Benjamin L. Gladd

4 Principles for Doing Biblical Theology

Written by Benjamin L. Gladd |
Friday, September 20, 2024
Once we’ve detected the Old Testament quotation or allusion and explored the Old Testament background, now we must take a step back and ask the million-dollar question: How is the apostle using the Old Testament? New Testament writers don’t interpret and apply the Old Testament the same way each time. Most contemporary readers assume the apostles only use the Old Testament along an axis of promise and fulfillment. While the apostles certainly read the entire sweep of the Old Testament as anticipating Christ (Luke 24:27, 44; John 5:39), they often use the Old Testament to undergird a moral principle or to make a simple analogy. 

I don’t remember the first time I heard the words “biblical theology.” I do, though, remember the first time hearing a professor trace a theme through the Scriptures and connect it to Christ and the church. I was mesmerized.
I grew up in a dispensational environment, so it wasn’t natural for me to read the Bible as a whole, to read the Old Testament in view of Christ and his work. Perhaps this is why I’m so passionate about reading the two Testaments in concert.
Biblical theology concerns the sweep of God’s plan of redemption from Genesis to Revelation. It studies the plotline of Scripture, taking inventory of its themes and watching how these themes intersect with one another eventually climaxing in Christ and the new creation. In the last three decades, there have been a plethora of books on biblical theology. But as much as I enjoy reading these books and listening to biblical-theological sermons, I don’t come across many resources that instruct the church on how to “do” biblical theology.
Robust biblical theology is always wedded to Scripture, because biblical theology prevents artificial connections that can lead to odd or spurious theological conclusions. Good biblical theology is textual, always rooted in Scripture’s soil. A healthy way—perhaps the best way—to do biblical theology is to follow the lead of the apostles and examine how the apostles wed the Old Testament to their discourse. Once we discover these inner-biblical links, we can organically build on them.
Let’s examine the well-known passage of Luke 2:32 as a case study for doing good biblical theology and discover four important principles.
1. Look for Old Testament quotations and allusions.
The apostles quote the Old Testament about 350 times and allude to it 3,000 to 4,000 times. With all these inner-biblical connections, we should be in the habit of reading the New Testament expectantly. When we consult the cross-references in the margins of our Bible, we discover that Luke 2:29–32 contains a battery of allusions to Isaiah:
Lord, now you are letting your servant depart in peace, according to your word;for my eyes have seen your salvation [Isa. 40:5; 49:6; 52:10]that you have prepared [40:3] in the presence of all peoples,a light for revelation to the Gentiles [42:6; 49:6; 52:10], and for glory to your people Israel.
Here in the hymn, known as the Nunc Dimittis, Simeon extols God and predicts that Jesus is the source of Israel’s “salvation” who will become “a light for revelation to the Gentiles” (Luke 2:32). For our purposes here, we’ll focus solely on Simeon’s allusion to Isaiah 49:6 (cf. 24:47).
2. Examine the Old Testament context.
The second step is a tall task because we must consider the immediate and broad context of the Old Testament quotation or allusion.
Read More
Related Posts:

Sleep like a King: Why Jesus Slept before Calming the Storm

Written by Benjamin L. Gladd |
Tuesday, August 27, 2024
The Christian life is marked by trust in God and his promises. At our conversion, we trust God’s promise to deliver us from our sin on account of Christ’s work. But don’t we continue to trust those same promises throughout our lives? Every morning, we must remind ourselves of God’s faithfulness in the gospel. Christ lived, died, rose, and ascended to the heavenly throne for us.

There’s nothing better than a good night’s sleep. When my wife and I had our first kid, Judah, 14 years ago, we prized sleep above all else. One of us napped while the other took care of the baby. We’ve never been so tired in our lives.
In his narrative account of the stilling of the storm, Mark tells his readers that Jesus was “asleep on the cushion” (Mark 4:38). Why mention that Jesus was sleeping? Was he exhausted from a hard day’s work?
From Teaching to Sleeping
Grasping the context of Jesus’s sleeping during the onslaught of the storm is critical. After Jesus relates several parables on the kingdom of God (vv. 1–34), he commands the disciples to “go across to the other side” of the Sea of Galilee (v. 35). We also learn that the sea crossing takes place “on that day, when evening had come” (v. 35). This is the same day that Jesus taught the parables on the kingdom. By aligning the sea crossing with the kingdom parables, Mark invites his readers to relate the nature of the kingdom with what will transpire on the sea.
As the storm rages and waves crash into the boat, we encounter one of the strangest lines in all of Mark’s Gospel: “But he [Jesus] was in the stern, asleep on the cushion” (v. 38). The flow of the narrative is jarring, since we expect Jesus to be awake in such dire circumstances. His behavior is also perplexing because this is the only passage that mentions him sleeping. You typically sleep because you’re, well, tired, and this passage mentions nothing of the sort. Why is Jesus asleep? Let’s consider the significance of the sea and the symbolic value of sleep.
Chaos of the Sea
God’s enemies dwell in the sea, as the Old Testament is replete with texts that describe the sea as the embodiment of death, rebellion, and chaos (e.g., Ex. 14:16–31; Ezek. 32:2; Dan. 7:2). Even Mark’s use of the word “sea” is noteworthy, because “lake” is a more apt description (e.g., Luke 5:1, 2; 8:22, 23). Could it be that the storm on the “sea” of Galilee symbolizes a demonic horde’s attempt to thwart the gospel’s spread? I think so.
While it may seem strange to view the storm as a demonic attack, notice Jesus’s response: “He [Jesus] awoke and rebuked [epetimēsen] the wind and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still [pephimōso]!’” Why rebuke a storm?
Read More
Related Posts:

An Odd Detail That Points to Christ’s Cosmic Reign

Written by Benjamin L. Gladd |
Monday, August 12, 2024
The Gospel writers include only the most pertinent information in their narratives. They don’t give us every historical detail at their disposal. For example, here in Mark 16:5, only one angel is found in the tomb, whereas Luke 24:4 says there were two. Is this a contradiction? No, Mark doesn’t claim there was only one angel. He simply aims his spotlight on the one angel and how that angel functions in the scene. The evangelists only included details that hold interpretive value.

Good stories often include odd details. But what first strikes the reader as odd or random may later turn out to be interesting and insightful. Have you noticed, for example, that Doc Brown’s bandana in Back to the Future Part III is made from the same material as his shirt in Part II? What appears to be a run-of-the-mill piece of clothing takes on new significance when it’s viewed in light of the larger narrative.
There’s a similarly odd but significant detail in Mark 16. The ending of Mark’s Gospel has long been problematic for some commentators because it lacks an explicit resurrection appearance (vv. 1–8). Matthew, Luke, and John narrate Jesus appearing to the disciples and to two women. But an odd detail in Mark’s ending may be one reason Jesus doesn’t make a post-resurrection appearance in this Gospel. Could an angel’s enigmatic posture hold an important clue?
Vivid Description
Mark 16 opens with three women—Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of John and James, and Salome—approaching Jesus’s tomb at dawn on Sunday (vv. 1–2). On their way, the women wonder who could roll away the large stone that sealed the tomb. But when they arrived, to their surprise, the stone had been rolled away (vv. 3–4).
The women ventured into the tomb and observed “a young man sitting on the right side [kathēmenon en tois dexiois], dressed in a white robe” (v. 5) Mark divulges three vivid details here: the presence of an individual (“young man”), the man’s apparel (“white robe”), and the man’s posture and location (“sitting on the right side”).
Repeated Wording
These concrete details certainly underscore the three women’s eyewitness account, but perhaps there’s another significant reason Mark mentions them. He may have included the odd detail of the angel’s “sitting on the right side” (kathēmenon en tois dexiois) because of its symbolic significance.
A literal rendering of the phrase is “seated on the right.” Often, the adjective “right” (dexios) occurs by itself and lacks a noun, so the context determines the implied noun (e.g., Matt. 6:3; Mark 10:40; Luke 1:11). In Mark 16:5, the “right” likely means the “right side” of the bench inside the tomb. But “sitting at the right” only occurs two other times in Mark’s Gospel:
David himself, in the Holy Spirit, declared, “The Lord said to my Lord, ‘Sit at my right hand [kathou ek dexiōn], until I put your enemies under your feet.’” (12:36)
Read More
Related Posts:

The Other Lord’s Prayer

The KJV translation of the Lord’s Prayer is one of the most well-known portions of Scripture in the West. But we find the Lord’s Prayer twice in the Gospels — once in Matthew (6:9–13) and once in Luke (11:1–4). Doubtless Jesus delivered this prayer on multiple occasions. While the Matthew and Luke versions are remarkably similar, there are a handful of important differences. The most obvious difference is Luke’s omission of “Your will be done” and “Deliver us from evil.” In this article, however, we will briefly sketch two of the subtler differences and apply these insights to our personal lives.

Before we comment on a handful of unique features of the Lord’s Prayer in Luke, we will first examine one common, salient denominator between the two presentations of the Lord’s Prayer (a point I expand upon further in my Handbook on the Gospels). Both evangelists underscore the name “Father” at the beginning of the prayer (Matthew 6:9; Luke 11:2).

Our Father

This appellation is odd, as Jews typically do not address God as their “Father.” The Old Testament primarily casts God as Israel’s covenant-keeping King who rules over the cosmos and graciously commits himself to preserving his people. This explains why the typical names are, for example, “Lord,” “Yahweh,” and “God.” While the Old Testament presents Israel’s God as Father on a few occasions (Exodus 4:22–23; Deuteronomy 1:29–31; 32:6; Psalm 103:13–14; Proverbs 3:11–12; Isaiah 63:16; 64:8; Malachi 2:10), the title appears relatively rarely.

In the four Gospels, on the other hand, Jesus’s favorite term for addressing God is “Father” (for example, Matthew 10:32; Mark 8:38; Luke 2:49; John 5:17). Furthermore, Jesus, on a number of occasions, claims that God is also the “Father” of the disciples (Matthew 5:16, 48; 6:1; Mark 11:25; Luke 6:36; 11:13; 12:32; John 14:7, 21). What accounts for the shift of language from the Old Testament to the New? Richard Bauckham argues that “Jesus may have understood Abba to be the new name of God that corresponded to the new beginning, the new exodus, the new covenant with his people that God was initiating” (Jesus: A Very Short Introduction, 67). Just as God gives Israel a distinct name for himself in the exodus (Exodus 3:14–15), so now God receives another name in the second exodus.

The term “Father,” then, would include not only a new dimension of intimacy but also a new revelatory description of Israel’s Lord. God, the Father, will now be known by his work of redemption in his Son. The Lord’s Prayer, then, is primarily marked by pleading to God to continue working out the new eschatological phase in his program — the long-awaited second exodus.

Teach Us to Pray

Now that we can appreciate the trajectory of the Lord’s Prayer more fully, let us consider how Luke frames the prayer. The Lord’s Prayer in Matthew (6:9–13) occurs within the famed Sermon on the Mount (5:1–7:29), whereas Luke places the account in Jesus’s journey from Galilee to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51–19:27).

All three Synoptic Gospels record Jesus’s journey from Galilee to Jerusalem, but Luke reserves more than one-third of his narrative for the journey. This portion of Luke’s Gospel is largely filled with parables and difficult sayings. The crowds (and Luke’s audience) must be willing to suffer for the sake of the kingdom and embrace a Messiah who suffers and bears God’s curse. The Lord’s Prayer, then, serves as a guide for communing with God, asking him to achieve his redemptive purposes in the life of believers, and solidifying one’s commitment to him.

“The Lord’s Prayer serves as a guide for communing with God.”

Luke dedicates more space to Jesus’s prayer life than any other evangelist (3:21; 5:16; 6:12; 9:18, 29; 22:41, 44). Jesus prays at critical moments in his ministry. Indeed, prayer bookends his ministry: we find Jesus praying at his baptism in the Jordan River (3:21) as well as on the cross (23:46). We should assume that the disciples, like many first-century Jews, would have sought a robust prayer life. They would have recited the Shema (Deuteronomy 6:5–9) in the morning and evening and often prayed in their local synagogues.

The second half of Luke 11:1 reads, “When [Jesus] finished [praying], one of his disciples said to him, ‘Lord, teach us to pray.’” This verse gives us the impression that the disciples noticed something peculiar about Jesus’s prayer life. Was it when Jesus prayed, how he prayed, or what he prayed? Was it all three?

Each Day’s Bread

Five imperatives are found in both Matthew’s and Luke’s depictions of the Lord’s Prayer — “hallowed,” “come,” “give,” “forgive,” and “lead . . . not.” The first two commands are somewhat synonymous since they entail the expansion of God’s presence throughout the cosmos (Luke 11:2). The remaining three petitions constitute the manner in which the first two are carried out. That is, the requests for provision (11:3), forgiveness of sin, and deliverance from temptation (11:4) entail the responsibilities of the disciples in the ever-expanding kingdom.

Matthew’s Gospel reads, “Give us today our daily bread” (6:11), whereas Luke adds, “Give us each day our daily bread” (11:3). The addition of “each day” (to kath’ hēmeran) accents the disciples’ radical dependence upon God’s provision in their lives. This precise idea of relying upon God providing “bread” for his people recalls Jesus’s first wilderness temptation, where the devil entices Jesus to transform a stone into bread (Luke 4:3). Jesus refuses and then quotes Deuteronomy 8:3: “It is written, ‘Man shall not live on bread alone’” (Luke 4:4). In Deuteronomy 8, the general point is that Israel must be wholly dependent upon God’s life-giving promises and presence. If Israel trusts God, then the nation will enter the promised land, “a land where bread will not be scarce and you [Israel] will lack nothing” (Deuteronomy 8:9).

The Lord’s Prayer likely has in mind Jesus’s wilderness temptation and Deuteronomy 8 — a passage that, in turn, looks back to Israel’s wandering in the wilderness and God’s feeding them daily with manna. Because Jesus succeeded in clinging to the promises of God by not transforming the stone into bread, he gained the victory over the devil. Jesus’s success in the wilderness empowers the disciples to conquer sin and thereby receive the “daily bread” of the Lord.

In a word, the daily provision of bread the Father delivers to his people concretely demonstrates that they have spiritually entered the promised land of the new creation. Perhaps, then, Luke’s addition of “each day” functions as a continual reminder of God’s end-time blessing in one’s life.

Forgive Our Sins

Luke’s prayer also contains another unique detail. Matthew’s Gospel reads, “Forgive our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors” (Matthew 6:12), but Luke’s Gospel states, “Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us” (Luke 11:4 NIV). The forgiveness of sins is exclusively bound up with Jesus’s atoning work on the cross.

Old Testament prophets, especially Isaiah, expected God to forgive the sins of his people at the end of history — a final, eschatological act of pardoning grounded in the servant’s faithful atoning ministry (Isaiah 43:25; 52:13–53:12; Jeremiah 31:34; Micah 7:19). Luke explicitly identifies Jesus as the long-awaited servant of Isaiah (Luke 2:32 [citing Isaiah 49:6]; 22:37 [citing Isaiah 53:12]). Forgiveness in the Lord’s Prayer, then, rests upon Jesus’s sacrificial death.

Remarkably, Jesus institutes the Lord’s Prayer before his work on the cross, but we must remember that all of Jesus’s life is oriented toward securing forgiveness of sins on the cross (see Luke 3:3, 21; 5:20–24; 7:47–49; 24:47). In addition, because Jesus’s followers fully identify with Jesus, they are endowed with the authority to grant “forgiveness” to others. What is true of the “servant” is true of his followers — the little “servants.”

Pray Like This

How do we apply these truths to our daily lives?

“Those forgiven have firsthand knowledge of the need for forgiveness.”

First, by asking God to provide us “each day our daily bread,” we admit our radical dependence on him, pleading with him to finish what he began. God has initially and spiritually placed us in the promised land of the new creation, but we still await the full transformation of our hearts and bodies.

Second, Jesus calls us to always ask God to grant us forgiveness of sins. While Christ died for our sins once for all, we continually come before the throne and plead with him to forgive the sins that beset us. In addition, he commands us to extend forgiveness to those who have offended us. Those forgiven have firsthand knowledge of the need for forgiveness, so we should never be tightfisted in granting it to others.

Scroll to top