Helping ordinary people learn to study the Bible
Scott Hubbard wants you to know four things about the Bible’s portrait of a sluggard:
Hubbard does a great job correlating the teaching of Proverbs on the character of the sluggard. In the process, Hubbard models terrific head and heart application.
If my experience is symptomatic of a broader reality, and heart application is the most difficult of the three spheres, then it behooves us to understand potential hindrances. And the New Testament leads us to expect two primary opponents.
The first opponent of heart application is legalism. Legalism is when we add to God’s word rules and behaviors he does not require of us. Even when such things used to be required under the old covenant, we are still “adding” them to God’s current ethical expectations (Gal 6:15-16).
Legalism was an issue when the Galatian trouble-makers taught that converts had to be circumcised and become Jews before they could become Christians. Legalism was an issue when Pharisees erected voluminous regulations for Sabbath-keeping (Luke 13:10-17) and ritual purity (Mark 7:1-5). Legalism was an issue when the Colossians and Ephesians were attracted to ascetic practices that removed them from tangible pleasures and blessings (Col 2:20-23, 1 Tim 4:1-5).
How does legalism oppose application to the heart? By producing the sort of person who does the right things without becoming the right person who believes the gospel. Legalism does not require any change on the inside, such that you become the kind of person the Lord wants you to be.
…this people draw near with their mouth and honor me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me, and their fear of me is a commandment taught by men
Isaiah 29:13
The second opponent of heart application is license. License is when we subtract from God’s word and minimize or ignore kingdom ethics. Even when the motivating factor is God’s grace to needy sinners, we are still subtracting from God’s word if we suppose grace does anything but train us to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age (Titus 2:11-14).
License was an issue when Philippian citizens worshiped their belly and set their minds on earthly things (Phil 3:18-21). License was an issue when Ephesian believers were tempted to live like unbelievers, allowing hardness of heart to darken their understanding and live for what they could see, hear, feel, and touch (Eph 4:17-20). License was an issue when teachers would arise who employed the doctrine of grace to promote “anything goes” and thereby lead people away from loyalty to Christ (Jude 3-4).
How does license oppose application to the heart? By producing the sort of person who may even believe the right things but without becoming the right person who does the right things. License does not require any change on the inside, such that you become the kind of person the Lord wants you to be.
For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God.
1 Thessalonians 4:3-5
Both opponents of heart application—legalism and license—prevent people from becoming the right people on the inside. Both are concerned with outward behavior. Both are harsh masters, demanding far too much of their victims.
The best tactics for resisting both opponents is to properly grasp the main points of Scripture, and then to allow those truths to shape you from the inside out. To make you into not only a person who does the right things but also a person who loves and desires the right things.
See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no “root of bitterness” springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled; 16 that no one is sexually immoral or unholy like Esau, who sold his birthright for a single meal.
Hebrews 12:15-16
Of the three spheres of application, I believe the most difficult one for most people is the heart sphere. For that reason, my series of posts on leading small groups has one specifically on how to encourage heart-oriented application. Most people tend to find head and hands application more natural.
Why do you think that is?
Unless they have an extraordinary aversion to theological debate, most people have no resistance to head application. What we must believe about God, the world, ourselves, sin, and redemption—these things are glorious truths, and clarity on such things from the Scripture is precious.
And as I wrote last week, we tend to have such an affinity for “doing” (hands application) that the concept of application itself is often reduced to little more than what we do in light of the Bible’s teachings. The challenge is to help folks understand that application involves more than doing.
But when it comes to heart application—what we love, value and cherish; what sort of people we are to become—those who don’t balk at such personal intrusion can sometimes feel like ignorant babes.
How do we do it? How do we not simply guilt people into obedience, but motivate and inspire them to want to obey God? How do we become the sort of people who turn away from sin not only because it’s our duty but also because we are personally repulsed by the idea of committing it? How do we find in Christ a greater and more secure treasure than anything we can see, smell, taste, or touch here and now?
The thing is: Heart application requires a grasp of both human nature and the Lord’s process for rebooting that nature in Christ. That takes hard work. If you want your Bible application to be quick and dirty, the sphere of the heart will nearly always become a neglected stepchild.
Hebrews 4:14-16 provides an interesting study in the spheres of application:
Does the confession of Christ as great high priest lead you not only to approach the Lord, but to do so as a person with full confidence in his mercy and grace? Is your first instinct to turn to the Lord in prayer when you need help?
Is heart application difficult for you? If so, why do you think that is?
Because Karrie Hahn believes the Bible is precious, she wants you to read it for the right reasons. She gives three quite compelling ones.
Sometimes application means simply letting the Bible shape us in these areas. For example:
An encounter with the God of the universe can’t help but produce awe and wonder in those to whom He reveals Himself. He is glorious and majestic, unlike anyone or anything else:
The LORD reigns; he is robed in majesty . . . Mightier than the thunders of many waters, mightier than the waves of the sea, the LORD on high is mighty!” (Ps. 93:1, 4)
His greatness is unsearchable, and He is glorious, splendid, and majestic (see Ps. 145:3, 5). Holy Scripture is how we come to better know the God who has called us to Himself.
How do you know when you’ve successfully applied the Bible to your life?
Of course, obedience is a life-long practice, which we’ll never be finished with. But when you are studying a passage of Scripture, how do you know when you have arrived at appropriate application? At what point can you say you’ve done enough study? You now know what you must go and do, and you’re ready to go and do it.
I think it depends on your definition of “doing.”
In my experience leading Bible studies, one of the most common conceptions I find people have is that application = doing. As in, until you have something concrete and particular to add to your schedule or task list, you haven’t yet done application. And if a teacher doesn’t give you specific actions for your schedule or task list, that teacher hasn’t yet helped you with application.
So I find it crucial to remind people that application involves more than doing. Yes, the Bible often calls us to do something. But sometimes it calls us believe something. And sometimes it calls us to love or value something. All such calls could be properly labeled “application.”
To put it another way, application is not only about the hands but also about the head and the heart. All three spheres can be considered legitimate ways to apply the Scripture. One of them (hands) involves doing. But that’s not the only thing application involves.
We cannot improve on the sorts of applications the apostles themselves sought from their readers.
Of course, the apostles sometimes proposed hands (doing) applications:
Outdo one another in showing honor … contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.
Romans 12:10-13
Yet sometimes, the primary application they’re after is head application:
Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you? If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy him. For God’s temple is holy, and you are that temple. Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you thinks that he is wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise.
1 Cor 3:16-18
And yet other times, they go for the heart. They want Christians to become people of character who receive and rest upon Jesus Christ and nothing else.
Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.
John 20:30-31
Of course, doing is one of the spheres, so I would never encourage you not to get applications on your schedule or task list.
But if a particular text lends itself more to believing or loving, have at it. Don’t feel guilty. Don’t conclude that you haven’t yet “applied” the Scripture.
We give thanks to God always for all of you, constantly mentioning you in our prayers, remembering before our God and Father your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. For we know, brothers loved by God, that he has chosen you, because our gospel came to you not only in word, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction.
1 Thess 1:2-5
The climax of interpretation is to determine the author’s main point. And while there’s rarely a single, “correct” way to word the main point, some ways of phrasing it are more helpful than others.
As the climax of interpretation, the main point is the final rest stop before entering the territory of application. Your statement of the author’s main point represents the sum total of all your work to that point. The main point answers your most important why questions. And your main point ought to be 40-weeks-and-two-days pregnant with the answers to your most important so what questions.
As you craft your statement of the author’s main point, avoid the temptation to include everything the passage says. Your goal is not to include every thing but only to capture the main thing.
And the way you capture that main thing matters. Think of observation and interpretation as a high plateau covered in a dense forest. You’ve examined the trees, but you’ve grasped the way they fit together into that forest.
But at the edge of that forest is a cliff, dropping off into a vast canyon. That canyon represents application. And the closer your main point gets to that cliff’s edge, the better it is—both for yourself and those you lead in Bible study. Aim to get close enough to the cliff’s edge that you won’t need to push yourself or others too hard to get into application. All you have to do is blow, and you’ll all fall right into it.
In other words, your main point is the Roadrunner. Your goal in crafting a main point is to get that Wile E. Coyote (be he yourself or those you lead) out of the forest and up to the edge of the cliff. Even better, get him six feet out beyond the cliff’s edge. Once he realizes he’s there, all he needs to do is fall.
Your main point should be a clear, concise, and compelling statement of the truth of the text. You don’t want it to be obscure, such that nobody knows what it means. You don’t want it to be lengthy, such that nobody can hold it in mind. You don’t want it to be dry and dusty, such that nobody knows what to do with it.
You’re not inventing the idea; you’re only phrasing it in a compelling way. So your main point should clearly capture the truth of the text while also clearly implying a variety of applications.
For example, I could state the main point of Eph 4:1-16 as follows: “As a church, we must walk in the sort of unity worthy of God’s calling on us in Christ.” That would be true and accurate, scoring bonus points for using the very language of the passage. However, I can take the same truth and rephrase it in a more compelling way, getting myself and my people right up over the canyon of application: “Diversity shouldn’t divide the church.” Once I put it that way, I raise all kinds of questions about our church and what sorts of things we permit to divide us.
Let’s take Proverbs 30:1-6 for another example. I could state the main point as: “God’s Son and his Word communicate his truth and wisdom to us, providing refuge to the weary.” Or I could state it as: “You can find heaven’s wisdom on earth.” If we had more time to discuss it, I’m sure we could improve it even further.
One more example, from a narrative: 1 Kings 21. We could phrase the main point as: “God’s people were expelled like Amorites because their kings abused power and refused justice like Amorites.” That statement captures what this narrative gets at, especially regarding how it would have landed with the original audience. But perhaps another way to phrase the same truth for a modern audience (even if that “audience” is only myself) is: “Sellouts will be found out.”
In each case, do you see how my rephrasing of the main point hangs us out right over the canyon of application? I won’t need to push myself or others into application. All I have to do is show how deep the canyon goes. And we’ll fall right in.
Each rephrased main point raises immediate questions about our current situation, need, or status. It begs us to ask more implicational questions. And it drives us toward proper belief, values, or action in service to Christ.
Next time you work on a passage, give yourself some time to think long and hard about the main point. Not only what it is but how to phrase it. See how far you can get yourself off the cliff of interpretation and out over the canyon of application. Of course, without actually turning the main point into any particular application. This takes quite a bit of thought, but the effort is extraordinarily rewarding. Your future self—entrusted with the business of applying this text to life—will thank you.
For a few months I’ve been writing on the importance and the process of determining the author’s main point in Bible study. And one reason we should care about the main point is because of how dramatically it affects the way we apply the Bible.
To explain this further, I recently wrote for the Logos blog a piece called “Legalism, License, and the Tightrope of Bible Application.” Here is a taste:
So you want to apply the Bible to your life, do you?
That’s wonderful news, since the Lord Jesus (Matt 7:21–27) and his apostles (Jas 1:22–25) want you and me not only to hear the word but also to do it. But what should that “doing” look like?
Sometimes people warn of the danger of creating behavioral rules to either attain or maintain God’s favor. And at other times, people warn of cheap grace, where the gospel’s freedom is misunderstood to mean repentance is unnecessary. The tug-of-war between these perspectives may cause Bible application to feel like crossing a lava pit on a tightrope.
Both sets of warnings are on to something; the dangers on either side are real. And both sets of dangers may have the same solution: holding fast to the main points of biblical texts.
In the piece, I show how holding fast to the author’s main points provide a safeguard against drifting into either legalism or license in our application of Scripture. I’d love to know if you find my case persuasive.
In recent posts, I’ve been trying to help you get the most out of the interpretation phase of your study. We’ve considered different uses for different types of questions, the power of implicational questions, and the best place to find answers to your questions.
Another way to think of the value of implicational questions is that they help us to grasp how the original audience would have applied the text. When we ask our questions with the original audience in mind, we’re more likely to land on the true message and proper application of the text.
Our understanding of a text will be strongest—and therefore our application will hit home with greatest force—when it is very closely connected to the author’s primary intent for his audience.
So we do as much as we can to put ourselves in the shoes of those who first read this text, and to consider what this passage calls them to believe, love, or do.
To do this, we must pull together all of our work in observation and interpretation so far. All our questions and answers, along with our work on the context: historical, biblical, and literary.
In Proverbs 31:1-9, King Lemuel’s mother offers him wise counsel for kings and rulers. She tells him what not to do with his strength (Prov 31:3) and mouth (Prov 31:4-5), and she promotes what he ought to do with his mouth (Prov 31:8-9a) and strength (Prov 31:9b). There is a time an place for forgetting (Prov 31:6-7), but during one’s exercise of kingly rule is not it (Prov 31:4-5).
Thus far my observation, with some progress on definitive, rational, and implicational questions. But how would the original audience have applied this poem?
It may be tempting to go directly to contemporary application, considering how we make use of our own strength and mouth, and whether we employ them to wise, selfless, and just ends. Such time would certainly be profitable, but perhaps a less direct route will lay an even stronger foundation for application.
The book of Proverbs is something of a manual for training up nobles and rulers in Israel. When Solomon speaks to “my son” in chapters 1-9, he is speaking not only to his direct heir but also to all the youth among the nobility (see where Prov 4:1, 24:21, etc., where the “sons” are either plural or are not in direct line to the throne). So if we apply every passage directly to the Christian “everyman,” we lose something of the book’s focus on training leaders.
The people of Israel hearing Proverbs 31:1-9 may not have immediately considered how they used their own strength or mouth. After all, many of them would be in the category of those for whom it would be appropriate to forget their poverty (Prov 31:6-7)!
Instead, upon hearing this text, they would be far more inclined to consider what sort of king they need to rule them in wisdom. They might expect their king to take this poem more personally than they themselves do. And if he wouldn’t, they would keep waiting and watching for another such king to arise.
Such consideration of the original audience helps us to see Christ more clearly in the text. And since we have been united to him through faith, it remains appropriate to apply the text to us today. But having gone through Christ to get to application, we’ve ratcheted up the urgency and persuasiveness.
In order to determine a text’s implications on the original audience, we must be able to identify who that original audience is. Such identification is quite tricky for narratives, for at least two reasons.
The first reason is that we often don’t know who the precise audience was. It would be difficult to nail down exactly which generation was the first audience for Joshua, Judges, Ruth, 1-2 Samuel, or Esther. We can’t be too precise about the audience for some of the gospels, as we’re not told. In all such cases, we must remain fuzzy, though it still helps to know “these people needed a king,” or “these people must have been Jewish Christians.”
The second reason the identification is tricky is that we often confuse the text’s audience with the text’s characters. So when studying the sermon on the Mount, we might find ourselves putting ourselves in the shoes of those who were present, listening to the sermon as Jesus preached it. But instead, we ought to put ourselves in the shoes of those reading the book that Matthew wrote.
So the implications of the text on the characters within the text might help you to understand the text. But what’s even more significant is to grasp the implications of the text on those who first read the text.
When you can clearly answer the question of “how would they have applied it?” you’ll be far more likely to get a strong answer to “how should we apply it?”
Here is a thoughtful piece by Ty Kieser called “Potential Dangers of ‘Applying Scripture to My Life’.” In it, Kieser explores three faulty assumptions that can make the practice of application go very wrong.
Kieser makes some excellent points that ought to be considered. It is for many of the same reasons that I generally avoid the question of “How do I apply the Bible to my life?” and frame application more as “How does the text instruct me to change?”
I might quibble with a little of Kieser’s rhetoric. At times it sounds like he believes we shouldn’t change personally but only get swept up in the Lord’s story. But by the end, he clearly wishes change for God’s people as they draw closer in relationship to him. But that really is but a quibble, as I would heartily cheer the sort of application he wishes for more of.
Some friends of mine recently pointed me to this article from Steve Mathewson on preaching the gospel from Judges. Mathewson wrestled through an old debate about whether we ought to teach OT narratives as foreshadowings of Christ or as examples to follow or avoid. And in the end, Mathewson cogently demonstrates that we shouldn’t have to decide between those options.
After wrestling through a philosophical framework for reading the OT, Mathewson gives a few examples from texts about Ehud and Barak.
I agree with many of Mathewson’s conclusions. One thing I would add to his reflection is that, before we even attempt to connect the text to Christ or to application, we must first grasp the author’s main point for the original audience. Mathewson essentially does this in his examples, but he doesn’t state outright that he is doing so. But much trouble would be resolved if didn’t race immediately from the text to the cross, or from the text to today. Taking the time to consider the full meaning for the original audience is the very practice that will enable us to grasp its teaching about Christ and its true implications for people today.
And though Mathewson frames his article around preaching, his framework applies just as much to personal or small group Bible study.
HT: Mark Fodale, Andy Cimbala
