Helping ordinary people learn to study the Bible
Apparently some folks at All Nations Church in Ilford, London struggle to concentrate when reading their Bibles. I suspect they are not alone. The church offers some wonderful counsel here, including:
Perhaps some of these suggestions may benefit you as well.
A firm grasp on Jesus, the Lamb of God, will take your application skills to the next level.
The Bible paints a glorious portrait of Jesus as one who “in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb 4:15). Jesus is the one who “knew no sin” (2 Cor 5:21). “He committed no sin” (1 Peter 2:22), and “in him there is no sin” (1 John 3:5).
When Jesus began his ministry, John the Baptist called him “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). As the Lamb of God, Jesus fulfilled the role of the Old Testament sacrifices, especially the Passover lamb, which involved offering a lamb “without blemish, a male a year old” (ex 12:5) and whose blood would be displayed so judgment could pass the people by.
Those with the courage to attribute all hope of salvation to the enthroned Father and to the Lamb (Rev 7:10) will find their clothes washed white in the Lamb’s blood (Rev 7:14). God “made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor 5:21).
The New Testament regularly portrays Jesus as trading places with sinners to grant them new life. The leper who could not enter towns gets to speak to the priest, while Jesus is no longer able to enter the town (Mark 1:40-45). The Rich One becomes poor so the poor might by his poverty become rich (2 Cor 8:9). The Wise One became as a fool so fools might become wise in him (1 Cor 1:20-31). The Righteous One became sin so sinner could become righteous in him (2 Cor 5:21). Jesus died so others could have life (Matt 27:50-54).
So how does this doctrine help us to improve at applying the Bible?
In nearly any text, you can ask “substitution” questions with respect to the author’s main point:
I am intentionally sidestepping matters of creation, gifts, strengths, law, and hope for the future when I ask these questions. That’s not because such matters are unimportant, but only because the focus of this post is on the substitution of Jesus Christ for sinners.
Sometimes, robust reflection on Christ’s substitution for sinners will give us ample material to speak into the issues of our age: grace, patience, shame, identity, self-esteem, fear, anxiety, discouragement, depression—to name just a few.
Deepen your grasp of Jesus Christ’s substitution for sinners, and you’ll take your application skills to the next level.
Kristen Wetherell makes a fabulous point: You can study the Bible in 5, 15, or 30 minutes (or more). It doesn’t matter how much time you have. There is no perfect way to conduct a quiet time. Just start where you are, take what you have, and do what you can.
We need to intentionally provide our souls with a meal that nourishes us with truth. We often call this meal “quiet time”—and feel like we’ve failed if it doesn’t look a certain way.
But God isn’t prescriptive about this in his Word (Deut. 6:5–6; Phil. 2:16; John 15:4). He wants us to prioritize meeting with him through Scripture, however it looks. He wants us to hunger for him, the Bread of Life, not a formula. He wants us to pursue our perfect Savior Jesus, not a perfect quiet time, as if there were such a thing (John 5:39–40).
A firm grasp on the most common misuses of God’s law will take your application skills to the next level.
People tend to misuse the law of God in one of two ways. I’ve written about these misuses before as opponents of heart application. Now I’d like to identify the benefits of recognizing these common misuses when asking questions for application.
The first misuse is legalism, which flows from a belief that law keeping makes us right with God. And from a desire to be or remain right with God, we add rules that God has not given to our lives. So though the Lord Jesus commands us to abide in his word (John 8:31), he does not command the practice of a daily quiet time. And the New Testament commands believers to pray (1 Thess 5:17), but it does not command attendance at Wednesday night prayer meetings. Prayer meetings and quiet times are very good and helpful things to do, in the right circumstances. But we must be careful not to elevate them to the status of divine commands.
The second misuse is license, which is a belief that grace eliminates the righteous requirement of the law in the life of a believer. In other words, because you are saved by grace alone, you can live however you want to live. This licentious approach may take the form of a refusal to acknowledge the moral authority of biblical imperatives or an aversion to any commands at all. It may sound mature and appropriate to conclude every study with “We can’t do what this text commands, but only Jesus can do it. And he did it for us.” There is truth there, but if we’re not careful, emphasizing that truth over others may end up subverting a biblical author’s intention (if he’s clearly expecting his people to do what he commands, with the help of the Holy Spirit!).
These two misuses are not mutually exclusive, and a person or community may easily bounce back and forth between the two. The New Testament epistles spend tons of time dealing with either or both of these issues, so it should not surprise us to discover how hard it is to grasp how God’s law and God’s grace work together in harmony.
So how does this doctrine help us to improve at applying the Bible?
In nearly any text, you can ask “misuse of the law” questions with respect to the author’s main point:
I am intentionally sidestepping matters of creation, gifts, strengths, grace, and redemption when I ask these questions. That’s not because such matters are unimportant, but only because the focus of this post is on the common misuses of God’s law away from the moral requirements of God for his people.
Sometimes, robust reflection on the potential misuse of God’s law will give us ample material to speak into the issues of our age: grace, patience, shame, identity, ethics, accountability, power—to name just a few.
Deepen your grasp of the potential misuse of the law, and you’ll take your application skills to the next level.
As Megan Taylor walks through the argument of the book of Habakkuk, she shows the development of faith in Habakkuk the “doomer.” Here is a taste:
Habakkuk’s dilemma transcends his historical context as we find ourselves struggling against the same frustrations with the state of the world. Like Habakkuk, we too often look through a peephole when we should look into the window of God’s sovereign plan through history. Faith is not believing in a plan we deem best for ourselves, nor is it placing our hope in what we think God should do. Instead, it is the profound conviction that God, as the Master Architect of His grand design, directs all events towards the ultimate good of those who place their trust in Him.
A firm grasp on the goal of God’s law will take your application skills to the next level.
When lamenting his countrymen’s replacement of God’s righteousness with their own, the apostle Paul makes a remarkable statement:
For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes.
Romans 10:4
This phrase—”the end of the law”—does not mean that Jesus has brought the law to end. No, the word “end” here has the connotation of goal or purpose. Paul’s point is not the law’s mortality but its purpose.
According to the argument of Romans 9:30-10:4, Jews have been seeking righteousness before God but have failed to find it. But those who have found it are Gentiles who weren’t seeking it. How can that be? Because by and large, the Jews have sought their own righteousness through works of the law. And many Gentiles found God’s righteousness by trusting in Jesus Christ.
The reason this state has befallen the Jewish people of Paul’s day is because they have failed to understand the law’s purpose. The law of Moses was never given to make people righteous before God but to lead them to faith in Christ. Miss that purpose and you’re bound to misuse the law. In Romans 10:5-13, Paul demonstrates this purpose from the law itself.
So the law is not a bad thing, as long as we recognize its purpose. It cannot make sinners acceptable to God. It cannot vindicate the people of God against the enemies of God. It is a good gift from God to help people come to trust in Jesus. (And, as I showed last week, to show us how life works best.)
So how does this doctrine help us to improve at applying the Bible?
In nearly any text, you can ask “end of the law” questions with respect to the author’s main point:
I am intentionally sidestepping matters of creation, gifts, strengths, grace, and redemption when I ask these questions. That’s not because such matters are unimportant, but only because the focus of this post is on the purpose of God’s law to show us Christ and his righteousness.
Sometimes, robust reflection on the end or purpose of God’s law will give us ample material to speak into the issues of our age: politics, leadership, authority, liberty, influence—to name just a few.
Deepen your grasp of the proper purpose of the law, and you’ll take your application skills to the next level.
Cindy Matson has some great advice “To the New and Nervous Scripture Reader.” She wants you to:
Here is a taste of her great advice:
Hi Friend,
I heard you set a goal for the new year to read Scripture more faithfully. That’s great! But I was also told that now you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed. You want to be in the Word, but you’re just not quite sure how that’s going to work. I get it; and if I could, I’d like to offer you a couple of pieces of advice. I’m sure I won’t answer every question, and I’m not even going to try to tell you what or how much to read. Instead, let me try to anticipate some problems, assuage some worries, and add a word of caution.
A firm grasp on the proper use of God’s law will take your application skills to the next level.
In some Christian circles, the word “law”—or more specifically, the phrases “God’s law” or “law of Moses”—is a dirty word. Something to be avoided. We certainly don’t want to be guilty of enslaving people under law do we (Rom 6:14, Gal 3:23)?
However, if the law is nothing but a slave master to be thrown off in Christ, our friends the Gideons should stop including Psalms and Proverbs in their pocket New Testaments:
Oh how I love your law! It is my meditation al the day.
Psalm 119:97
The one who keeps the law is a son with understanding, but a companion of gluttons shames his father
Proverbs 28:7
The problem, you see, was never with God’s law but with the way people try to use it. If we use to attain righteousness before God, then Christ died for no purpose (Gal 2:21). Those who use the law to become righteous will, in the end, lose not only righteousness but also the very benefits of the law (Rom 9:30-32).
So what is the proper use of the law? The Bible gives a few of them, but I’ll highlight just two of them relevant to the skill of Bible application.
First, the law of God provides knowledge of sin (Rom 3:20, 7:7-12). The law of God reveals God’s standards of right and wrong, true and false, moral and immoral. If you get rid of God’s law, you must invent some other standard by which to define good and evil, right and wrong. And a cursory glance at contemporary western culture ought to be enough to show what a failure such an experiment has been. We need the law to define sin and righteousness for us so we might become aware of how far we fall short. In this way, the law is like a mentor to lead us to find grace and mercy in Christ Jesus (Gal 3:23-4:7).
Second, the law of God shows us how life works best (Rom 13:9-10, Eph 6:2-3, James 2:8-13). While the law of God cannot make a sinner righteous, it can make any society a far more pleasant place to live. God made the world to work, such that keeping his law would result in great blessings and breaking his law would result in miserable curses. God is pleased when his people honor his law in submission to his appointed king, Jesus, the Son of David. The New Testament regularly roots its ethical instruction in the revealed law of God. Paul goes as far as to call it a “debt” or “obligation” to obey God through the empowering of God’s adopting Spirit (Rom 8:12).
So how does this doctrine help us to improve at applying the Bible?
In nearly any text, you can ask “use of the law” questions with respect to the author’s main point:
I am intentionally sidestepping matters of creation, gifts, strengths, grace, and redemption when I ask these questions. That’s not because such matters are unimportant, but only because the focus of this post is on the proper use of God’s law.
Sometimes, robust reflection on the proper use of God’s law will give us ample material to speak into the issues of our age: ethical dilemmas, attention to the environment, abortion, marriage, transgenderism, care for the poor, euthanasia, sexuality and sexual identity, greed, taxation—to name just a few.
Deepen your grasp of the proper use of the law, and you’ll take your application skills to the next level.
Michael Kelley describes three aspects to wisdom’s nature found in the opening verses of Proverbs:
As he explains: “Wisdom is about reality. It’s about real-life decision-making in real-life situations. And that is, indeed, a powerful thing.”
A firm grasp on the essence of sin will take your application skills to the next level.
The essence of sin lies in the fact that humans tried (and therefore still try) to replace God. We see this when the serpent first tempts the woman in Genesis 3:5.
God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.
The temptation was to be like God. And how would they become like God? They would “know good and evil.”
That phrase, “know good and evil,” cannot mean a simple grasp of the concepts of good and evil. Adam and his wife already understood both concepts, when God told them what to do and not do (Gen 1:28-29, 2:16-17). Clearly, it was good to obey God and evil to disobey him. The first humans were not cognitively deficient.
In the Hebrew Bible, to “know good and evil” is a mark not of intellectual capacity but of maturity. With respect to the promise of Immanuel, God says the following to Isaiah:
He shall eat curds and honey when he knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good. For before the boy knows how to refuse the evil and choose the good, the land whose two kings you dread will be deserted.
Isaiah 7:15-16
The point for Isaiah (and King Ahaz) was that a child would soon be born. And by the time that child was mature enough to make wise moral decisions, the attacks on Jerusalem will have come to an end.
So what does this have to do with the temptation to sin in Genesis 3? The temptation was attractive because it came with a promise of maturity, but in the wrong way. That made it a promise of escape from submission to God’s authority. An offer to the woman and the man to become their own authorities and make their own decisions about what is (or should be) good and evil.
This is where sin got its beginning in human history, and it is where sin drops anchor in the human heart.
Each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.
James 1:14-15
God confirms that the “knowledge of good and evil” has to do with maturity (wrongly acquired in this case), when he says that “the man has become like one of us in knowing good and evil” (Gen 3:22). The humans have seized a god-like position of deciding between good and evil instead of trusting God and waiting for him to mature them and raise them up in his way. And God—in his mercy—refuses to allow them to live forever in this state (Gen 3:22-23). He sends them away from the tree of life so that they can die, as he promised they would. But that gives him the opportunity to raise them from the dead and make their condition far more glorious than it even was to begin with.
The essence of sin, therefore, is the desire to get what you want. To make your own decisions. To throw off the yoke of righteousness God requires and fashion your own. I believe this is why Jonathan Edwards allegedly (I haven’t been able to trace the source) said that “The smallest sin is an act of cosmic treason against a holy God.” And this is why God’s wrathful judgment against human sin looks like God giving people the very death they want (“God gave them up” – Rom 2:24, 26, 28). Does someone most want a world without God in it? In the end, they will get their wish (2 Thess 1:9).
So how does this doctrine help us to improve at applying the Bible?
In nearly any text, you can ask “cosmic treason” questions with respect to the author’s main point:
I am intentionally sidestepping matters of creation, gifts, strengths, grace, and redemption when I ask these questions. That’s not because such matters are unimportant, but only because the focus of this post is on the implications of sin’s treasonous nature.
Sometimes, robust reflection on our outright rebellion against God’s authority will give us ample material to speak into the issues of our age: postmodernism, relativism, materialism, greed, situational ethics, individualism, stewardship—to name just a few.
Deepen your grasp of the essence of sin, and you’ll take your application skills to the next level.
