Main Point | Knowable Word

We Love to Give Gold Stars

October 24, 2022 By Ryan Higginbottom

People love stories, and the Gospels and histories are some of the Bible books we’re drawn to most. But interpreting these narrative books can be tricky.

Here’s one hurdle. We have an impulse to label every character. We want to know: Are they good or bad? Was this particular action praiseworthy or condemnable?

We pose these black-or-white questions because it’s much easier to have Biblical characters in stark categories when we turn to application. We should be like the good person, and we should not be like the bad person.

Most often, the Bible does not bow to our desires for quick labeling. Applying narrative texts requires the hard, slow work of wisdom.

Jacob vs Rahab

Let’s consider Jacob and Rahab. Jacob’s story reads like a winding path, so we feel a strong impulse to grade him in each scene.

Here is the beginning of Genesis 35.

God said to Jacob, “Arise, go up to Bethel and dwell there. Make an altar there to the God who appeared to you when you fled from your brother Esau.” So Jacob said to his household and to all who were with him, “Put away the foreign gods that are among you and purify yourselves and change your garments. Then let us arise and go up to Bethel, so that I may make there an altar to the God who answers me in the day of my distress and has been with me wherever I have gone.” So they gave to Jacob all the foreign gods that they had, and the rings that were in their ears. Jacob hid them under the terebinth tree that was near Shechem. (Genesis 35:1–4)

Those foreign gods are curious! Did Jacob hide them under a tree so he could retrieve them? Or did he do it so there would be a defined marker of repentance?

The text doesn’t answer these questions. We are far more concerned about handing out (or withholding) gold stars than the Biblical authors were.

Compare this small incident in Jacob’s life with the story of Rahab, which begins in Joshua 2. Rahab was a prostitute living in Jericho, yet she hid the Jewish spies when they arrived to scope out the city (Josh 2:1–5). She lied about the spies to the king’s men, and this allowed the spies to return safely to Israel (Josh 2:23).

When Israel came to Jericho and “devoted all in the city to destruction” (Josh 6:21), Rahab and her family were rescued, just as the messengers had promised (Josh 6:22–23). Rahab was welcomed as an ethnic outsider into Israel (Josh 6:25), and the author of Hebrews praises her for her faith (Heb 11:31).

My point is not to contrast Jacob with Rahab. Rather, notice how the text directs us to view these incidents. The Biblical authors commend Rahab’s actions, many of which seem to violate Mosaic law. On the other hand, the Biblical authors are silent about Jacob and the idols.

The Dangers and Effects of a Grading Mindset

This is a discussion about interpretation. There is no harm in asking scores of questions related to observations of a Biblical text. However, we must be careful to answer only the questions the Bible itself answers.

When we obsess about the ethics of every action of a character in a Bible passage, we are likely to miss the main point. We should investigate why the author wrote this passage in this way; if they were not concerned with parsing the moral grade of a character’s actions, we should not be either.

Our desire to grade each character’s actions often leads us to speculation. We assume that people in the Bible will think, feel, or act like us (or like someone we know), and our subsequent conclusions can lead us off course. We must be mindful of when we are making good and necessary deductions and when we are in the midst of conjecture.

This Too Points to Christ

We want our characters (or their actions) to be good or bad, but the Bible does not bend to this binary. We want to point to a hero, to someone whose actions are consistently and thoroughly good so that we can listen to and follow them.

In other words, we want Jesus. He is the only person in whom there is no sin (1 John 3:5, 1 Peter 2:22). His actions were perfect, and his good works atone not only for our bad works, but for our bad thoughts, desires, and natures.

Like us, Biblical characters have flaws, some of which are on bright display. But those flaws are not the point of the passage as often as we think. When we fixate on these questions, we drift away from what matters most.

When a Beloved Doctrine is Not a Main Point

September 23, 2022 By Peter Krol

Last week, I cautioned care when we debate doctrines that cannot be found as the main points of particular passages of Scripture. To be clear, I am not saying that such doctrines are false; they very well may be true and worth believing! My point is simply that we ought to spend most of our time debating the main points, lest we lose sight of those main points in favor of issues, however true they may be, of lesser importance (Matt 23:1-36, especially Matt 23:23-24). In other words, the focus of our debates ought to be the focus of the Scriptures themselves.

Perhaps you might agree in theory, but what would this look like in practice? This principle can feel quite threatening when it gets personal.

Julia Manzerova (2010), Creative Commons

Examples

For example, is there any passage whose main point is the timing of a rapture? Is there any passage whose main point is to spell out a specific millennial view?

While the book of Galatians and the latter half of Romans 3 clearly teach the doctrine of justification by faith alone as a main point, the particular mechanism for how that justification takes place is not given the same level of attention. For example, is the primary mechanism for justification the righteousness of Christ being credited to believers (imputation), or is it the attachment of believers to Christ through union with him (incorporation)? Perhaps there are other options as well, but such finer points occupy much theological debate.

What about the various denominational positions on baptism or the Lord’s Supper? Church membership? Styles of worship? Church government?

Again, I am not saying that such things don’t matter. Nor that we can’t or shouldn’t hold positions on them (and discuss or debate said positions). All I am saying is: Does the gravity and emphasis of such debates correspond to the gravity and emphasis of such matters in the Scriptures themselves?

To highlight the problem: If you can argue for predestination from Ephesians 1, or you can present a case regarding gender roles from Ephesians 5, but you cannot articulate the main idea of the letter of Ephesians (God uniting all things together in Christ) or explain how chapters 1 and 5 advance that argument—you may be spending too much time on matters of lesser importance.

Conclusion

Systematic theology has much importance. But if the majority of your theological reflection or debate involves systematic doctrines with proof texts, perhaps some shifting of attention is in order.

Something to Consider in Theological Debate

September 16, 2022 By Peter Krol

I’ve written before that the truths of the Bible that are most worth fighting for are the main points. This does not mean that we can’t or shouldn’t fight for secondary or implied points. It means only that we ought to reserve greatest vehemence—and the greatest market share of air space—to the main points.

The next time you enter a theological disagreement or debate, I dare you to consider: Can I identify a single passage (not merely a verse) of Scripture that has as its main point the thing I’m arguing for? Please note: I am not asking if you can proof text your perspective. I am asking whether a living and breathing author of Scripture (as they will be once again in the resurrection) would concur that the conclusion you wish to fight for was, in fact, a main point of a particular passage in one of his books.

If the answer is “no,” I am not saying you shouldn’t fight for it. I am only asking, are you fighting for that conclusion without conceding the fight for the actual main points of Scripture? If you are not sure what this might look like in actual dialogue in the 21st century, have no fear. I expect to take up this matter further in the coming weeks. And you might want to consider my argument for why this matters.

Check the Context Before and After

August 5, 2022 By Peter Krol

As we’ve sought to demonstrate that literary context matters, we’ve focused primarily on specific verses or short segments of text that are commonly used without regard for the author’s argument to his original audience. But there is another way to make use of literary context in our Bible study, which is simply to pay attention to the texts immediately before and after the text under study. This practice aids interpretation by helping us identify not only what a passage says but also what it is doing to assist the author’s larger argument.

Here are some examples.

Help from the Preceding Text

2 Kings 2 tells the story of Elijah’s ascension into heaven and Elisha’s taking up the prophetic mantle from his mentor. A quick look at what comes immediately before reveals a king who died without a son (2 Kings 1:17-18). That setup (that King Ahaziah has no heir) introduces the chief concern that chapter 2 takes up: What will happen when Elijah goes? Will Israel be left without a prophetic voice?

The armor of God passage in Ephesians 6 begins with an overarching command that governs the rest of the passage: “Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might” (Eph 6:10). We ought to ask: How does one do that? What does it look like for someone to draw strength / be strengthened by the Lord and his strength? Perhaps help can be found immediately prior? In Paul’s command to masters, he suggests that the power to do good to their servants and cease with threatening comes from “knowing that he who is both their Master and your is in heaven, and that there is no partiality with him” (Eph 6:9). So a spiritual battle requires heavenly strength, which will come from trusting that Jesus is seated in heaven, far above all rule and authority (Eph 1:19-21), and giving good gifts to men (Eph 4:7-14).

Help from the Following Text

Genesis 38 tells a dark and tragic story about Judah, his sons, a daughter-in-law, and his eventual heir. Besides the dark content, it is especially strange for having been inserted right in the midst of a larger narrative that is supposed to be about Joseph. In fact, Gen 37:36 and Gen 39:1 repeat the same information in order to signal the fact that the main story line is being put on hold just to narrate Judah’s situation (which took place not all at once but over many years). Just keep reading into chapter 39 to see a number of clear contrasts between the half-brothers Judah and Joseph: experience of power, figurative use of garments, perspective toward God’s moral commands.

In Matthew 4:12-25, Jesus begins his public ministry, and Matthew describes it in a way that parallels Isaiah’s prophecy of a dawning light (Matt 4:15-16): beginning in Zebulun and Naphtali (Matt 4:12-17), passing by the way of the sea (Matt 4:18-22), and going beyond the Jordan (Matt 4:23-25). The next passage informs us that the light is here (speaking with the authority of God from the mountaintop – Matt 5:1-12) and is infecting the new people of God (Matt 5:13-16).

Help from both Before and After

Revelation 4 describes a magnificent scene of the vigorous worship offered in heaven to the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come. Immediately prior to this scene, Jesus comes knocking on the door and inviting those who persevere in bearing witness to him to join him on his throne, just as he joined his Father on his throne (Rev 3:20-21). That highlights the significance of Jesus’ own invitation to witness the scene of heavenly worship (Rev 4:1). In addition, the following scene (Rev 5) shows Jesus himself as the only one worthy to receive authority from the Father to execute judgment on the earth. He acquired such authority through his death and resurrection (Rev 5:6). Noticing the flow of thought helps us to preach the gospel very specifically from each text. In chapter 4, the gospel is not one of death and resurrection, particularly, but of Jesus opening the way to the Father. In chapter 5, this gospel is fleshed out by showing how Jesus opened that way and became qualified to receive all authority in heaven and on earth.

Matthew 8:23-9:8 contains three brief narratives of Jesus performing great miracles. The stories hang together as a unity to explain Jesus’ great authority, on both heaven (Matt 8:28-34) and earth (Matt 8:23-27), to forgive sins (Matt 9:1-8). So much, so good, but look at how much more the surrounding context adds. Immediately before, we have would-be followers of Jesus confronted with the great cost of following Jesus (Matt 8:18-22); the question of whether they are willing to pay that cost is left hanging and unanswered. And immediately after, we see not a “would-be” but an actual follower of Jesus responding immediately to the call (Matt 9:9-12). Perhaps the chain of three miracles is there to explain what makes the difference. To explain the chief reason why it is worth paying the cost to follow Jesus. Can sick sinners find authority like this anywhere else?

Conclusion

Whenever you study a passage, one simple discipline to develop is to look at what happens immediately before and after. As you do, consider how those surrounding texts help you to understand what your passage is doing in the larger argument. In just a few minutes of effort, you may get significant help toward interpreting the main point of your passage.

Not Every Interesting Detail is Important

July 29, 2022 By Ryan Higginbottom

anonymous (2011), public domain

As Christians learn to study the Bible, we pay more attention to the details. We notice repeated words, names, grammar, and genre. We train our eyes to spot anything surprising or out of place.

What we do with these observations is just as important as making them in the first place. Observing the text is like stocking the pantry. We gather raw materials, but we don’t know what we need until it’s time to cook.

The Problem with Interesting Details

Most of our Biblical observations arise because a detail captures our attention. We’re interested in a certain feature, conversation, or nuance in the text.

Yet when we move from observation to interpretation, we must be careful. Though there might be curious or compelling details in the passage, we should try to zero in on the main point. We’re likely to miss what God has for us if we concentrate on what is intriguing instead of what is most important.

Ideally, we should give our attention and thought to themes and details in proportion to their importance. Granted, we don’t usually know the major thrust of a passage until we’ve spent some time with it. But if we want to land on the main point, we should give our energy to the evidence and supporting truths that point in that direction. If we camp out on curiosities, we might be off the mark when stating the main point. And if we miss the main point, our application might be unnecessary or misdirected.

Additionally, we should avoid the trap of speculation. If we get obsessed with a detail or surprise in the passage, we’ll wonder why it’s there. When we interpret, we’ll try to answer related questions even though the answers are nowhere to be found in the text. While enjoyable on an intellectual level, this is merely spinning our wheels—expending mental energy without making progress.

What’s Important?

The natural question, then, is this: How do I know if a detail is important? How do we know what to keep and what to discard?

Here’s the brief answer. If it leads to the main point, it’s important. If it doesn’t, it’s not.

In other words, when you follow the author’s train of thought, is this detail included? Is information about this character or description repeated or used later in the passage? It this detail were omitted from the text, could you still make your argument about the main point?

Here’s an example. The fifth plague is described in Exodus 9:1–7, and we read in verse 6 that all the livestock of Egypt died. However, both later in chapter 9 (verse 20) as well as in chapter 14, additional livestock are mentioned. How can this be if all the livestock died? You might pay attention to the phrase “livestock which are in the field” in Exodus 9:3 and speculate about exactly where the pestilence affected the animals. You might wonder whether Egypt simply stole animals from surrounding nations after all their animals died.

We’re not told. And all the wondering and worrying distracts from the main point of the passage: God judged Egypt and not Israel. The later reappearance of livestock is an interesting detail, but not an important one.

Build on the Main Point

It’s irresponsible to build doctrine on or draw application from mere curiosities in Scripture. Some of the oddities in the Bible are interesting, but not valuable.

When you ask questions related to your observations and turn to answer them, be vigilant. Answer only answer those questions where the text provides an explicit answer or one drawn through reasonable deduction.

We honor the Lord as we draw our main doctrine and application from the main points of Scripture. And to get to the main point, we must make sure to focus on what’s important, and not only what’s interesting.

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Do Your Best

March 18, 2022 By Peter Krol

My third commandment for commentary usage is:

You shall make every effort to form interpretive conclusions or questions about interpretations before consulting a commentary.

Is this because I think you won’t need any help?

The Short Answer

No.

A More Nuanced Answer

I’m not suggesting that you utterly bar yourself from the insights of commentaries early in your Bible study process. Last week, I suggested that different kinds of questions need different methods for finding the answers. That’s why this third commandment says that you shall make every effort to form interpretive conclusions or questions about interpretations before consulting a commentary.

In other words, if your question is more observational in nature, then go ahead and consult a commentary. Find quickly those answers ye seek. Do you just need a map? Do you need a historical tidbit? Do you not remember a proper name? Is a particular term unfamiliar to you? Just do it. Take a look; get some help.

This third commandment focuses on the process of interpretation, after observation (or in light of it). And my exhortation to you is to learn how to do the work for yourself. Paul told Timothy to “do your best” in his handling of Scripture (2 Tim 2:15). The standard for evaluation is not getting everything perfect, but for personal progress to be visible (1 Tim 4:15).

So to make progress, you need to learn how to wrestle with the text. You need foster your curiosity and learn how to investigate. You need to gain more confidence from the text than from the experts.

So I encourage you to do your own work first. Observe and interpret, all the way up to the point where you have a guess at the author’s main point. Once there, you’re in the best position to read and consider what others have said about your text. You’ll have firm footing from which to evaluate what they say, testing everything, that you may hold fast to what is good and reject what is bad (1 Thess 5:20-22).

Six Reasons You Should Have Your Own Interpretive Ideas Before Consulting a Commentary

“The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him” (Prov 18:17). The first commentary you read will likely seem to be right. Unless it’s not your first time reflecting that deeply on the text.
Commentators often disagree with one another. Why shouldn’t you be able to disagree with them when necessary?
Commentators often change their minds from their earlier writings to their later writings. They are constantly re-evaluating and re-thinking their conclusions based on new insights into the text. So why shouldn’t you do the same with their conclusions?
It is more important for you to make progress in your ability to handle the word than for you to have perfect answers for any given text. If you can get answers only by reading a commentary, what happens if you lose access to your commentaries? Or can’t find a decent one for the next book you study?
If you teach, people will ask you questions the commentary may not have answered. If you haven’t learned to answer your own questions from the text, how will you help others learn how to do that?
Over-reliance or premature reliance on commentaries comes dangerously close to establishing those commentators as a high priestly class through whom your relationship with God is mediated. Jesus died to tear the veil and give you access to the very mind and heart of God through his word.

For the Record

And less you misunderstand my perspective, let me repeat: Once you have a guess at the author’s main point, consult some commentaries! You should welcome the help. It would not be wise to cut yourself off from the trained insights of others to guide you toward even further progress. Do your best.

Arise, My Love — Part 2: Interpretation

December 10, 2021 By Peter Krol

In a previous post, I pulled back the curtain on my observation of Song of Solomon 2:7-3:5, yielding the following structure:

Song 2:8-9 – her (daydreaming?) delight in the voice of her beloved
- Song 2:10-15 – the contents of her beloved’s voice
  - Song 2:10-13 – Arise and come away
  - Song 2:14-15 – Come out and catch up
- Song 2:16-17 – her declaration of mutual possession with her beloved
Song 3:1-4 – her dream of seeking and finding the one her soul loves
- Song 3:5 – her oath for the other young women not to stir up love yet

Now I’d like to show you how I move further into interpretation and application.

Her Daydream

The chief goal of interpretation is to arrive at the poet’s main point. And to grasp the main point of the entire poem, it helps to first grasp the main points of each of the stanzas. So I investigate each stanza with the chief goal in mind: What is the main idea here?

Song 2:8-9: Why is her leading statement regarding “the voice” — and not the character, presence, or intimacy — “of my beloved”? Apparently, she is very much looking forward to what he will say to her in Song 2:10-15. What she daydreams about is those things he will say to her. But in these introductory verses, the emphasis is on the distance between them. He comes … He stands behind … gazing through … looking through … A barrier of miles separates them at first. And even when he arrives at her home, a barrier of brick and mortar continues to separate them. So she wants him close, but he can’t get too close yet.

Photo by **Maksim Kolykhanov** from **Pexels**

Song 2:10-13: The bookends on his first stanza appear to be the main idea: “Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away” (Song 2:10, 13). Everything in between is in support, providing the reasons he believes will persuade her to come away with him. For him, it is no longer time to avoid awakening love (Song 2:7); the season for love is in full bloom. It’s as though he says [translated into modern jargon]: “I like you. Do you like me? Check one: YES or NO.”

Song 2:14-15: The second stanza of his speech continues his persuasion. First, he proves to be a patient and gentle suitor, cherishing her like a precious dove hiding within the cliffside. Second, he asks for help with finding the things that will spoil their vineyards. Commentaries inform me that the verbs in v.15 are plural, so he is no longer talking to her alone, but to a group of others — most likely the daughters of Jerusalem. And it doesn’t matter whether verse 15 is spoken by the man (as suggested by the ESV headings) or the woman (as suggested by CSB headings): either way, the point is that this couple invites others to hold them accountable and help them protect one another’s bodies (as “vineyards” have been metaphors of bodies thus far in the Song – Song 1:6, 2:14).

Song 2:16-17: She describes their relationship as one of mutual possession of one another (v.16), which sounds a lot like the arrival and consummation of marriage. However, in v.17, she wants him to “turn” and do his gazelle-thing on cleft mountains — at least until the morning comes. Some think the “cleft mountains” are a metaphor for her breasts. This makes sense, as his gazelle-ness on mountains is clearly a picture of marital bliss in Song 8:14. However, in Song 2:17, the main verb is the imperative to “turn.” And the reference to “mountains” connects back to where he came from (Song 2:8). So it’s more likely that, in contrast to chapter 8, in this poem she recognizes that marriage has not yet come. They are not yet married, and they must say goodbye at the end of their time together.

Main Point of Song 2:8-17: This relationship is not yet a marriage relationship, but it is clearly heading in that direction. She daydreams about his invitation to join her in the season of awakening love. But though it is spring time, it is not yet morning. They are beginning to “possess” one another (to treat one another differently from how they treat others), but they are not yet fully there. Separate togetherness is the unfortunate reality of their relationship (Song 2:8-9). He makes a risk request (Song 2:10-15). She has clarity on the desired, though not yet present, result (Song 2:16-17).

Her Dream

Song 3:1-4: We now move into a full-fledged dream, as she “seeks” him on her bed by night. She can’t find him in her bed (Song 3:1). She can’t find him in the streets (Song 3:2). She can’t find him among the night watchmen (Song 3:3). But when she finally finds him, she clings to him and refuses to let go (Song 3:4). Until she brings him into her mother’s chamber (apparently quite romantic and not awkward at all in that culture) — so her dream’s end goal is the full consummation of marriage. She doesn’t want to have to say goodbye at the end of the evening any longer!

Main point of Song 3:1-4: She aligns her dreams for the relationship with the direction in which it ought to head: toward marriage and the intimacy of the marriage bed.

Her Charge

Song 3:5: She puts the young women of Jerusalem under oath not to enter this season of love until the right time. She understands how difficult and stressful that can be, but she understands how much it is worth it.

Main point of Song 3:5: Forsake all counterfeits to such love (which is heading in the direction of God-honoring marriage).

Conclusion

I’ve written this post according to the stream of my consciousness as I worked to figure out the main point of each stanza. But I’ve arrived at the following interpretive outline:

Godly relationships pursue a clear and selfless direction – Song 2:8-17
1. The unfortunate reality of separate togetherness – Song 2:8-9
2. The risky request to join the season of awakening love – Song 2:10-15
3. The desired result of marital possession, which is almost but not yet here – Song 2:16-17
Align your dreams of romance with that direction – Song 3:1-4
Forsake all counterfeits – Song 3:5

How does all of this add up into a main point for the entire poem? Main point: A couple’s purpose in pursuing a romantic relationship ought to be the movement from separated togetherness to the mutual possession of marriage.

In a future post, I’ll walk through my thinking on connecting this main point to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and then applying it to today.

The Argument of Hebrews 3:1-6

July 28, 2021 By Peter Krol

I appreciate Mike Leake’s reflection on Hebrews 3:1-6, where he walks through the passage’s argument in plain language. Take a gander.

When I read Hebrews 3:1-6 I tend to get that glazed over look on my face. It’s not that I don’t understand the words or even the structure of the sentences. The overall point is pretty simple; namely, Jesus is greater than Moses. But when I’ve read it I’ve always felt like I was missing something.
Why is the author of Hebrews telling us this? How does this serve his argument? I know that Jesus is better than Moses, but what is all this talk about building a house?

Check it out!

Discourse Analysis of the New Testament Writings: Profitably Intense

July 9, 2021 By Peter Krol

Discourse Anaylsis of the New Testament Writings, edited by Todd A. Scacewater, is an ambitious text that seeks to explain the structure and chief arguments of every book of the New Testament. I am grateful to Fontes Press for a complimentary copy given in exchange for an honest review.

Each book of the New Testament gets a chapter, where the contributor seeks to map out that book’s structure and chief arguments. Before doing so, however, each contributor takes a few pages to describe their methodology for “discourse analysis” (which is essentially the process of mapping out a book’s structure and chief arguments). A variety of contributors employ a variety of analytical methods, though many of them overlap, sharing the same theoretical influences.

But will this book help the ordinary believer in their Bible study?

Assessment

For many years, I have enthusiastically commended David Dorsey’s Literary Structure of the Old Testament as providing much help with the literary structures of every book of the Old Testament. I have long hoped for a companion volume to recommend that does a similar thing for the New Testament. Does Scacewater’s edition fulfill that role?

Yes and no.

Yes, it does complement Dorsey’s work — in that I can and will regularly reference this book when I seek to get a broad overview of an NT book. There is much insight here worth gleaning, and this book is well crafted to encourage us readers to dive back into the Scripture ourselves and continue to observe, observe, observe.

But sadly, no, it doesn’t complement Dorsey’s work — in that this book is clearly written with a strongly academic audience in mind. Dorsey is academically robust, yet still comprehensible to average Bible students. But the contributors to Scacewater’s work use a very high degree of technical terminology, both theological and grammatical, without defining terms. Many of them quote the Greek NT text without translating it. And they presume a high degree of background knowledge in the field of discourse analysis.

Therefore, I am happy to recommend this book as worthy of your time if you’re wishing to work hard and be stretched far. For a sample, see this reflection on the state of structural studies stimulated for me by the chapter on John’s gospel. But for most folks seeking to study the Scriptures, I will not be recommending this book as a matter of routine.

Finally, I’ll mention that one of the book’s endorsers, Stephen E. Runge, wrote of the varied approaches to discourse analysis demonstrated from chapter to chapter: “Some succeed more than others.” I heartily agree. Some of the contributions are not as clear as they could be in presenting a clear argument or distinct structure for some of the NT books. I found some others not especially helpful. But I find the chapters on the following NT books particularly strong and insightful: Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Romans, Ephesians, Colossians, Hebrews, James, and 1 Peter. I would more quickly recommend Discourse Analysis to someone seeking help with one of those particular books. (And in the interest of full disclosure: I have not yet finished reading the book. I’ve made it through 1 Peter and believe that has given me enough exposure to write an accurate review. As I finish the remaining chapters, I may add to the list in this paragraph.)

You can find Discourse Analysis of the New Testament Writings on Amazon or directly through Fontes Press.

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On the Road to Emmaus

October 16, 2020 By Peter Krol

Luke ends his gospel with a masterpiece of a story that has captured our imaginations for millennia. And the story is so vivid and well-told that, if we’re not careful, its artistry can easily distract us from its chief message. I imagine you’ve heard speculation about whether the “other disciple” is Cleopas’s wife. And perhaps you’ve wished to be part of the greatest Bible study of all time on that 6-mile walk. Or maybe you’ve wondered how Jesus could simply vanish into thin air. And maybe you’ve been inspired by the eagerness of the two disciples to return to Jerusalem “that same hour,” after their long walk home on that long day.

These matters are all worth considering, and they are rightly in the corporate consciousness of those who read this story today. But allow me to model how a few key principles will help us to penetrate the outer edges of the story to better grasp its main point. (In what follows, I seek to apply the principles of narrative plot structure explained in this post.)

Plot Structure

With even an elementary grasp on how plot structure works, you know to look for the introduction of conflict. Everything before that conflict is simply setting the scene.

So we read, beginning at Luke 24:13, and we’re told of “two of them” going to Emmaus, about 7 miles from Jerusalem. They were talking about everything that had happened. While they were talking, Jesus himself draws near and goes with them. None of this is tense. There is no conflict yet, so all these details provide the setting for what is about to transpire.

Then Luke goes out of his way to tell us, “But their eyes were kept from recognizing him” (Luke 24:16). Now the story finally feels tense. Now there is a sense of uncertainty, of conflict between what is happening and what they perceive is happening.

In particular, we see a conflict between the disciples and their perceptions (your English teacher may have called this “man vs. himself”). The issue this story wants to address is: Can they recognize Jesus? And if so, how?

Now don’t get distracted. I can observe as well as you can that the passive voice is used: “their eyes were kept…” But don’t let that distract you into speculation on divine sovereignty vs. free will, nor into questions about why God would prevent them from recognizing Jesus. Much of the purpose of the passive voice is to avoid such matters entirely. Narrators typically use passive voice when they wish to direct your attention away from the person doing the action. They want you to gaze instead simply at what is happening to the object(s) of the action.

Skimming through the story for now, we should look for the climax. Where is the conflict (they can’t recognize Jesus) reversed? Luke does all the heavy lifting for us here, making it as clear as possible: “And their eyes were opened, and they recognized him” (Luke 24:31).

So everything between verses 16 and 31 serves as “rising action.” The events recounted here are heightening the tension and magnifying the conflict. And the material in verses 32-35 provide the resolution (32-34) and new setting (35). Remember, our opening setting involved two of them walking away from Jerusalem discussing the events surrounding Jesus’ resurrection. On account of the conflict, rising action, and climax, we have reached a new state of affairs where these two folks are no longer asking and wondering, but telling of what happened. And more particularly, they can proclaim “how he was known to them in the breaking of the bread” (Luke 24:35).

Approaching the Main Point

So our simple identification of conflict and climax strongly suggests that Luke’s main point in this episode has something to do with recognizing the risen Jesus. Of course, that’s not quite enough to go on just yet (it’s only a short phrase and not a truth proposition that ought to be believed or obeyed). But it sets us in the right direction.

We can look within the story’s action to discover that the testimony of the Hebrew Scripture plays a major role in such recognition. And there is something more going on than simply identifying Jesus by name in a lineup (bare “recognition” of Jesus’ name or face). Luke is communicating quite profoundly that they failed to recognize resurrection as being fundamental to the person and work of the Messiah. And this was not a problem of education but a problem of faith and of biblical interpretation (Luke 24:25-26).

That’s as far as I’ll go for now. I don’t want to simply tell you what I think the main point is. That would defeat the purpose of trying to help you figure it out for yourself.

But I trust my reflections here have done enough to show you that their eyes, while on the text, had been focused in all the wrong places. Perhaps we ought to avoid the same error when we study these Scriptures ourselves.

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