Today I get to share with you the 3,000-year backstory to Tesla electric cars. But the story doesn’t start here in Silicon Valley. For that story we need to cross the country to America’s epicenter of innovation in the 1740s, to New England, and to the time of Benjamin Franklin and his lightning rod, for an electrifying story filled with lightning and thunder.

The Lightning Rod Arrives

In the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, churches built steeples high into the sky. And within those steeples they installed bells. And on those bells was often inscribed some form of the Latin phrase fulgura frango — translated, “I break up the lightning flashes.” Church bells did many things, including suppressing thunderstorms. It became a common practice, beginning in the medieval age and extending into the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, during a major thunderstorm, for local bellringers to climb up into the church’s steeple and ring the church bells loudly. By doing so they could — perhaps, perhaps — ward off the divine wrath and the devilish invasion in the skies.

That was the theory. But that theory was plagued by two design fails. First, the bells were cast metal. And second, those cast metal bells hung in the steeple, usually the town’s high-point. So, you can imagine how well this worked out for bell ringers! In France and Belgium alone, over the span of just three decades, nearly 400 bell towers were hit by lightning. Many of them burned down, killing more than 100 bell ringers (Electricity in the 17th and 18th Centuries, 341). In a twist of irony, during thunderstorms, townspeople were encouraged to keep their distance from churches — while the town’s pubs and shadier establishments almost always escaped untouched from the divine displeasure in the tempest.

So bell ringers were not fans of steeples in thunderstorms. But one man loved them. Benjamin Franklin. For him, the steeple was the perfect focal point for his lightning experiments. Franklin came to understand that “storm clouds contained electrical charges, notwithstanding their heavy loads of water.” Even though electricity was a fire, he theorized, “it was a different kind of fire, one that could coexist with water.” So, he developed the concept of a lightning rod to protect structures from fire by drawing off the electrical charge from lightning.

By 1750, he was proving his theory. He made little miniature houses and put gunpowder in them. Then, he’d strike the little house with a spark from a battery, and the mini-house would explode. On a second little house he installed a replica lightning rod, a wire, then struck the house with another spark. The house didn’t explode.

Theological Alarm Bells

But even as the evidence became indisputable, Franklin’s invention raised theological alarm bells. One pastor in Boston proposed that if you diverted God’s wrath of lightning into the earth, it would simply supercharge future earthquakes (Benjamin Franklin, 173). In fact, a major earthquake hit New England soon after Franklin began diverting bolts into the ground, seemingly proving this fear to be true.

John Adams, a future president, summarized what he was hearing from leaders in New England, that the lightning rod was “an impious attempt to rob the Almighty of his thunder, to wrest the bolt of vengeance out of his hand” (Stealing God’s Thunder, 111).

Across the Atlantic Ocean, the French, who loved Franklin, more eagerly adopted his lightning rod. But even there, the French pastor and famous physicist, Jean-Antoine Nollet, who bought in 100% to the rod’s effectiveness, refused to adopt it, saying the rod was, quote, “as impious to ward off heaven’s lightnings as for a child to ward off the chastening rod of its father” (Stealing God’s Thunder, 96).

To his dismay, Benjamin Franklin found himself locked inside a theology debate. “The more scientists knew about the workings of lightning and electricity, the less mysterious those phenomena appeared. The more one could control lightning’s fury, the less vulnerable the world seemed before God’s wrath” (Benjamin Franklin, 176). Franklin, it seemed, was stealing God’s thunder.

His lightning rods sparked a debate that split the eighteenth century. Is a lightning rod on a church steeple an act of faith? Or an act of God-thwarting unbelief? That’s the debate I want to settle today. Because if we can answer this, I think we will get clarity on electric cars and resolve one key tension Christians face here inside Silicon Valley, the epicenter of the most highly advanced technological society the world has ever known. And to understand our latest tech, we turn to an old book: the book of Job.

Where Is God in the Thunderstorm?

Job is an ancient book, perhaps the oldest book in the Bible. It’s about the sufferings of a man named Job — a kingly figure, a wealthy man, perhaps a local ruler. Then his life was upended, partly due to a major storm brought by Satan and permitted by God.

In Job we find the longest and most vivid sermon in the Bible on thunderstorms, from a young man named Elihu, the youngest of Job’s friends. Because he’s one of Job’s friends, we can put an asterisk on everything he says, though he seems especially trustworthy. But Elihu is not an infallible prophet. He’s not a professional theologian. He’s just a relatively trustworthy guy who affirms God’s sovereignty as he tries to figure out how weather patterns work. Elihu is a forerunner to Ben Franklin.

“Elihu is a forerunner to Ben Franklin.”

And so thunderstorms are a major theme in the book of Job. At the start, Job had 7,000 sheep and “very many servants,” but then a lightning storm hit, “the fire of God fell from heaven,” and it “burned up” his 7,000 sheep and “consumed” his many servants (Job 1:3, 16). So a storm of huge magnitude shatters Job’s life at the start of the book. And now we jump into the story at the end of the book. A second storm is brewing.

God’s Greatness from Afar

God will soon speak from this second thunderstorm, beginning in chapter 38. But in chapters 36 and 37 this thunderstorm is still gathering in the background. So imagine Elihu, the final human voice in Job, in the last speech of the book, setting up God’s dramatic entrance. That’s our scene. So, we find Elihu preaching on lightning as a thunderstorm brews behind him. Distant thunder is growling, the winds are picking up, the sun is shrouded, and lightning marches closer to Job. The storm is brewing. And God will speak from this storm, directly to Job. So this is the dramatic context of Elihu’s sermon we will study now in Job 36:24 and following.

In this thunderstorm we marvel at God, exult over his power, and witness his direct actions in creation. We pick up Elihu’s sermon here, as he speaks to his friend Job in Job 36:24–26:

“Remember to extol his work [thunderstorms],     of which men have sung.All mankind has looked on it;     man beholds it from afar.Behold, God is great, and we know him not;     the number of his years is unsearchable.”

So we meet the theme of this text: storms and God. God is eternal Spirit, wholly other than us. Ancient. Wise. A mystery beyond our understanding. But storms and natural laws are different. We can learn from them — within limits, Elihu says. The natural world is hard to understand, not because it cannot be known, but because it’s all happening from “afar” — far away, far up in the sky. Elihu wants to investigate God’s works in nature, but he can only see nature from a distance. We can understand the natural world today because we can zoom in closer. Weather balloons, drones, satellites, telescopes, microscopes — proximity is our scientific advantage. We can get close to storms. Elihu has none of these advantages.

God Is Invisible, Yet Present

And yet, this distance doesn’t stop Elihu from investigating God’s work over nature.

For he draws up the drops of water;     they distill his mist in rain,which the skies pour down     and drop on mankind abundantly. (Job 36:27–28)

This is amazing! Elihu delivers a “proto-scientific description of the formation of rain”(Job 21–37, 869). It’s primitive, but he’s on to atmospheric water cycles. He does not understand evaporation as we now understand it, but he’s pressing into a natural phenomenon with the scientific curiosity that will eventually lead to the discovery of evaporation — a law set in place by the Creator. So he’s inquiring into the atmospheric phenomena at play.

And as Elihu works to figure out storms, notice that he clings to two truths: God is invisible, but majestically present in his creation. That’s what I want you to see all over this text. We can’t see God; but we can see his acts.

So Elihu investigates nature, far off and full of mystery. But he knows this much: Every lightning strike is fired directly by God and is aimed at a specific target. That’s what we see next.

Present in Every Lightning Bolt

Can anyone understand the spreading of the clouds,     the thunderings of his pavilion? [There’s natural mystery here.]Behold, he scatters his lightning about him [where lightning bolts are, there God is]     and covers the roots of the sea. [More literally, he uncovers the roots of the sea — a lightning strike hits the sea and illuminates that underworld for a flash of a moment.]For by these [bolts] he judges peoples;     [and] he gives food in abundance. (Job 36:29–31)

So Elihu doesn’t fully understand the weather patterns. But he knows enough to see that rain gives food to all creatures — and that blessing is connected to lightning, and that lightning is connected to God. So on one hand, yes, the lightning expresses God’s displeasure. But lightning also expresses God’s love. Lightning judges. Lightning feeds. Lightning is complex, as we will see in a moment. But in every bolt, God is present, according to this incredible statement:

He [God] covers his hands with the lightning     and commands it to strike the mark. (Job 36:32)

God’s hands are charged with crackling lightning. You can’t help but think of Zeus and his thunderbolt — the most powerful, unrivaled weapon feared among all the pagan gods. Or the storm gods of Elihu’s age, who held lightning bolts in their hands (Job, 358). Those fictional characters are one-dimensional. But the living God of the universe truly holds thunderbolts in his hands. And not only does he hold them, he shoots them. And not only does he shoot them, he aims them. And not only does he aim them, this forked, zigzagging fire from heaven nails its bullseye every single time (The Book of Job, 480).

God never misses. And this is what led to the utter confusion of Bible-believing Christians in New England. The town bar is never tasered. But the church bells are bullseyes. What gives?

God Speaks Through Lightning

Whatever else lightning is, it’s never less than the presence of God shown to us in the natural world. God is here. He is speaking.

Its crashing declares his presence;     the cattle also declare that he rises.At this also my heart trembles     and leaps out of its place. (Job 36:33–37:1)

Thunder from the skies triggers a thunder inside Elihu’s chest. It does for us, too, right? This past summer we were driving home late in the desert, watching cloud-to-cloud strikes of a huge thunderstorm west of Phoenix — 20-mile-long bolts of lightning flashing like silent strobe lights across the black sky. And my son said, “Every time I see that, something inside of me moves.” Yes! Same for Elihu. Lightning sets off an internal thunder inside us.

Keep listening to the thunder of his voice     and the rumbling that comes from his mouth [that deep growl you hear in the distant storm as it marches close].[Until] Under the whole heaven he [God] lets it go,     and his lightning to the corners of the earth. (Job 37:2–3)

Ever felt that? Lightning hitting in every direction around you? North, south, east, west. And when a bolt flashes and hits especially close — what do we do? We count. One one-thousand, two one-thousand . . . boom!

After it [after the bolt] his voice roars;     he thunders with his majestic voice,     and he does not restrain the lightnings when his voice is heard.God thunders wondrously with his voice;     he does great things that we cannot comprehend. (Job 37:4–5)

“Whatever else lightning is, it’s never less than the presence of God shown to us in the natural world.”

Again, Elihu is not saying that we cannot understand nature. He’s saying that we cannot fully understand God’s purposes in nature. And we certainly cannot stop God’s fire from the sky. We sense our powerlessness (The Book of Job, 480). And yet every peal of thunder is the voice of God speaking.

God’s Purposes in the Storm

Back to Job, who is suffering in dust and ashes. Job’s “bitter” complaint was that God had left him in the dark and disappeared (Job 23:1–9). But Elihu corrects Job. God didn’t abandon Job. He is no absentee Creator. God is here. God’s closeness echoes in the skies in every peal of thunder — a point made in all four seasons.

For to the snow he says, ‘Fall on the earth,’     likewise to the downpour, his mighty downpour.He seals up the hand of every man,     that all men whom he made may know it.Then the beasts go into their lairs,     and remain in their dens. (Job 37:6–8)

By inclement weather, God seals the hand of every man. With his storms, he zip-ties our hands and places us under house arrest. Or as the NIV says: “he stops all people from their labor.” Blizzards and monsoons shut people inside their homes and beasts inside their caves.

Guiding Creatures Where He Wants Them

So God commands dumps of snow and torrents of rain. Why? Because he is positioning (and repositioning) each of his creatures as on a chessboard. In all four seasons, God uses his creation to guide the work of man. Major weather disruptions are one of God’s means to guide his creatures to where he wants them (The Book of Job, 480–481).

Delayed flights. Cancelled meetings. Viruses. If God chose to keep us all shut inside in 2020, it was no hard thing for him to pull off. God governs the business of his creatures through his created order — and very often through weather patterns. He governs our travels through snow, ice, lightning storms, power outages, flooding — you name it. All the seasons are included here. But winter especially.

From its chamber comes the whirlwind,     and cold from the scattering winds.By the breath of God ice is given,     and the broad waters are frozen fast. (Job 37:9–10)

Showing His Presence and Control

And then of course, again, God wields lightning.

He loads the thick cloud with moisture;     the clouds scatter his lightning. (Job 37:11)

Again, we’ve seen this. Elihu is on to evaporation. Water goes up, makes clouds thicken, and then lightning strikes, and that same water pours back down (Job 36:27–28). Elihu gets that. The NIV translates this verse, God “loads the clouds with moisture; he scatters his lightning through them.” So God shoots lightning from his hands. And he shoots them through an atmospheric channel (Job 38:26). Elihu is doing something remarkable here by making two points at the same time. (1) The unseen God is here. (2) His presence is mediated in the natural laws that govern the skies. He’s here. He’s in charge. And he’s leading storms like a leashed dog.

They turn around and around by his guidance,     to accomplish all that he commands them     on the face of the habitable world. (Job 37:12)

Bolts of Correction, Blessing, and Love

God harnesses the storm — leads it, directs it, so that every lightning bolt fulfills his will for creation. So what is his will? Three things, in verse 13.

Whether for correction     or for his land     or for love [ḥesed],     he causes it to happen. (Job 37:13)

So beyond God’s repositioning of his creatures, lightning fulfills his will in three other ways.

One, he uses bolts to chasten and correct sinners.

Two, he shoots bolts to rain down blessings on the thirsty land to feed all his creatures, including us.

“Lightning expresses God’s ‘hesed’ — his loyal love.”

Three, he sends bolts “for love.” Lightning expresses God’s ḥesed — his loyal love. Undying covenant love. So, if you can only imagine God and lightning in a one-dimensional context — like Zeus, some angry god firing off a pistol of lightning to whomever aggravates him — you’ll miss the love of God.

None of this means that it’s easy to interpret what each storm means, says Elihu. We know that God sends the storms. But we don’t know exactly why. And trying to figure out God’s intent in providence is a dangerous task. God’s will is complex. So Elihu is throwing serious side-eye to Job’s older friends who tried to draw definite conclusions from Job’s misfortunes.

Realigning Human Attitudes

Now, finally, as the storm builds up to God’s speech, Elihu makes eye contact with his suffering friend Job.

Hear this, O Job;     stop and consider the wondrous works of God.Do you know how God lays his command upon them     and causes the lightning of his cloud to shine? (Job 37:14–15)

Job desperately needs to realign his attitude. But what can change Job’s attitude in suffering? Consider the wonders of God in the natural world. Here’s a preview of what God is about to unleash in Job 38–42. He will speak to Job from a storm to remind Job of wonder after wonder after wonder in creation.

Traveling from Job to Tesla

But we end Job’s story here. Elihu is trying to understand lightning. He’s an observant man of faith. He trusts God. He marvels at the patterns in the atmosphere. He’s the Bible’s Ben Franklin, but with better theology. And he’s asking his friend Job, “Job, do you know how lightning works? Do you know about the electricity in the clouds, like batteries that hold a charge until it’s time to fire a bolt? Can you explain how water and fire coexist in the sky? No.”

For Job these are great mysteries. But for us? Not anymore. We understand how a lot of it works. And that’s where the tension with science arises. And so we need to move from Elihu to Ben Franklin to Nichola Tesla and down to the Tesla Model X and to the brand new F-150 EV truck, fittingly called the “Lightning.” Let me do that with six brief takeaways.

1. God fires every lightning bolt. He never misses.

God shoots lightning from his hands to a bullseye every time. Elihu makes this clear, and his words are confirmed by other Old Testament texts — namely Psalm 135 and Jeremiah 10. For some, this is news to you — a missing piece of your theology. God is present in lightning bolts. That’s not pagan superstition. That’s biblical orthodoxy.

2. God fires every lightning bolt through atmospheric channels. He ordains the means.

God shoots lightning from his hands to a bullseye every time, but this sovereign marvel does not stop Elihu’s curiosity. He still searches for the atmospheric means God uses in thunderstorms. Providence drives him into natural science, not away from it. Elihu is both trying to unriddle the mystery of God’s providence in the storm, and he’s trying to unriddle the atmospheric mechanics of a storm. And he’s doing both at the same time.

You can pursue science and believe in God without contradiction. So Elihu is simultaneously seeking to decipher the voice of God and atmospheric physics; the invisible world and the visible world; the spirit realm and the physical realm; the laws of providence and the laws of nature. He’s modeling faith-filled science, because these two worlds work in tandem.

3. God governs every natural law. We ignore them to our peril.

God governs his creation “by certain fixed laws.” Do those laws bend “and make allowance for” our mistakes? No, says the nineteenth-century preacher Charles Spurgeon: “Every violation of them is avenged,” Spurgeon says of the laws of lightning, offering this grisly example.

“The simple countryman, in his ignorance of the laws of electricity, is overtaken by a pelting storm, and to escape from the drenching rain he runs beneath some lofty tree to screen himself beneath its spreading branches. It is a law of nature that elevated points should attract the lightning: the man does not know this, he does not intend to defy his Maker’s natural law, but for all that, when the death-dealing fluid splits the tree it leaves a senseless corpse. The law does not suspend its operations though that man may be the husband upon whose life the bread of many children may depend, though he may have been one of the most guileless and prayerful of mankind, though he may have been utterly unconscious of having exposed himself to the force of a physical law of God, yet still he dies, for he has placed himself in the way of a settled law of nature, and it takes its course.”

The natural law is fixed. Be dumb with lightning and it will cost you — perhaps your life (MTPS, 22:13–15). Don’t be dumb with the fixed natural laws. That’s dangerous and deadly. Fear nature. Fear God.

4. Fear drives our inventors.

Necessity is the mother of invention. And so is fear. One way God ignites science and innovation is through fear. He uses all sorts of human desires to motivate our discoveries of creation, but fear is a biggie. Our fear drives us to understand, and understanding leads to discovery. So why do we understand electricity today? Because humans faced the sheer power of lightning, and were motivated to engineer. Fear drives man into God’s created patterns. And that fear is how you end up with the lightning rod.

5. Lightning rod strikes obey God.

So if God commands each bolt, it would be an act of unbelief to divert that bolt with a lightning rod, right? That’s the question we are back to.

And the answer is, no. Actually, God teaches us to make lightning rods. To divert the lightning is not an act of unbelief — but one that can be made in faith. This is because, as theologian Abraham Kuyper writes,

“When God accumulates electricity in the clouds and the possibility increases of a lightning strike that might endanger the lives of a family or their property, we are not only permitted but obligated to apply every means available to avert or at least mitigate this danger. It is none other than God himself who has included within nature this means to divert the lightning.… And when a dangerous bolt of lightning travels down along the metal rod and terminates in the ground, it is God himself who guides the lightning along that rod and who smothers the enormous spark in the earth. Humankind does not do this, and Satan does not do this; it is God. And whoever honors God’s majesty in the lightning that flashes, yet does not honor the majesty with which God draws this flashing lightning to the rod, grounding and guiding it away, takes from God half the honor due him” (Common Grace, 2:596)

Realize this: No bolt travels harmlessly down a lightning rod unless God directs it that way, through the innovation of man. When the bolt travels down the rod, God guides it there. This is the key theological point missing from 1750 New England, and for many Christians today — who fear that human innovation strongarms God, or makes him look weaker. No. That’s a myth. New tech never bullies our sovereign God. It reveals more of him, his patterns in creation, and his generosity to us. Leading to point 6.

6. No one sees God’s love in lightning like we do.

Once Ben Franklin proved decisively with a kite that clouds hold an electric charge, like a huge battery in the sky, he opened a floodgate of new human innovation. We could make battery farms. We could envision man-made lightning bolts to power cities. And “the power we now recognize in electricity God had already hidden in nature from the very hour of paradise.” The electrified age was hidden by God in the lightning bolt from the beginning of time. “In due time,” innovators were ordained to discover electricity, and to electrify cities and industries, although in doing so we “actually added nothing new to creation as such” (Pro Rege, 3:34).

The power was there all along. And if we had failed to harness electricity, we would have deprived God of the honor due to him. Electricity was hidden for millennia in the lightning bolt, a harnessed power that changed the world forever. In electricity we give God glory for lightning in ways that lightning alone cannot accomplish. Human innovation, the harnessing of this creation, magnifies the Creator’s brilliance more than a simple lightning storm. That’s the highest value and purpose possible for human tech — to disclose more of the Creator’s brilliance.

So Ben Franklin didn’t steal God’s thunder. No. He discovered lightning — diverted it — and introduced the world to electricity at the scale of what could eventually power cities. Electricity was not invented by Ben Franklin. Nor did it originate by inventors with the last names of Watts, Ampere, Volta, Faraday, Ohm, or Tesla. No. These innovators were raised up by God, at the right time, to discover and to divert and to harness what was hidden in plain sight from the beginning of creation. God was hiding electricity all along in lightning. Electricity was hidden in the bolt, awaiting discovery. And once we did, the age of electrification began — a watershed moment in human history — the electrified age — and it added nothing new to God’s creation! It was there all along. God used the fear of lightning to drive us to discover what now powers this room.

The natural lightning bolt that tears through the sky, and the artificial lightning bolt in the power plant that causes our lights to work right now, are equally from God. Yes, he uses means. Yes, he uses clouds. Yes, he uses power plants. But if Elihu were here today, he would say: Behold the love of God in the lightning bolt coursing through the wires of Silicon Valley, a power hidden in creation from day one in the lightning bolt. So why does your smartphone have power right now? The loyal love of God — his ḥesed.

God Over Lightning and Electricity

Let me attempt to summarize it all — and it’s a lot. Human fear of God in lightning drives us to discover the love of God in electricity. Elihu had no idea how much of God’s love to us was charged into the lightning bolt. He could never have predicted God’s love to thousands of COVID sufferers whose lives would be saved by ventilators. He could not have imagined God’s love in millions of heart defibrillators and pacemakers. Or in lights, air conditioning, dishwashers, computers, smartphones, televisions, electric cars—all the electrified things we take for granted every single day. All of them originated in the first cause of the electrified age—in the lightning bolt.

Elihu could never have imagined that the electricity hidden in lightning is animation, a life force, an invisible force coursing through wires to power farms, cities, homes, tools, industries. And now it’s nearly impossible for us to imagine life on this planet without electricity. Most of our jobs and hobbies and ministries are only possible because of it.

So, the challenge for us is this: Don’t ignore the God of the lightning bolt. Don’t take electricity from creation without giving your awe to the Creator who created every bolt of energy. Don’t hear the voice of God in lightning and then grow deaf to his glory and his love to us in the electricity powering our lives every day. As we see in Elihu himself, the utter transcendence and all-sufficiency of God does not stop us from investigating natural causes. It pushes us into the science of understanding how the means work. So we study physics and quantum physics. We study atmospheric phenomena, we harness those powers, then we use them to disclose the glory of God.

So don’t be dumb with electricity. Don’t stand under a tree in a lightning storm. And don’t use electricity to ignore the God who patterned electricity and who gave you this gift from his kindness. Put lightning rods on your steeples. Redirect the lightning. Harness its power. Make electric cars. And use every watt of power to do what lightning has always intended to do: to showcase the majesty and uniqueness and beauty of the Creator, who loves us lavishly with good gifts.

ABSTRACT: In a day when some evangelical seminaries no longer require the original languages, and with all the pressures of pastoral ministry, students and pastors may wonder whether they should bother learning (and keeping up) Greek and Hebrew. For good reasons, however, many of the most influential, spiritually powerful Christian leaders have prized the biblical languages. They knew that the Hebrew and Greek manuscripts, rather than translations, formed the inerrant word of God. They knew that faithful and fresh teaching relied on firsthand knowledge of the original text. And they knew that the biblical languages, though difficult to learn, can save much time and effort in the end.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors and Christian leaders, we asked Robert Plummer, Collin and Evelyn Aikman Professor of Biblical Studies at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, to offer reasons for learning Greek and Hebrew.

As a recent semester was about to begin, an article appeared in my social media feed. The president of a major evangelical seminary had written on, “Is It a Waste of Time for Seminary Students (and Pastors) to Learn the Biblical Languages?”1 It is not his response but the fact that he had to ask this question in the first place that irks me.

Do we ever see seminary presidents write on, “Is It a Waste of Time for Seminary Students to Learn Systematic Theology?” or “Is It a Waste of Time for Seminary Students to Learn Preaching?” What about the biblical languages seems to require a public apology for their inclusion in a seminary’s curriculum?

Regardless of what brought us here, the truth is that many people do question the value of the biblical languages for ministerial training, and I contend that the biblical languages are absolutely necessary. In what follows, I will offer three reasons the original languages are essential for ministerial training, followed by a consideration of three challenges in our day.2

So then, why are the biblical languages essential?

1. Because We Value the Word of God

I do not hesitate to affirm an English Bible as the inerrant word of God. In colloquial usage, no further clarification is needed. We must admit, however, that English Bible translations differ. In 1 John 1:1, the NET Bible translators have rendered the final five Greek words (peri tou logou tēs zōēs) with a parenthetical remark in English: “(concerning the word of life).” In the same translation, “word” is not capitalized, indicating the apostle John is referring to the gospel message as “the word of life.” On the other hand, the translators of the New Living Translation make a new sentence of the five Greek words (peri tou logou tēs zōēs) and capitalize “Word,” resulting in, “He is the Word of life.”

So, does 1 John 1:1 refer to Jesus as the incarnate Logos, or does it refer to the gospel message received by the congregation? One could argue that John intends some level of ambiguity in his original expression, encapsulating the meanings in both the NET Bible and the New Living Translation, but the English translations do not include such ambiguity. They land on distinct and different interpretations. We are forced to admit that at least one translation is wrong or deficient.

In the end, we do not affirm that the particular English words of an English Bible are breathed out by the Holy Spirit. We do make that affirmation, however, of the underlying Greek and Hebrew. Article 10 of the Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy is correct to affirm the inerrancy and complete truthfulness of the actual Greek and Hebrew words that the apostles and prophets wrote.

The famous New Testament scholar A.T. Robertson (1863–1934) was no doubt provocative when he said,

The real New Testament is the Greek New Testament. The English is simply a translation of the New Testament, not the actual New Testament. It is good that the New Testament has been translated into so many languages. The fact that it was written in the koine, the universal language of the time, rather than in one of the earlier Greek dialects, makes it easier to render into modern tongues. But there is much that cannot be translated. It is not possible to reproduce the delicate turns of thought, the nuances of language, in translation. The freshness of the strawberry cannot be preserved in any extract.3

Modern English Bibles go through periodic revisions. The wording in them is changed. Is this not an implicit acknowledgment that, though the translations are accurate, changes must be made so that they read more accurately?

God inspired the underlying Hebrew, Greek, and Aramaic words of Scripture, and if the Scripture is the ultimate authority for our lives and ministries, when disagreements happen, we must ultimately appeal to those Hebrew, Greek, and Aramaic grammatical constructions. In his first convocation address at Westminster Theological Seminary in 1929, J. Gresham Machen declared,

If you are to tell what the Bible does say, you must be able to read the Bible for yourself. And you cannot read the Bible for yourself unless you know the languages in which it was written. . . . In his mysterious wisdom [God] gave [his Word] to us in Hebrew and Greek. Hence if we want to know the Scriptures, to the study of Greek and Hebrew we must go.4

Because we value the breathed-out, inerrant word of God as the final authority for our Christian beliefs and practices, ministerial students must be students of the original languages.

2. Because We Value Faithful and Fresh Teaching

Through my teaching role in the online platform The Daily Dose of Greek, I receive emails from people of many different Christian backgrounds. Some time ago, I received a note from a Methodist minister who lamented that many of his fellow Methodist pastors not only were not preparing sermons from the Greek New Testament but were preaching other people’s sermons as their own (apparently not doing any sermon preparation at all!). This Methodist pastor told me that what keeps his teaching fresh, original, and engaging is the work of preparing weekly messages from the Greek New Testament and Hebrew Old Testament.

In Jeremiah 23:29, God says, “Is not my word like fire . . . and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces?” (NIV). You cannot enter the blinding forge of God’s word and fail to emerge with a fresh, timely, and faithful message.

When people come to your house to eat, do you reheat yesterday’s leftovers to serve them? Or worse, do you go to the neighbor’s house and ask them for their leftovers? Perhaps you sprinkle a bit of cheese on top first to freshen them up? John Piper warns us, “Secondhand food will not sustain and deepen our people’s faith and holiness. . . . What is more important and more deeply practical for the pastoral office than advancing in Greek and Hebrew exegesis by which we mine God’s treasures?”5

In his book Clash of Visions, Robert Yarborough explores the actual handwritten notes of Martin Luther on the text of Romans.6 In doing so, it becomes clear that Luther did not get his ideas on righteousness by listening to a podcast or looking up the word in Gregg Allison’s Historical Theology. His understanding of God’s gift of righteousness in Christ to wicked sinners exploded out of Romans and the Psalms as he studied the biblical texts in the original languages. Luther speaks of this experience himself:

Although the Faith and the Gospel may be proclaimed by preachers without the knowledge of languages, the preaching will be feeble and ineffective. But where the languages are studied, the proclamation will be fresh and powerful, the Scriptures will be searched, and the Faith will be constantly rediscovered through ever new words and deeds.7

3. Because We Have Limited Time

This third point may initially seem counterintuitive. If we have limited time, shouldn’t we just use an English translation and homiletical helps?

Consider a parable: If you must chop a stack of kindling, is it a waste of time to pause and first sharpen your axe? A.T. Robertson observed, “If theological education will increase your power for Christ, is it not your duty to gain that added power? . . . Never say you are losing time by going to school. You are saving time, buying it up for the future and storing it away. Time used in storing power is not lost.”8

As I work through biblical texts in classes, I’m always struck by how many excellent questions students ask that are not addressed by commentaries. Even very good commentators neglect pivotal questions. I tell students, “Do you not realize that the people who write these commentaries are flawed and shortsighted persons like you? Perhaps the commentator did not notice the insight that you are raising, or maybe he had a similar question to what you are asking, but not knowing the answer, he avoided the matter completely in his writing. Only by engaging the inspired text of Scripture for yourself do you consistently have access to the most central questions and the data that answers those questions.” Hence, Scott Hafemann once noted, “One hour in the text [of the original languages] is worth more than ten hours in the secondary literature.”9

Without a doubt, commentaries can be very helpful in wrestling through the meaning and implications of a biblical text. And with limited time, pastors want to be able to use and understand the best commentaries on the passages they are preaching. Nevertheless, the best commentaries often track closely to the Hebrew and Greek text, and without a working knowledge of the biblical languages, the minister is shut out from the most helpful tools.

My grandmother used to tell the grandchildren that when my father was a young boy learning to read, if he didn’t know a word or could not pronounce it, he would just say “steamboat” and keep reading. I pulled off my shelf a very helpful technical commentary on Romans by John Harvey. I wondered what it would be like to try to read it without a knowledge of Greek grammar. Perhaps it would be like replacing every Greek or grammatical term with the word “steamboat.” Consider an excerpt from his comment on Romans 3:21:

The steamboat steamboat could be steamboat, but it is more likely steamboat, modifying steamboat steamboat. The present tense is steamboat; steamboat + steamboat indicates the steamboat of the simple steamboat. The steamboat with steamboat is steamboat; the steamboat with steamboat is steamboat. “Law and Prophets” occurs nowhere else in Paul. See Longenecker for Jewish background on the phrase. “Prophets” is a steamboat for their writings.10

A minister untrained in Greek and Hebrew is at a significant disadvantage for reading and understanding the best resources. Philip Melanchthon once said that without the biblical languages, we will be “silent persons” as theologians.11 We might add that without the biblical languages, we are deaf and blind theologians too, unable to benefit from the insights of the church’s best scholars and teachers.

One semester, after overseeing a final exam in Greek Syntax and Exegesis, I ran into a female student from the class. She said to me (I paraphrase), “You know, Dr. Plummer, I’ll never be a Greek scholar, but after two semesters of Greek, I think I can detect both sound and unsound argumentation in the commentaries.” To which I say, “Well done, good and faithful student.”

Time is limited. A working knowledge of Greek and Hebrew saves time by connecting the minister directly with the text and directly with the best resources.

We now turn to consider three specific challenges we face in the teaching of biblical languages to the next generation of Christian ministers.

Challenge 1: Bad Models

Unfortunately, many students, pastors, and professors have been turned off to the value of Greek and Hebrew by sitting under the preaching and teaching of those who have used the languages poorly. A colleague of mine, Tim Beougher, related to me this saying of Charles Spurgeon: “Our Lord was crucified under a sign written in Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and since then, many congregations have been crucified weekly by their pastors under those same languages.”

Sadly, we could all recount examples of suffering under misguided grammatical reflections — etymological fallacies, illegitimate totality transfers, and so on. We do not have the time to explore such exegetical fallacies in detail,12 but one can understand why many people question the value of the biblical languages if they have not seen them used rightly.

I regularly appeal to my students that explicit references to Greek and Hebrew should be quite rare in their sermons. As a general rule, Greek is like underwear: it should provide support but not be visible.

For example, in 1 John 1:5, we read, ho theos phōs estin kai skotia en autō ouk estin oudemia. “God is light, and in him is no darkness at all.” Now, even a superficial reading of the Greek quickly notes a double negative — with both the words ouk and oudemia employed. We might translate the sentence woodenly, “God is light and none darkness is not him.” It would be a misstep, in my opinion, for the pastor to offer grammatical commentary on double negatives in Koine Greek or to even mention the words ouk and oudemia. Better to let the strength of this assertion infect the preacher’s passion, so that he says something like, “God is light — completely holy — there is not the tiniest particle of darkness or sin in him at all!”

As a preacher, what a wonderful feeling to stand on the solid ground of the text’s actual assertions and structure. Otherwise, you might end up like the pastor whose notes were discovered, and alongside the margin of the manuscript at one place were scribbled the words, “Weak point. Yell loud here.”

Challenge 2: Distractions and Laziness

We may think distractions and laziness are modern problems, but nearly one hundred years ago, A.T. Robertson wrote, “The chief reason why preachers do not get and do not keep up a fair and needful knowledge of the Greek New Testament is nothing less than carelessness, and even laziness in many cases.”13

How many hours per week does the average seminary student or professor or pastor spend on social media, Netflix, sports, or the news? Perhaps we say that we wish we had more time to study, more time to use or revive our knowledge of the biblical languages, but what we actually do shows what we want to do.14

We are weak creatures who find ourselves easily addicted to technology and entertainment. If we are not going to fall into a new dark age of ignorance and passivity, we need Spirit-empowered habits and discipline. Ben Merkle and I have tried to provide practical solutions to these problems in our book Greek for Life: Strategies for Learning, Retaining, and Reviving New Testament Greek (Baker, 2017). And there’s a companion volume for Hebrew: Hebrew for Life (Baker, 2020), with Adam Howell as the lead author.

Challenge 3: The Widespread Erosion of Language Skills

It is difficult to prioritize biblical-language instruction when professors and pastors whom students admire have not learned Greek and Hebrew or have not retained their skills.

If I may speak bluntly, I am sure that among the readership of this essay there are multiple people who regret either not learning the biblical languages or letting their skills seriously atrophy. Perhaps, if you close your eyes for a moment, you can imagine yourself staring out over a valley of dry linguistic bones, and you hear a voice say, “Son of man, can these bones live?”

I’m happy to tell you that they can. I’ve seen so many people successfully revive their knowledge of Greek. It has never been easier. We live in an unparalleled moment of world history — it has never been easier to learn, revive, or progress in your ability to read the Scriptures in the original languages!15

Let me tell you the story of one of my former colleagues, Dr. Bill Cutrer. Bill graduated from Dallas Theological Seminary and had a solid foundation in Greek but had allowed his skills to erode over time. It was around the year 2010, back in the day when Southern Seminary mailed out DVDs to online students. Bill checked out two sets for himself and worked through two Masters-level courses. Then he sat in an on-campus course, the Greek exegesis of the epistle of James.

Bill passed away suddenly on a bike ride in 2013. I like to imagine him instantly transported into the presence of God, and I know there was no hesitation as he joined with the heavenly chorus saying, hagios hagios hagios kyrios ho theos ho pantokratōr ho ēn kai ho ōn kai ho erchomenos: “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!” (Revelation 4:8).

‘At the Classroom Door’

In the early 1900s, one of the most respected Greek grammarians in the world was James Hope Moulton (1863–1917). Moulton’s devotion to the text of Scripture and the God who inspired that Scripture drove him to missionary service in India. After some time of missionary work, as he was journeying home to his native Great Britain in April 1917 (in the midst of WWI), his ship was torpedoed by a German submarine. Moulton survived for several days on a lifeboat but finally passed away and was buried at sea.

I want to share with you a poem Moulton wrote in Bangalore, India, on February 21, 1917, just a few weeks before he died. Titled, “At the Classroom Door,” it’s a prayer in poetic form.

Lord, at Thy word opens yon door, invitingTeacher and taught to feast this hour with Thee;Opens a Book where God in human writingThinks His deep thoughts, and dead tongues live for me.

Too dread the task, too great the duty calling,Too heavy far the weight is laid on me!Oh, if mine own thought should on Thy words fallingMar the great message, and men hear not Thee!

Give me Thy voice to speak, Thine ear to listen,Give me Thy mind to grasp Thy mystery;So shall my heart throb, and my glad eyes glisten,Rapt with the wonders Thou dost show to me.16

On February 23, 1856, Charles H. Spurgeon found a spare moment to write to a friend about the remarkable revival that was happening under his preaching. He had been in London for less than two years, and in that short time, his popularity had grown such that no building could hold the thousands coming to hear him. England had not seen the likes of Spurgeon since the days of Wesley and Whitefield. “Everywhere, at all hours, places are crammed to the doors. The devil is wide awake, but so, too, is the Master.”

With this growing popularity, the invitations to preach were pouring in. Just that week, Spurgeon had already preached eleven times. His letter concluded with a list of the fourteen preaching engagements he had the following week, preaching two to three times a day (Autobiography, 2:101–2). He would maintain this preaching pace for the first fifteen years of his ministry, and even as poor health began to limit his activity, Spurgeon still regularly preached four times a week in his own church, and usually two or three more times in other venues.

How did he do it? Amid pastoring a growing church, preparing sermons for publication, mentoring pastoral students, caring for his family, and more, how did he find time to prepare so many sermons? For Spurgeon, an important key was learning to deliver his sermons extemporaneously.

What Is Extemporaneous Preaching?

Spurgeon once delivered a lecture to his students on extemporaneous speaking, summarizing his approach on sermon delivery (“The Faculty of Impromptu Speech” in Lectures to My Students). He divided extemporaneous speaking into two categories: “speech impromptu” and extemporaneous sermon delivery.

‘Speech Impromptu’

The first is what he called “speech impromptu,” that is, preaching “without special preparation, without notes or immediate forethought” (227). His general rule was that no ministry should be made up primarily of this kind of preaching. Quakers or Plymouth Brethren preachers had the distinctive practice of not preparing and simply waiting for the Spirit to provide them a sermon. But Spurgeon believed such sermons tended to be repetitive and often void of solid teaching. “Churches are not to be held together except by an instructive ministry; a mere filling up of time with oratory will not suffice” (227).

“The ability to speak clearly and compellingly without preparation can be a tremendous gift to the church.”

At the same time, many unforeseen opportunities to speak arise in ministry: A church member speaks divisively at a meeting, and you, as the pastor, need to respond. A public meeting goes off course with unhelpful comments, and you are burdened to “counteract the mischief, and lead the assembly into a more profitable line of thought” (234). At a funeral, you are unexpectedly invited to say a few words. In all these events, the ability to speak clearly and compellingly without preparation can be a tremendous gift to the church.

Extemporaneous Sermon Delivery

The second kind of speaking is extemporaneous sermon delivery, where “the words are extemporal, as I think they always should be, but the thoughts are the result of research and study” (230). This was Spurgeon’s preferred preaching method. Spurgeon’s prodigious study habits are evident in his library, much of which resides today at the Spurgeon Library in Kansas City, Missouri. These six thousand volumes (half of his original library) contain works of theology, biblical studies, preaching, church history, poetry, fiction, classics, and much more. They give ample evidence of his wide and thoughtful study. Of course, his most important study was in the Bible, and his many Bibles reveal not only discipline but also prayerful meditation.

Beyond his reading, Spurgeon was always on the lookout for illustrations, anecdotes, helpful sayings, and anything else that could be used in a sermon. From his observations on the train to the latest headline in the newspaper to a bird on his windowsill, everything around him provided fresh insight into the truths of God’s word, and he attentively stored them for future use.

Of course, Spurgeon also dedicated time to prepare sermons. Throughout the week, he was constantly jotting down potential sermon outlines (he called them “skeletons”) out of the overflow of his Bible study and meditation. He spent the most time on his Sunday-morning sermons, devoting his Saturday evenings to preparation. A few hours on Sunday afternoons were spent preparing his Sunday-evening sermons, which tended to complement the morning sermon. For Monday and Thursday-night meetings, Spurgeon usually preached a more devotional sermon based on the things he found himself meditating on that week.

Fruit of Vast Labor

Both forms of extemporaneous speaking require a significant amount of hard work and training. Spurgeon warned students who saw this ability as an excuse for laziness:

Did we hear a single heart whisper, “I wish I had it, for then I should have no need to study so arduously”? Ah! Then you must not have it, you are unworthy of the boon, and unfit to be trusted with it. If you seek this gift as a pillow for an idle head, you will be much mistaken; for the possession of this noble power will involve you in a vast amount of labor in order to increase and even to retain it. (233)

“Step into the pulpit with less reliance on your notes and more prayerful dependence on the Spirit.”

Far from enabling laziness, cultivating this skill will take more work than simply writing a manuscript. So why go through that work? Spurgeon believed extemporaneous delivery enables preachers to connect with their hearers far more than a read or memorized sermon ever could. Preaching extemporaneously enables the preacher to engage the hearer not only with his mouth but with his eyes and heart. This is why people in many other professions work at this skill. From politicians to freestyle rappers, they can develop an impressive ability to speak extemporaneously with eloquence and power.

So, why not the Christian preacher?

Growing in Extemporaneous Speaking

To be sure, extemporaneous speaking, and especially impromptu speaking, is a skill that not every preacher will be able to develop. But Spurgeon encouraged all his students to try. As an exercise, he would sometimes assign his students a topic for a speech on the spot. On one occasion, he called a student to speak on Zacchaeus. The student stood up and said, “Zacchaeus was little of stature; so am I. Zacchaeus was up a tree; so am I. Zacchaeus came down; so will I.” He sat back down to the applause of all his classmates and teacher (A Pictorial Biography of C.H. Spurgeon, 88). This student showed some potential!

What advice would Spurgeon have for developing this ability?

1. Study and prepare.

“You will not be able to extemporize good thinking unless you have been in the habit of thinking and feeding your mind with abundant and nourishing food” (236). Unless you have fed your mind with abundant study and have worked hard to meditate on what you have read, you will have little worthwhile to say. In one sense, extemporaneous preaching requires more work, not less, than written manuscript sermons, because rather than preparing a manuscript, the preacher must prepare himself.

For Spurgeon, one evidence of his study is that his sermons always had an outline, often with points and subpoints. Rather than just rambling through a text, he always organized his thoughts and prepared his sermon in a cohesive and clear structure.

2. Speak out of your own spiritual experience.

“Accustom yourselves to heavenly meditations, search the Scriptures, delight yourselves in the law of the Lord, and you need not fear to speak of things which you have tasted and handled of the good word of God” (236). Don’t feel the need to speak beyond what you have personally come to know. But insofar as the Spirit has revealed wonderful things in his word to you, speak out of your own experience and meditation. Share what has encouraged you and how you have applied these truths in your own life.

3. Select familiar topics.

This was Spurgeon’s practice, especially when it came to his Monday-night devotionals. “When standing up on such occasions, one’s mind makes a review, and inquires, ‘What subject has already taken up my thought during the day? What have I met with in my reading during the past week? What is most laid upon my heart at this hour? What is suggested by the hymns or the prayers?’” (238). Rather than working from a blank slate, speak on topics that have already occupied your thoughts or are suggested by your context.

4. Learn how language works.

Extemporaneous speakers don’t have the benefit of editing their sermons. So you must master the language from the beginning. “Like a workman he becomes familiar with his tools, and handles them as every day companions” (241). Spurgeon found it especially helpful to translate Latin classics, forcing him to understand how the English language works and how to use it effectively. Whatever you do, seek to master grammar, composition, and all those skills from your grade-school language class.

5. Practice in private.

Rather than waiting until you’re unexpectedly called upon, begin practicing in private, even if it means preaching to your chairs and bookshelves. Better yet, gather other aspiring preachers and practice with one another. Spurgeon would often speak out loud in his private study. “I find it very helpful to be able, in private devotion, to pray with my voice; reading aloud is more beneficial to me than the silent process; and when I am mentally working out a sermon, it is a relief to me to speak to myself as the thoughts flow forth” (242).

6. Cultivate dependence on the Spirit.

Public speaking can be terrifying, and even more so without a manuscript. How does the preacher not give way to fear and anxiety? Only by depending on God. “Everything depends upon your being cool and unflurried. Forebodings of failure, and fear of man, will ruin you. Go on, trusting in God, and all will be well” (243). This doesn’t mean we can count on the Spirit’s help if we’ve been lazy. But if we have studied, prepared, and prayed, then we can trust the Spirit to be with us as we seek to serve God’s people.

From Page to People

The aim here is not merely to develop a skill. Our task as preachers is more than simply to become skilled rhetoricians. Rather, the aim is to equip ourselves to best edify the church. So, whether you preach from a simple outline, a full manuscript, or somewhere in between, all of us can improve our delivery and our ability to connect better with our hearers. This is where Spurgeon’s challenge applies. Step into the pulpit with less reliance on your notes and more prayerful dependence on the Spirit. Work on speaking less from your manuscript and more from your heart. And keep your eyes less on the page and more on your people.

The best way to grow is by doing. Your first attempts may seem feeble, but who knows? God can use even your imperfect efforts to accomplish his powerful work. So, keep working at it. Look for opportunities to speak of Christ. Find other preachers to help you. And as Spurgeon told his students, “You must continually practice extemporizing, and if to gain suitable opportunities you should frequently speak the word in cottages, in the school-rooms of our hamlets, or to two or three by the wayside, your profiting shall be known unto all men” (247).