal to pride or pleasure or ostentation, then we are demonstrating in the most practical way possible that those characteristics have firm hold on our lives, to the exclusion of God’s truth.

If I had extra arms or legs or eyes, that I did not need, that I could not use, and instead of giving them to the lame or the blind, I locked them away in a vault or displayed them on hooks in my living room, I would be a selfish fool. None of us would be so stupid, would we? But what if, for “arms” or “legs”, we substitute “money”?

Common objections

There are several common objections to giving money to help the unfortunate. What is so attractive about these objections is that they masquerade as Scriptural, wise, and prudent — putting “a good face” on the greed that hides behind them:

“Since Jesus said, ‘The poor you have with you always’ (John 12:8), and we cannot change the world, why should we bother trying?”: But Jesus did not say, “Forget the poor because they are always there.” He said, in effect, “You will always have opportunities to help the poor.” When Jesus was present, his followers lavished gifts upon him, and they did well. But now that he is absent, we may forget that we can give gifts to Jesus just as well by helping his poor brethren. Who would ignore the needs of the Master? But now he sits at the right hand of God, and he can no longer use the cup of cold water, the food, the clothing.

But someone else can!

One of Christ’s parables was most explicit as to the grounds of rejection at his judgment. It is enlightening to note that the wicked were not rejected for holding some false doctrine. They were not rejected for failing to preach the Truth. They were not even rejected for neglecting to attend a specified number of ecclesial meetings. They

were

rejected because they ignored the simple, material needs of their brethren, and thereby they ignored Christ (Mat 25:41-45)!

“If I am not careful and prudent (which really means ‘selfish’), I may give charity to someone who does not deserve it, or someone who does not use it properly”: This is a common Christadelphian “worry”, And it sounds all too much like the businessman proclaiming to the board of directors the “virtue” of the preservation of capital. But in showing love for others through our material gifts, we are exemplifying the character of our Father in Heaven, who sends His rain on the just and the unjust (Mat 5:45). God loves us whether we deserve it or not. He loves us even when we definitely do not deserve it. He loves us even when we do despite to His grace and turn our backs on His outstretched hand. He is not “careful” or “responsibly prudent” about His gifts.

“By giving away my money (or the ecclesia’s money), I encourage others to be beggars and irresponsible”: But then, why should I ever forgive anyone? It will just “encourage” him to do wrong again. Or why should I give medicine to a sick person? It might just “encourage” him to get sick again.

“It’s more important to use our money in preaching the Truth than to give it to the needy”: This is the only one of the four common objections to charity that can stand up to any examination at all. It is true that to give a starving man the gospel is better than to give him a crust of bread. But it can hardly be denied that both could be useful!

The only response to this objection is: If you really believe this, then do it! Do not be like the Pharisees who cried “Corban” when reminded that others could use their material help, and then when the need was past, kept it for themselves!

The only other thing to be said here is that surely there are resources lying dormant which are sufficient for sizeable efforts on both fronts. At the absolute minimum, resources are available so that our own spiritual “family” at home and abroad need not suffer hunger and illness, while their “brethren” are well-off and with goods to spare.

---

Christ gave everything, even life itself, for us. What can we give him? What “price-tag” do we put on our redemption? “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

I never knew pain; So I never learned compassion.

I always got my way very quickly; So I never learned patience.

I never had a friend in need; So I never learned generosity.

I never lacked for food or raiment; So I never learned thankfulness.

I was never wronged by anyone; So I never learned forgiveness.

I always found it easy to accomplish my goals; So I never learned discipline.

I never had any desires that I was forbidden to indulge; So I never learned self-control.

I never learned any godly traits through trial; So I never entered the Kingdom.

“Dear friends, do not be surprised at the painful trial you are suffering, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice that you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when his glory is revealed” (1Pe 4:12,13).

“Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him” (Jam 1:12).

God has given instructions to His servants in many different ways; He has spoken “at sundry times and in divers manners”, as the apostle puts it, and He has chosen very different instruments to convey the messages. The perfection of divine wisdom was revealed in a divinely perfect man who is to us “wisdom and righteousness and sanctification and redemption.” Divine wisdom has also come to us through very imperfect men who have been “wisdom” and warning.

In many ways the most remarkable example of divine instruction coming through a faulty man is in the writings of Solomon the son of David. Solomon would seem to have been the most favoured of mortals; the son of a great king and the heir to the throne, coming into power at the most favourable time in his nation’s history when all enemies were subdued and when even Egypt sought alliance with the growing strength of Israel. Solomon had wealth in abundance, he had bodily health and such vigorous mentality that according to Jewish tradition he could speak all the languages known in his day. Finally, in addition to all this God granted to him a special wisdom so that he became a vehicle for the conveyance of divine instruction to mankind. He is the supreme example of the ease with which natural blessing may be turned into spiritual curse, of how a man who knows may fail to perform, and of how the treasures of divine knowledge and wisdom may be contained in an “earthen vessel” which perishes even while it conveys imperishable truth.

In writing of the Proverbs there is no difficulty in applying the lessons to the circumstances of our own time. They are astonishingly “up to date”. There is vitality and freshness in the Scriptures after all the centuries that have passed since the words were written. A sermon only a hundred years old seems old-fashioned and dead, but the words of scripture are continually new and living. They keep pace with a growing intelligence, yielding further messages as we are able to receive them. “The dark sayings of the wise” often seem perfectly clear and simple. They do not in any way obscure truth or confuse the mind of a reader. They are simple in the first message that they yield, but that is not all that they contain. The darkness is in hidden depths.

The Proverbs are not intended merely for one class of reader or one grade of intelligence. Their appeal is universal. “A wise man will hear and increase in learning, and a man of understanding will attain unto sound counsel.” Indeed in this as in so many human lessons, those who would seem to need the instruction least get the most out of it, while those who need it most refuse to listen. This incongruity is noted in the first chapter of the book. It is the wise man who hears and increases his knowledge. “Fools despise wisdom and instruction.”

There is a fundamental truth regarding the human mind which everyone ought to know and which in all probability everyone will claim to know when once it is mentioned. We refer to the fact that the mind is so constituted that we are bound to learn gradually. Some can take the successive steps much quicker than others, but it is always by steps that we make any advance. The best way of learning, in fact the only satisfactory way, is in the manner of a child. It involves much repetition; we pass repeatedly over the same mental track, but each time makes it a little deeper, a little clearer, and perhaps carries it a little further. A man has so much in his mind that he may be able to put thoughts together much more rapidly than is possible for a child, but in this essential matter of forming really fresh impressions, our aptitude diminishes as we grow older. There is no such thing as sudden enlightenment, for we are not able to receive it. It is possible to concentrate a great amount of instruction in few words, but those few words are unintelligible to a man who is unprepared. We have heard lectures which would express a great mass of truth to hearers who were well prepared, but the only definite impression made on a complete stranger was a headache. Indeed, as we have often remarked, a book entirely filled with new ideas would be as unintelligible as one written in an unknown tongue. Take a text book regarding some technical matter that you have never studied and you will make nothing of it. It may be an excellent book giving all the main facts that are known concerning the subject under review. It would be sudden enlightenment if you were able to grasp the meaning of it all at a single reading, but that is impossible. If you want to understand it you have to learn in the ordinary way, gradually building up from that which you already know and with much repetition as knowledge is extended. In other words, you have to learn in the manner of a child.

It is worth while to emphasize this truth, for so many people in later life, and perhaps especially in this generation, become impatient of instruction that might help them. Some teaching is rejected because it is new and they can make nothing out of it, everything else is despised because it is old and they know all about it. With less aptitude for receiving new impressions than was once theirs, they decline to pass with childlike interest along a well trodden path of thought and so they never carry it any further.

This is not an age for serious reading. Millions of people with all the advantages of modern education pass through life without ever reading a single good book. They read a great deal of trash and perhaps Macaulay’s dictum is true that it must be a very bad book to be worse than no book at all, but this is only a negative recommendation. Much can be learned by good reading if the student is willing to learn in the manner of the inquiring and interested child, pleased to renew acquaintance with that which is well known and anxious to understand that which seems new and obscure.

One who tries to write with the sole object of serving and helping must have two questions before his mind. Can I give some instruction or suggest thoughts that will be helpful? Can I write in a manner sufficiently interesting for people to read? It is easy to do either of these things alone but difficult to combine them, yet the combination must be effected if we are to achieve our purpose. The Lord Jesus suggested the right way. The instructed scribe must be like a householder bringing forth from his treasures things new and old. They must not be all new or no one would understand, but if possible some of the treasures must be new at least to some readers. It may be possible, too, to show the old in a new light so that even those who have forgotten how to learn may be stimulated into a revival of interest. It is not merely in the matter of humility that we need to become like children. Those who seek the Kingdom of God also need the childlike interest in things both new and old and the child’s readiness to learn, step by step, carrying the old thought a little further.

(PrPr)

The tabernacle built in the days of Moses was the center of divine worship in Israel. It was a figure for the time then present, indicating that the gifts and sacrifices being offered at that time — while good and righteous and from God — were not yet the perfect sacrifice, which was yet to come (Heb 9:9).

Nevertheless, that tabernacle was glorious: its plans were divinely revealed, its workmen specially endowed, and all its materials were brought “out of Egypt”. It was built, as God told Moses, on the “patterns of things in the heavens” (Heb 9:23). As there was an earthly tabernacle, so there had been before — and still is — a heavenly tabernacle.

The heavenly sanctuary pictured in the Apocalypse, or Revelation, contains cherubim, a seven-branched lampstand, officiating priests (the angels), and the overshadowing glory of God (Rev 4:5,7,10). This is the model upon which the Almighty works.

The Apostle John (who received the visions of the Apocalypse) might have seen from Patmos, looking eastward, a tabernacle pattern written large on the earth:

• Directly in front of him, he would have seen Jerusalem, with its most holy place, where dwelt the glory of God;
• To his left, looking north, he would have seen the seven ecclesias of Asia Minor, corresponding to the seven-branched lampstand [in the Old Testament, north and south are left and right respectively — with orientation toward the rising sun being assumed];
• To his right, looking south, there was Egypt, the “breadbasket” of the ancient world, reminding him of the special shewbread in the tabernacle;
• Right beside Patmos, there was the Mediterranean Sea, symbolizing the laver, or “sea of glass”;
• All around were the prayers of the saints, arising like incense from the altar of burnt incense (cp Rev 5:8; 8:3,4; Psa 141:2); and
• Behind him was Greece and Rome and the rest of Europe: all the “court of the Gentiles”.

The whole tabernacle was erected on bare ground, that is the “dust of the earth”. In figurative terms, it was to be built upon the foundation of humanity, and God Himself was to dwell among men, and be glorified in their midst.

Thus the tabernacle foreshadowed God manifestation, in three distinct stages:

1. justification, or mental [lampstand = light; laver = baptism];
2. sanctification, or moral [shewbread, memorial table; incense = prayer]; and
3. glorification, or physical [the most holy place, with the glory of God].