Bible Study | Knowable Word

Beware Unpleasant Harmony

February 17, 2014 By Peter Krol

Have you ever tried singing unaccompanied hymns with a group of tone-deaf people? It presents a unique challenge: Can we hold the tune? Will we end in the same key in which we began? Is the melody recognizable, or would an eavesdropper assume we’re trying one of those new-fangled old-hymn-with-new-music arrangements (and one that wasn’t done very well)?

Vancouver 125 (2011), Creative Commons

With such a group, you’ve accomplished something special if you’ve gotten the group to sing in unison. Usually, you get harmony whether you want it or not. But the harmony is unpleasant if the original tune isn’t clear.

Biblical Harmonization

I just finished a series of Bible studies on the feeding of the 5,000. My goal has been to show that the Gospels recount the same event, but each with a different point. Last week, I summarized the unique intentions of each Gospel’s account.

In this final post, I’ll step back from the study’s content to reflect on the methodology behind it. In particular, I’d like to make explicit what was implicit all along: the dangers of harmonization.

Harmonization is the process of taking multiple accounts of the same event and combining them into a unified whole. So, we harmonize when we teach a lesson on “The Feeding of the 5,000” without looking at a specific passage.

Harmonization is not necessarily a bad thing. It’s very helpful when we’re reconstructing a historical event or building general biblical literacy. For example, most children’s Bibles won’t have a separate chapter for each of the four feeding accounts. They combine the accounts into a single chapter to help children become familiar with the event itself.

But harmonization can be unhelpful when it clouds the text’s message.

Some Dangers

While harmonization is not always bad, here are some dangers of not doing it carefully:

1. Divorcing the event from the text.

We’ll think of the event as a historical abstraction, which can lead to the second danger.

2. Assigning our own meaning to the event.

In the absence of a particular text (with a particular main point), we might assign any point we want to the event. Such abstraction can lead people to use the Bible to prove anything they want to prove. This approach is not submissive to either the text handed down to us or the divine Author who handed it down .

3. Dulling observation

We think of the little boy’s lunch as being central to any discussion of the feeding. We fail to notice that only John mentions this boy. Similarly, only Luke mentions the disciples’ concern with not only food but lodging for the multitude.

4. Hindering interpretation

Why does only John mention the little boy’s lunch? Why does only Luke mention the disciples’ concern to find the people not only food but lodging? Such questions simply don’t matter if we harmonize the accounts.

5. Flattening application

If I harmonize the feeding accounts, I might always land on the same application (probably something about giving up what little I have and trusting Jesus to multiply it). I’ll lose the rich variety of applications that Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John make to different audiences.

A Way Forward

Let’s hear the text—each text within its context. Once there’s a clear tune, we can see how it fits together with others.

The key is to learn to sing before you try to harmonize.

What Frozen Taught Me about Bible Study

February 7, 2014 By Peter Krol

I’ve seen this movie a million times. Not this exact film, of course, but many like it. O Disney, how you love your clichés; let me count the ways:

Cutting edge, beautiful animation? Check.
Pleasantly catchy tunes? Check.
Adventurous young princess pushing boundaries? Check.
Handsome young feller rolling over for his sweet crush? Check.
Skin-deep, feelings-driven love at first sight? Check.
Confusing this love with “true love”? Check.
Promises of gooey sentimentality? Check.
Look inside, find yourself, break free, follow your heart, “Let It Go”? Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.

The movie’s action turns on the declaration that “only an act of true love can thaw a frozen heart.” Upon hearing such drivel, I begin preparing an agenda for discussion. I think, My daughter—mesmerized by her first theatrical experience—must learn to see through these lies. I’m glad we came, for it will be a good exercise in discernment.

However, something shifted. I need to see the movie again to remember exactly when and how it shifted, but the shift was clear. The seeds of drivel sown throughout the movie never bore fruit. In fact, those seeds were trampled on, dug up, and burned in the fire (or should I say frostbitten and discarded?).

Everything got turned on its head and flipped around, such that infatuation proved unsatisfying, self-indulgence had to cease, and true love required personal sacrifice.

Now here is something to celebrate.

What did this movie teach me about Bible study?

I could write about the Bible’s message of true love—the sacrifice of the only innocent one, who thaws our frozen hearts and restores us into God’s royal family—but I don’t want to give away any detailed plot spoilers from the movie. (I recommend this excellent reflection on Frozen by my friend Sarah Monticue.)

I could write about the bankruptcy of self-actualization, but it’s way too easy a target.

Instead, I’ll write about how Frozen reminded me not to presume an interpretation simply because I’ve observed something familiar.

The clichés were familiar. The message was familiar. The cinematic devices were familiar. The movie’s direction seemed familiar.

This familiarity led me to presume the movie’s main point. I was preparing to rebut the message of inward sovereignty and misdirected authenticity. But if I had stopped watching and hearing, I could have missed the film’s true intention.

So it is with the Bible. The more we read and study, the more likely we are to find ourselves in familiar territory.

And such familiarity comes at great risk. We presume to know what we’re reading. “I know that story,” “I’ll skim the part I’ve been through before,” and “I understand this; it’s time to move on” all put us in danger of missing the point. And since the point is to know Jesus better, I presume we won’t want to miss the point.

“Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it” (Heb 2:1, ESV).

How can we become better observers?

I notice this danger when I read emails or blogs or books that quote Scripture. I often skip the quotation (since I’m familiar with the Bible already) and dedicate my attention to what’s new (what this person wrote about the quote). The more I notice myself doing it, the more I realize the frequency with which I do it.

And I’ve realized that I do it in my Bible reading as well. As soon as I hit the familiar parts, I fly through them to get to something more innovative and exciting.

We must be aware of this tendency so we can resist it. Let’s master observation so we can perpetually build on what we know, but without presuming that there’s nothing more to learn. Let’s learn not only to see but to observe.

One thing that helps me to fight deadening familiarity is to read a different translation each year. Also, I like switching Bibles from time to time, so a familiar text isn’t on the same part of the page. But not everyone is like me. What do you find helpful in resisting familiarity and presumption in Bible study?

Perhaps you find my advice a bit cold, as though I would prefer unfamiliarity over familiarity. Please know that I’m arguing not for ignorance but for careful observation.

And, well, the cold never bothered me anyway.

Help Your Kids Love Bible Study

January 29, 2014 By Peter Krol

Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven. (Matt 19:14)

If we want to help people to know Jesus, we should help them learn the Bible. To help them learn the Bible, we can help them learn to study the Bible.

These things are not just for adults. That’s why I write fairly often about how to help children learn to study the Bible.

Andrew Weiseth, writing at The Resurgence blog, shares my passion. He recently wrote an article called “1 Simple Way to Get Kids to Love Bible Study.”

His method is simple: Take advantage of their love of play. Act it out; make it fun. Bring the text to life.

I suggested a similar thing in my post about teaching 4-year-olds.

What do you think? Have you found such a technique helpful for children?

Check it out!

What Downton Abbey Taught Me about Bible Study

January 24, 2014 By Peter Krol

This show is dark. Last week’s episode had me crying harder than I can remember since Scar dropped Mufasa into the wildebeest stampede.

I have a friend whose wife wants him to watch it with her. He got a few episodes in and couldn’t handle any more. He enjoys watching TV for fun (even British period drama), but, as he explained to me, Downton Abbey wasn’t fun. It was hard work. The darkness was so depressing that it kept him on edge, and he couldn’t relax enough to enjoy it.

Yet the show has over a million Likes on Facebook. In the United States, Season 2 set the record for the most-watched mini-series ever to air on PBS’s Masterpiece Classic. Season 3 demolished the record, as almost 8 million Americans saw the season première. Our English friends seem a bit amused by the show’s unprecedented popularity here across the ocean, but you can’t deny it strikes a chord.

Downton shows how broken we are. Class doesn’t matter. Wealth doesn’t matter. Gender, sexual orientation, marital status, ethnicity – none of it makes a difference. We are all broken people.

Ocean liners sink. People get sick. Some die horrifically. Siblings are incredibly nasty toward each other. Innocents are condemned, and the guilty escape. Investments fall apart. Fulfilment is elusive. War ravages a generation. Destitution breeds prostitution, which breeds desperation. Reputations fall. Obnoxious pride demeans people and destroys relationships. The unlovely stay perpetually unloved. Dishonesty ruins good things. Condescension, irritation, disrespect, and grudges abound. People are broken. Situations are broken. Conventions and institutions and expectations are broken. Everything is broken.

Yet, the occasional ray of light ignites hope.

The lump in a woman’s breast turns out not to be cancerous. True love is possible. More money shows up. Technology advances. Life improves. Friends and lovers reconcile. The Dowager Countess delights us with her unique perspectives on life.

I’ll be honest: Downton doesn’t offer much hope, but the hope is still there. And that, I think, is why people keep watching.

What Downton Abbey has to say is really not much different from the Bible.

There’s a reason there’s so much that is dark in this world. There’s a reason we suffer as we do. There’s a reason people and institutions are so broken. Adam made his fateful choice so long ago in that quiet garden (Rom 5:12-14). He wanted to decide for himself what was right or wrong, true or false, valuable or worthless. You and I would have made the same choice if it had been us.

And yet there’s hope. Not the hope of women’s liberation, or true love, or producing an heir, or affording a certain lifestyle. But the hope of true life. The hope of finding the delight and fulfilment and acceptance we’ve always longed for. The hope of being united to our Creator and becoming more and more like him and living up to our full potential in him.

When you read the Bible, don’t shy away from the darkness. Realize it. Understand it. Let it resonate with your experience. Don’t paint a smile on your face and pretend everything’s just alright. If you don’t trust Christ for your life, however, you’re stuck here.

By all means, please make sure you find the hope. The real hope of Jesus Christ, in his death and resurrection. If you trust in Jesus and your Bible reading leaves you feeling guilty or discouraged or anxious for the future, you’ve undoubtedly missed something important.

Structure: the Shape of Meaning

January 10, 2014 By Peter Krol

Sometimes the Bible’s meaning is plain and simple:

“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 20:31, ESV).
“Now the point in what we are saying is this: we have such a high priest, one who is seated at the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in heaven” (Heb 8:1).

Many times, however, the meaning is not so plain:

“Noah began to be a man of the soil, and he planted a vineyard. He drank of the wine and became drunk and lay uncovered in his tent” (Gen 9:20-21).
“Now among those who went up to worship at the feast were some Greeks. So these came to Philip, who was from Bethsaida in Galilee, and asked him, ‘Sir, we wish to see Jesus.’ Philip went and told Andrew; Andrew and Philip went and told Jesus” (John 12:20-22).

Deborah Austin (2010), Creative Commons

When you’re studying a Bible passage and the point is not stated explicitly, one thing you can do is zoom out and observe the structure. Often, authors use structure to convey meaning, and we might not get the meaning unless we discern the shape of the text.

For example, Noah’s nakedness in the vineyard comes right after God dismantled and recreated the entire world (Gen 6-8). When we read of a naked man of the soil who consumes a fruit, and of a sin that enters God’s pristine world, alarm bells should go off in our heads, reminding us of Genesis 3. We suddenly realize that, though the Flood may have wiped people from the face of the earth, it could never wipe sin from their hearts. The structure of Genesis (cycles of creation-fall-new beginning) illuminates this strange episode for us.

For another example: John 12 concludes the first half of John’s Gospel. (Chapter 13 launches Act II, with most of the rest of the book describing the last 24 hours before Jesus’ death.) With the singling out of Philip and Andrew (John 12:22), we remember the beginning of the story, where these two men were some of the first disciples called by Jesus (John 1:40, 43). Only this time, Jesus doesn’t have to recruit anyone; disciples are coming to him. The initial “Come and see” (John 1:39, 46) has morphed into “Sir, we wish to see” (John 12:21). These bookends on John 1-12 (among others) show the tremendous impact Jesus’ years of ministry had on the world. This impact fulfills prophecies like Zech 8:20-23 and triggers Jesus’ troubled reflections on his looming death (John 12:23-33).

Over the next month or so, I’ll illustrate the value of structure through a study of the feeding of the 5,000. Through the context and structure of each Gospel, I hope to show that Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John used the same event for a different purpose. Stay tuned!

Get to Know the Word this Year

December 20, 2013 By Peter Krol

Rob Pongsajapan (2006), Creative Commons

In my home office, there’s a fireproof safe where my wife and I keep our most precious possessions. While we partly use the safe for legal papers, we’ve filled most of it with the 45 love letters that document the development of our romance. This bundle of letters is more than a memento; it’s our story.

The story begins with a question mark. A love-struck young man composes a poetic thank-you note to a sweet girl who has done a nice thing for him. He ends the note with a simple question—a question clear enough to give her reason to write back, but vague enough to prevent any guilt should she choose not to. Either way, the presence of the question mark is indisputable, and with it, he takes a chance.

Thana Thaweeskulchai (2008), Creative Commons

She chooses to write back, asking her own vague question in return. Queen’s knight to c3. Game on.

The remaining details will remain private, but I’m willing to share this much: We pored over those letters. We wrapped our hearts in them, and we squeezed every juicy jot and tittle for another drop of meaning. We didn’t read those letters because we had to, though I admit there was a sense of compulsion. We didn’t read those letters to learn about each other, though it’s true each delivery brought more information. Technically, what we did with those letters wasn’t exactly reading. It was more like fixating or indulging.

And all for what? We sought this one thing: to get to know each other. We wanted a relationship.

Similarly, you and I get to read the Bible to build our relationship with the God who wrote it. He already knows us, and he wants us to get to know him. He became a man to reconcile us to himself and live with us forever, and he left a book documenting the whole affair. “And this is eternal life, that they know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent” (John 17:3).

Sometimes we think we need a special encounter to know God. We seek a mountaintop experience where we can behold his glory and see him face to face. We want to hear his voice speak with clarity and power. We long to be wowed from on high.

The Apostle Peter had such an experience with Jesus, and he concluded that you and I don’t need to share it:

We were eyewitnesses of his majesty. For when he received honor and glory from God the Father, and the voice was borne to him by the Majestic Glory, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased,” we ourselves heard this very voice borne from heaven, for we were with him on the holy mountain. And we have something more sure, the prophetic word, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place. (2 Peter 1:16-19)

The text isn’t clear whether the prophetic word is more sure than the mountaintop experience, or more sure than it would have been without the mountaintop experience (does the word trump the mountaintop, or is it confirmed by the mountaintop?). Either way, Peter says this word is sure. We don’t need the mountaintop; we need to pay more attention to the word that has already been spoken.

That’s why, when Paul wanted to introduce people to Jesus, he introduced them to the Bible (Acts 17:1-3). The apostles were clear that Jesus was the main point of the Bible (John 1:45, 5:39-40, Luke 24:44-49, 1 Peter 1:10-12).

We study the Bible to know Jesus and to help others know him.

Maybe you’ve never studied the Bible without a tour guide or commentary, and you want to learn the basics. Perhaps you know the basics but want to make them instinctive, like an athlete perfecting a skill through endless repetition. Or perhaps you already teach the Bible, but you do so intuitively, unsure of how to take what you do and package it up for wholesale distribution among your flock.

Whatever your situation, a simple and sensible Bible study method will help. This year, how can you be more intentional about both learning to study the Bible and teaching others to study it? Do you think it would be worth it to get to know the Word who is the Truth?

What the Hobbit Taught Me about Bible Study

December 12, 2013 By Peter Krol

Warner Bros.

Note: In honor of the second installment of Peter Jackson’s Hobbit trilogy opening at midnight tonight, I’m reposting this article from last year.

At midnight tonight, Peter Jackson’s The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey hits theaters. Although I won’t lose any sleep over it tonight, I am yet among those who eagerly anticipate it.

I’ve read the book to my children over the last few months (coincidentally, we finished it just this week), with much delight all around. I’m particularly struck by the smallness of the heroes.

There’s one hobbit and 13 dwarves. One wizard travels with them for a time, but he’s glaringly absent from the most dangerous episodes (at least in the book’s version of the story). In the main company, you’ll find no humans or elves, although both races come into play later in the story.

Tolkien highlights the surprisingly noble smallness of the main hero when Bilbo confronts the evil dragon Smaug with a bit of riddled autobiography:

I come from under the hill, and under the hills and over the hills my paths led. And through the air. I am he that walks unseen…I am the clue-finder, the web-cutter, the stinging fly. I was chosen for the lucky number…I am he that buries his friends alive and drowns them and draws them alive again from the water. I came from the end of a bag, but no bag went over me…I am the friend of bears and the guest of eagles. I am Ringwinner and Luckwearer; and I am Barrel-rider.

Tolkien was on to something. He knew that God designed the world such that the weak would overcome the strong and the least would outshine the greatest. This is, in fact, the message of the cross which we preach (1 Cor 1:18-2:5).

This message permeates the Bible and ought to influence our study. Such paradoxes exhibit the glory of God.

younger brothers inherit over older brothers
old, frail people out-class youthful, strong people
shrimps out-fight giants
uneducated people outperform intellectuals
sinful people end up closer to God than religious experts
humble people gain more favor than proud people

Jesus calls the sick, not the healthy. He makes the seeing blind. He seeks and saves the lost. He shames the strong.

We’re always tempted to hope in ourselves and our performance. As you read the Bible, remember that God doesn’t need your strength; he wants to give you his. He doesn’t want your best; he wants to make you his. He doesn’t need you, but he wants you to need him. Look for this theme as you read.

And delight in it as you watch Jackson’s movie.

Your Method Shapes Your Bible Study

December 4, 2013 By Peter Krol

Recently, Aaron Armstrong at Blogging Theologically posted a short series about Bible study entitled “Getting Serious About Your Studies.” He focuses not so much on principles as tools, and you may find his recommendations helpful.

He concludes the series by reflecting on the crucial importance of our approach to the Bible. The results of our study are not arbitrary; our choices for how to read the Bible will affect what we end up seeing in the Bible.

Whether we realize it or not, we do this every time we pick up our Bible—and the rules and principles we hold to drastically affect what we believe the Bible says. For example:

Whether you believe pastoral ministry is for men only or is open to women as well stems from the interpretive decisions you make.

How you approach the “God-hates-yet-loves-sinners” paradox is heavily influenced by your hermeneutical approach.

How you understand the world to have come into being and how this world will end is drastically affected by the principles you use for interpreting the text.

It’s a good warning to give careful though to our methods.

Check it out!

What Catching Fire (Hunger Games #2) Taught Me About Bible Study

November 22, 2013 By Peter Krol

In honor of the second “Hunger Games” movie opening this weekend, I’m updating and reposting this article (originally published June 4, 2012) about the novel Catching Fire.

I just finished reading Catching Fire by Suzanne Collins, part 2 of the Hunger Games series (see here for my thoughts on the first book). The plot pacing and literary devices were similar to the first book, but a few new things struck me in this volume that help with Bible study.

1. Structure is Your Friend

The Hunger Games is divided into three parts; each part had nine chapters. Not bad. It helped me to remember the flow of the story: the Tributes, the Games, the Victor.

Catching Fire has the same structure: three parts with nine chapters each. A nice, memorable flow: the Spark, the Quell, the Enemy.

I must admit, I looked ahead to the third book. Guess what? Three parts, nine chapters each. Fantastic. That means the entire series is made up of nine parts with nine chapters in each part. Beautiful symmetry!

It can’t be an accident. In fact, most chapters (and some of the parts) don’t really end with a scene change the way most books do. Collins clearly set things up to have the right number of chapter and part divisions.

How does this help with Bible study? Biblical authors employ the same tactic. They consciously structure their books so readers can easily remember and assimilate the material. Here are some examples.

The Plagues on Egypt (Exodus 7:14-10:29), organized as three sets of three plagues each. Notice how the first plague of each set begins with something like “Go to Pharaoh in the morning…” (Ex 7:14, 8:20, 9:13). The tight organization contrasts with the utter chaos resulting from the plagues, and it helps us appreciate the power and majesty of the Lord.
Jesus’ Sermons in Matthew (Matthew 5-7, 10, 13, 18, 23-25), dividing the Gospel into five sections. Each section highlights a particular aspect of what it means to be Jesus’ disciple. The book climaxes with the Great Commission to go out and make disciples (Matt 28:16-20).

Pay attention to structure, as authors use it to couch their main points in a memorable way. For more help, I highly recommend The Literary Structure of the Old Testament by David Dorsey.

2. Plot Twists Have Always been in Style

Catching Fire has lots of plot twists. Some are clearly foreshadowed; others caught me by surprise. Modern stories seem boring if they’re too predictable, but Collins delivers engagingly.

Plot twists are not a modern invention; the Bible showed us how to do it long ago.

Readers of the Old Testament expected the Messiah to deliver Israel (Acts 1:6), but who would have guessed that God himself would become a man, be born of a virgin, live in poverty, and die in great shame? If the rulers of this age had known it, they would not have crucified Jesus (1 Cor 2:7-8). Many today still read the Bible but miss Jesus, the main point (2 Cor 3:12-16).

Now that we know the end of the story, however, we can go back and get the point.

P.S. For a fantastic review of the content and ethics of The Hunger Games, see N.D. Wilson’s article posted by Trevin Wax at The Gospel Coalition. And for a keen but scathing review of the popular response to the Hunger Games franchise, see Scott Mendelson’s review at Forbes.

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3 Skills to Help You Find the Main Point

October 25, 2013 By Peter Krol

You’re swirling in details. You tried the OIA method of Bible study, and it yielded more observations and more questions than you could handle. You thought you’d dabble in the magic of Bible study, but the spell has taken over, and the water line has exceeded flood stage. You’re tempted to cue “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” and drown your exhaustion in a bucket of popcorn.

Don’t lose hope. You’re almost there; you just need to pull it all together and integrate the details into a coherent main point.

Such integration matters because ancient authors didn’t waste space with meaningless details. Every word had a purpose. Every sentence captured an idea. Every paragraph advanced the agenda. And every section had a main point. The accumulation of these points promoted the goal of bringing the audience closer to the Lord. These main points are the ones worth fighting for.

So how do we figure out the main point? I’ll give 3 tips and illustrate them from my recent posts on Proverbs 5.

1. Always ask “why?”

The challenge of interpretation is to move past the “what” to discover the “why” of the passage. Why is this text here? What was the author’s agenda?

Though most Bibles have headings at the beginning of each section (Proverbs 5 in ESV: “Warning Against Adultery”), these headings are usually observation summaries and not interpretive main points. These summaries help when you’re flipping through and trying to find a specific verse, but they don’t always comprise the passage’s meaning. To convert these summary headings to main points, sometimes you only have to ask “why.” For example, “Why does this passage warn us against adultery?”

Similarly, you can take any or all of your observations, ask “why,” and move closer to the main point.

2. Account for the context.

We’ve seen how the book overview places the work in history. This historical context influences our reading of the text and helps us to see the main point. In the case of Proverbs 5, we see Solomon training a new generation of nobility to lead Israel with purity and integrity.

In addition to the historical, two further types of context should guide us.

First, examine the literary context. What was the main point of the previous section of text? How does the author move from that section into this section? What issues lingered at the end of that section, and how does this section address those issues? Because Genesis 1 is the beginning, we have no prior literary context. Instead, this chapter will establish the context for everything that follows. Thus, we should read Genesis 2:4-25 (and following passages) in light of Genesis 1:1-2:3.

Second, examine any intertextual context. That is, use a search engine, cross-references, or list of Old Testament quotations to find other parts of the Bible that quote this section (or are quoted by it), and figure out the connection between them. When God inspired authors to quote other passages, he was showing us how to interpret those passages.

3. Track the author’s flow of thought.

Ask: How did the author get from the first verse to the last verse? Break the chapter into paragraphs or stanzas, and figure out each paragraph’s/stanza’s main point, which is a sub-point on the author’s agenda. String those points together to see how one paragraph/stanza moves to the next. If you’re still stumped, you can break each paragraph/stanza down into sentences and track the flow from sentence to sentence. Don’t give up; this challenging skill gets easier with practice.

For Proverbs 5, I outlined the flow of thought in my first post:

verses 1-6: not all sexual temptation is as good as it seems
verses 7-14: the wrong choices have dire consequences
verses 15-20: utter unselfishness in the context of marital love is surprisingly intoxicating
verses 21-23: those who think they know satisfaction better than God does have sprung their own trap

So, compiling all my observation and interpretation, my final post on Proverbs 5 reached this main point: The wise can see through the culture’s illusion of sexual “freedom.” This main point took me right to Jesus and on to application.

Sexual freedom is truly an illusion. Jesus submitted to the cross and the grave so we could be free of both forever; he proved it by his glorious resurrection. Now we get to image him to the world. Find your freedom in self-denial. Obtain life through your death. Secure satisfaction by serving and satisfying others, especially your spouse.

The wise person sees the culture’s illusions, blasts them with Bible dynamite, and wins others to radically selfless, Christ-like joy, far more exciting than either religious prudishness or enslaving immorality.

Each text has a point. These three skills will help you get there so you can see Jesus and find eternal life in him.

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