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Not Every Interesting Detail is Important

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anonymous (2011), public domain

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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Does Genesis Have Two Creation Accounts?

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How are Genesis 1 and Genesis 2 related? Benjamin Shaw states the issue as follows:

One often hears the idea that there are two creation accounts in Genesis 1–2, almost as if it were intuitively obvious. There are certainly differences between Genesis 1 and Genesis 2. But the question is whether we have here two separate accounts of creation that have been joined together by some much later editor, or whether we have one unified account with different emphases. The former view came from the skeptical scholarship that arose from the Enlightenment. The latter has, for millennia, been the view of the church.

He goes on to briefly defend the latter “traditional” view. What do you think? Does he make a persuasive case? Does he show it from the text?

Regardless of whether you think Genesis presents one creation account or two, can you do more than simply assert your position? Can you demonstrate from the text itself that your conclusion is how the original author intended the text to be read?

Check it out!

When a Name Goes Missing in the Bible

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Pierre Bamin (2021), public domain

Observation is the first step in any good Bible study practice. And in most passages, there is a lot to observe!

Under the umbrella of observation, we naturally think about noticing what is present in the text. But sometimes, we also need to notice what is absent. The key to interpreting a section of Genesis 21 turns on just such an observation.

Ishmael is Sent Away

When Isaac was weaned, his parents threw a huge party to celebrate this milestone (Genesis 21:8). During the party, Ishmael laughed at Isaac, and this angered Sarah so much that she told Abraham to get rid of Ishmael and his mother, Hagar (Genesis 21:10). God agreed with Sarah, so Abraham sent them away (Genesis 21:12–14).

When their meager food and water ran out, Hagar prepared for her son’s death and cried out to the Lord (Genesis 21:15–16). God heard Ishmael’s cries and opened Hagar’s eyes to a nearby well (Genesis 21:17–19). God was with Ishmael as he grew up (Genesis 21:20).

This story is straightforward, right?

Something is Missing

As we continue to remind our readers, context matters. Why does this story immediately follow the glorious account of the long-awaited birth of Isaac (Genesis 21:1–7)? How does the story’s placement in the text aid our interpretation?

I didn’t understand this connection until I landed on an observation. In these fourteen verses (Genesis 21:8–21), something important is missing.

Ishmael’s name doesn’t appear at all.

In fact, Moses (the author) seems to go out of his way to avoid writing Ishmael’s name. Moses refers to “the boy” (6 times), “the child” (3 times), “the son of Hagar” (or a close variant, 4 times), and “his son” (once). This whole section of Scripture is centered on Ishmael, and Moses steadfastly refuses to include his name. Why is this the case?

Making Way for Isaac

From earlier in Genesis, we know that Abraham was a man who liked to protect himself and hedge his bets. He repeatedly tried to pass Sarah off as his sister (Genesis 12:10–20, 20:1–18). He fathered Ishmael with Sarah’s servant because he couldn’t see how God would otherwise keep his promise (Genesis 16:1–4).

Once Isaac was born, he was to become the focus of the story. Had Ishmael stayed around, there would not only (likely) be sustained conflict between him and Isaac, but it would have given Abraham a way to doubt and wonder. If anything were to happen to Isaac, I still have Ishmael right here.

Moses uses the names in the text to help us understand. The names for Abraham, Sarah, and Hagar all show up in this passage, so Moses is not opposed to names in general. But he won’t call Ishmael by his name. Moses wants his readers to see that Ishmael is moving off stage. Ishmael is no longer a main character. The covenant spotlight is now on Isaac.

Learning to Notice

Someone new to Bible study might be thinking, It’s hard enough to observe everything that’s there in the text, and now I’m supposed to notice all of the things that aren’t there?! Yes and no.

It would be impossible to notice everything missing from a passage of Scripture. That’s ambiguous and aimless. But we should notice anomalies—things that are unusual or out of place. Anything that sticks out as abnormal.

Moses used names, repeatedly, for all of the characters in this story except one. That should make us sit up and take notice. In observation we gather the fuel we need for the fire of interpretation, and observing odd insertions or omissions is no exception.

Note: After writing this article I remembered that Peter mentioned this observation in one of our foundational articles on observation. I heartily recommend that article, but I came to this thought independently this week as my church is working through Genesis in Sunday school.

Facts vs. Implications in Commentaries

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My eighth commandment for commentary usage is:

You shall distinguish, in the commentaries, between evidence-based observations of the text (such as Hebrew or Greek syntax or wordplay, historical context, or comparative ancient near eastern literature) and reasoned interpretations of the text. You shall remain aware that the first category is more likely to contain factual data that must be accounted for, and the second category is more likely to contain opinions to be weighed and considered alongside alternatives.

My purpose here is simply to discern between differing types of information, which ought to provoke different responses as we make use of commentaries. Thereby, a commentary is something like a pie a la mode, where the pie and the ice cream dwell in symbiotic union to make a dessert worthy of one’s salivary attention. A single act of consumption yields a combination of treasures and delights.

Photo by Laura Seaman on Unsplash

The Objectivity of Observation

When a commentary observes the text, the author is stating things that are objectively verifiable. Observation could perhaps be considered the science of Bible study.

For example:

  • The tenses of verbs.
  • Repetitions and word play.
  • Comparisons and contrasts.
  • Grammar and syntax.
  • Pronouns and antecedents.
  • The historical setting and background of the author and audience (when knowable).
  • Cultural context of the characters or events described in the text.

Such things are nearly always binary: True or false, correct or incorrect. If a verb occurs in the past tense (or “aorist,” if the commentator references the Greek New Testament), it is not a present or future tense. Whether a word is repeated ought not be up for debate but can be objectively perceived and verified. And commentaries can be especially helpful for pointing out such things as tenses, repetitions, and syntax that are less clear in English translation.

Commentaries are also especially helpful for pointing out historical and cultural artifacts that most people today might not be aware of when they read a text. Why are the Pharisees so bothered by Jesus healing people on the sabbath (and what is a “sabbath,” anyway?)? Why does Jesus climb onto a boat to preach? What is a mina? Why is it that, whenever people head south to Jerusalem, the text says they are going up to the city?

In addition, commentaries may draw attention to quotations or allusions to prior texts (such as New Testament texts referring to Old Testament texts, though it also happens within the Old Testament itself as well) that are easy to miss without being steeped in the breadth of Scripture yourself. So when a commentator is observing something, rejoice and be glad for the assistance provided to your visual impairment.

The Debatability of Interpretation

By contrasting observation’s “objectivity” with interpretation’s “debatability,” I am not suggesting that interpretation is merely subjective or relative. No, I’m only distinguishing between the truth of facts and the truth of facts’ implications. For example, you cannot credibly dispute the claim that my name is Peter. But you can credibly dispute whether I am a trustworthy person. The first thing is akin to Bible observation; the second is akin to Bible interpretation.

When commentaries move beyond what the text says and enter the realm of what the text means, they are moving from the facts to the facts’ implications. We ought to recognize the difference, because facts that are truly facts ought to be received as facts. And interpretations ought not to be received as facts. Interpretations could be wrong. Or they could be improved. Or they might be slightly off-center and require adjustment.

And remember that my fourth commandment was to never read only one commentary. By reading two or more, you will glimpse the manifold interpretive debates among scholars regarding the best way to interpret a text. Let each commentator make their best argument, and let those debates drive you back into the text to make up your own mind.

Conclusion

At this blog we want to help you learn to study the Bible. That means learning how to observe, interpret, and apply. As you learn this method, you will also learn to discern how others, such as commentators, use the method. This enables you to distinguish between the commentators’ observations, which—when accurate—ought to be received as facts, and the commentators’ interpretations, which are better when weighed and considered alongside alternatives.

In short, reading commentaries is another way to learn how to think. How to improve your own observation, interpretation, and application. Don’t miss out on that benefit by reading commentaries uncritically. It would be like skipping dessert when the pie is offered a la mode.

Blessed are Those Who Mourn

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Andrew Kerr’s reflections on Psalm 90 are well worth considering.

For the Generation who fell in sand, before Israel reached the Promised Land, there could be no escape – as Adam found out, there is no such thing as truly-secret sins with God. All is laid bare before the eyes of Him to whom we must give account.

For the Generation who fell by sword, the experience of Jews in Exile was the same – chastened by wrath both now unite, by the Spirit of Christ, to break with their guilt and come back home to God, their true and timeless Dwelling Place.

Kerr observes the basic structure of the poem and shows us how to apply a psalm both individually and corporately. Check it out!

How Should We Handle the Unnamed in Scripture?

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Tim Mossholder (2019), public domain

Names and titles are important in the Bible. Paying attention to these details is a key step during the observation stage of Bible study.

Adam named his wife “Eve” because “she was the mother of all the living” (Genesis 3:20). As God made his covenant with Abram, he changed his name to Abraham, “for I have made you the father of a multitude of nations” (Genesis 17:5). The angel told Joseph in a dream that his son should be named Jesus, “for he will save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21). In these examples we have an explanation for each name, but there are scores of other named figures in the Bible where the name sheds light on some part of their story.

But, as you may have noticed, not every character in the Bible has a name.

If names are so important, why does it seem like some names in the Bible are missing? And, practically, how should we approach passages in which unnamed characters play a key role?

Let’s take a look at two examples.

The Redeemer in Ruth

My pastor just finished preaching through the book of Ruth, so we were confronted by the unnamed redeemer in chapters 3 and 4. Ruth and Naomi are aware that Boaz is a redeemer for Elimelech, Naomi’s deceased husband. However, there is a closer redeemer—a closer relative—who should receive the option to redeem Elimelech’s land and family name before Boaz is given the opportunity. (See Ruth 3:9–13; 4:1–6.)

For a character that spends so much time on the page, it seems strange that this redeemer isn’t named. And yet, this seems like an intentional choice by the author. Boaz tells this relative that when he serves as a redeemer for Elimelech, he will acquire Ruth, and any children he has with Ruth will bear Elimelech’s name (Ruth 4:5). This man refuses, saying he does not want to “impair [his] own inheritance” (Ruth 4:6).

This closer redeemer refused to lay down his concerns for another. He wanted to preserve his own name and inheritance. So, the author of Ruth serves up some poetic justice by omitting his name from the Biblical record. (This same reasoning may lie behind the fact that we know so few of the names of those building a tower in Babel in Genesis 11.)

The Believing Criminal

While not occupying as much of the biblical story as the reluctant redeemer in Ruth, some of the people who played important roles at the crucifixion are also unnamed.

Jesus was crucified between two criminals. One criminal mocked Jesus, but the other showed evidence of faith in Jesus as the king who could save. Jesus responded, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:43). Wouldn’t it be nice to have the name of this believing criminal?

However, Luke gives us all the information we need about this man: He is a convicted criminal who confesses Jesus. Luke’s Gospel is full of Jesus extending invitations to the poor and the forgotten, to those outside the boundaries of polite Jewish society. The religious leaders put Jesus to death, and the last person to trust Jesus before he dies is a condemned criminal. We don’t need his name, because Luke has made his point: Jesus is the king and savior of the world, welcoming all who believe.

Why Are Some Unnamed?

When a character in the Bible is unnamed, one of two things is true. That name is either unknown by the biblical author or withheld from us. But since God is sovereign over the writing and preservation of his word, we can be confident that we are not lacking anything we need.

Those who are named in the Bible, are named for a reason. And those who are unnamed in the Bible, are unnamed for a reason. Though we may be missing their names, we often still know the most important things about them—their actions, their characteristics, or their roles. The biblical authors use these details instead of names to contribute to their main point in writing.

When we lack a name in Scripture, we shouldn’t react with frustration, grumbling, or speculation. It’s a good excuse to sharpen our observation skills as we try to understand how the biblical author is using this character in the story.

Arise, My love, My Beautiful One, and Come Away

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I am very grateful to the Lord for the rich diversity of literature contained within the Bible. Not only do we have the narratives of Israel’s history and Jesus’ ministry, or the discourses of the law and letters, but we also have the wildly foreign yet lovely verse of the prophets and poets. Let me pull back the curtain for you on my own process for Bible study.

Right now, I’m studying Song of Songs 2:8-3:5 and trying to find my way. What clues can I find to show me how this text is organized, so I can follow its train of thought?

First, I notice the repetition of the label “my beloved,” from the woman regarding her man (Song 2:8, 9, 10, 16, 17). They are somewhat spaced out and appear likely to trigger a new thought or idea.

Second, I observe that the man never speaks in this passage as an independent character (as he does before and after this in the book). Instead, what we have is the woman’s report of what he says (Song 2:10: “My beloved speaks and says to me…”). Or is this more about what she wants him to say? She appears to be dreaming in Song 3:1-4 (especially see Song 3:1); could Song 2:8-17 be something like a daydream?

Photo by Scott Broome on Unsplash

Third, though Song 2:10-15 is all one speech by the man (at least according to the ESV editors; the CSB suggests that the man’s speech ends with verse 14), I observe the verbatim repetition of “Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away” (Song 2:10, 13). That repeated phrase wraps verses 10-13 like bookends, suggesting that Song 2:14-15 contain a second stanza within his speech.

Fourth, the poem reaches a clear climax in Song 3:5, when she puts the daughters of Jerusalem under oath not to stir up love.

All of this yields the following group of stanzas:

  • 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

So much for an observational outline of the poem. What about an interpretive outline? What is the point of each stanza, and how does the train of thought move from one stanza to the next?

That will require more work, so I’m back at it. At least I have some handles on the text to guide my questions and answers.

10 Truths About the Holy Spirit from Romans 8

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Mateus Campos Felipe (2019), public domain

Romans 8 is a favorite chapter of the Bible among Christians, and for good reason. It is encouraging, memorable, and oh-so-quotable.

But because it is so beloved, it is easy to lose the main ideas of the chapter among the glorious promises. To be specific, what would you say Romans 8 is all about?

The Frequency of the Spirit

When we start to observe the text of Romans 8, one phrase jumps out. The Holy Spirit is all over this chapter!

A quick count reveals that the word “spirit” appears 22 times in Romans 8. This is the most that word appears in any chapter of the English Bible! (I made these counts and comparisons using the ESV.) This was unexpected for me, because I don’t often see people reach for this chapter to teach about the Holy Spirit.

Is the Holy Spirit the main subject of Romans 8? In his post on Romans 8:28, Peter provided an outline of much of this chapter, so I won’t repeat it here. Even if the Spirit is not at the center of this chapter, he is indispensable to its main ideas.

What Can We Learn About the Spirit?

I thought it might be instructive to exercise our observation and interpretation muscles in a brief look at Romans 8. While focusing mostly on the occurrences of the word “Spirit” in this chapter, I’ll list some truths that are relatively straightforward from the text.

  1. The Spirit is the “Spirit of life.” In contrast to the “law of sin and death,” which condemns, the Spirit’s law sets us “free in Christ Jesus” (Rom 8:2).
  2. The Spirit is opposed to “the flesh.” Christians walk according to the Spirit, not the flesh. They live according to the Spirit and set their minds on the things of the Spirit instead of living according to or setting their minds on the things of the flesh. The flesh brings death, but the Spirit brings “life and peace” (Rom 8:4–6).
  3. Those with the Spirit belong to God. Those with the Spirit are “in the Spirit.” Without the Spirit of Christ you do not belong to God. Having the “Spirit of Christ” and having Christ in you appear to be the same thing (Rom 8:9–10).
  4. Those with the Spirit will rise from the dead. If you have the Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead, that same Spirit will give you the same result (Rom 8:11).
  5. We need the Spirit to “put to death the deeds of the body.” The parallel structure of Romans 8:13 also implies that putting deeds to death by the Spirit is what it means to live according to the Spirit.
  6. All who are led by God’s Spirit are God’s children (Rom 8:14). Part of what it means to have God’s Spirit (Rom 8:9) is to be led by God’s Spirit.
  7. The Spirit we have received is the “Spirit of adoption.” This Spirit is contrasted with a spirit of slavery which leads to fear; the Spirit of adoption produces affectionate cries (“Abba!”) to our Father (Rom 8:15).
  8. The Spirit testifies that we are God’s children. The Spirit “bears witness” along with our spirits that we are children of God. And as children, we are “heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ” (Rom 8:16–17).
  9. We have the first fruits of the Spirit. Having the Spirit in this way causes us to groan inwardly along with the creation, as we await our adoption as children of God (Rom 8:23).
  10. The Spirit intercedes for us. In our weakness, we don’t know how to pray as we should. But the Spirit helps us, praying with groans that are too deep for words. Because the Father knows the mind of the Spirit, he receives what is in our hearts (Rom 8:26–27).

Observation Leading to Understanding

Observation is necessary but not sufficient for understanding the Bible. It is a means, not an end. Observing the Bible is like gathering sticks for a fire: Without the wood, there’s nothing to burn; but the sticks themselves produce neither heat nor light.

But these observations and interpretations about the Holy Spirit help us toward the main point of Romans 8. We see how the Spirit marks and indwells God’s people, identifying them as his beloved children. This relationship with God produces suffering with our fellow heir (Jesus), but glory with him as well.

Observation is a Means, Not an End

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When it comes to OIA Bible study, observation is the method’s beginning, not the method’s end. I find people can often get distracted from this point in one of two ways.

Image by F. Muhammad from Pixabay

Distraction #1: Ending with Observation

When you develop the skills of mature observation, you can start to feel like a superhero. You’ll start seeing things the people around you don’t take time to see. You learn to identify parts of speech, sentence structure, and train of thought. Skilled observation can be quite thrilling, and it tends to receive praise. This is a good thing, because careful observation of God’s word ought to be something people find praiseworthy.

But the danger is that the thrill and the praise become your food and drink. When you train your senses to observe the Scriptures closely, you will probably start finding things that nobody in your immediate circle has found before. And you can quickly form an addiction to the dopamine released in the process.

This may result in doing even more observation, getting better and better at it. People start looking to you for insight, and they ask you for the final word on any questions they have. Sometimes this delight in observation can provide an escape from the painful labor of interpretation, or the uncomfortable humility required for application. You can also avoid having to draw conclusions about anything the text might mean, or any ways it may be speaking into your culture or community, by keeping your sights trained simply on what it says.

Perhaps this distraction resonates with your own proclivity. Or maybe your struggle goes in a different direction.

Distraction #2: Failing to Make Use of Observation as a Means

Maybe you are more tempted to skip observation to get to the good stuff faster. Your understanding of “the good stuff” could be focused on either interpretation (we have to get our doctrine in order, after all) or application (what good are we if we are not practical, right?). Either way, you try not to get bogged down by grammatical minutiae or pesky questions about big picture and train of thought.

Maybe you come to the Bible under the expectation that it must move you to some specific and inspiring action steps right here and now. Or maybe you teach others, and you feel you have failed if they don’t deliver something mind-blowing and practical quickly enough. Maybe you’ve trained yourself to spend more time looking up cross-references than discovering the structure and climax or chief conclusion of the text at hand. Maybe you’ve presumed that good teachers should aspire to preach or teach 300 sermons/sessions on Romans, and so you’re constantly bouncing away from your abbreviated text in order to fill the air space with fully fleshed-out theological or ethical reflections.

Conclusion

The answer to the second distraction is to realize (and believe in your bones) that without observation, you cannot interpret or apply. At least, not in alignment with the will of God recorded in Scripture. Observation lays the foundation for all else. If your observation is poor, your interpretation won’t be any better, and your application will fall to the ground. Any power your conclusions or instructions might have comes more from your personal persuasiveness or charisma than from the Spirit of God.

The answer to the first distraction is to realize (and believe in your bones) that your purpose in Bible study is not to impress people or thrill yourself. Your purpose is to help people—beginning with yourself—know God through his Son Jesus Christ and be transformed into the image of Christ by the Spirit who inspired this text. Observation lays the foundation for all else. If observation is your end game, it’s like living your spiritual life on a cement slab in a half-acre plot, without erecting the rest of the house. You’re ready for a tempest to rise against you, but the wifi doesn’t really work.

With trained and habitual observation, we plug into the power of God found in Scripture. We’re thereby locked and loaded for productive interpretation and application to help lead people to their Creator and King.

What Should We Make of Paul’s Shipwreck Narrative?

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When our church’s team of preachers decided to preach through Acts, I knew chapter 27 would be a doozy (notice how I cleverly ignored this chapter in my interpretive overview of Acts). I have always been confused by this chapter and its role within the book, and though I’m sure compelling sermons have been preached on this text, I have yet to hear one of them. I’m used to hearing otherwise fantastic preachers punt on this chapter, in the name of practicality, to talk about “weathering the storms of our spiritual lives.” So the extraordinarily detailed travelogue of Acts 27 is reduced to a parable and a few minor observations (typically surrounding verses 23-25) seeking to inspire us toward deeper trust in Christ—a wonderful thing to be inspired toward, of course!

Therefore, since I’m in charge of managing our sermon schedule, I made sure to assign Acts 27 to someone else. Pro tip: When you don’t know what to do with a text, require a friend or colleague to deal with it instead. This resulted in one of the most exciting “aha!” moments in my Bible study this year.

Photo by Olga Tsai on Unsplash

A Key Structural Observation

The sucker fortunate fellow to receive the assignment was a good man and marvelous student of the word named Tom Hallman. Tom eagerly set himself to observe the text inside and out, to give him the raw materials for a series of interpretive questions. Our practice is that our team of preachers gives feedback on every sermon before it is preached. We collaborate in two phases: the study of the passage and the delivery of the sermon. So in that first phase, Tom regularly laid before us the fruit of his study for comment and evaluation.

And Tom made a key structural observation that shed tremendous light on the passage for me. In following the narrative’s plot, Tom observed that the main conflict centers on the centurion’s failure to listen to Paul’s counsel in Acts 27:11. This led Tom to recognize a few arcs within the plot:

  • Acts 27:9-20: Paul speaks, and the centurion pays more attention to others. The result is that all hope of being saved is abandoned.
  • Acts 27:21-44: Paul speaks, and the Romans start listening to him. The result is that all are brought safely to land.

These observations of the primary narrative tension and its accompanying resolution gave us hope that we could sift through the flood of details to discern the author’s main point in this chapter.

Further Dialogue

As we discussed it further and kept staring at the text to observe it more closely, we eventually realized that there were not two arcs but three. Paul actually makes three sizable speeches (Acts 27:10, 21-26, 33-34). He also speaks in Acts 27:31, but that briefer statement does not have the same appearance of introducing a new scene. It is a response to what’s happening in the moment (Acts 27:30).

So we’ve actually got three main speeches from Paul. Do we correspondingly have a clear resolution with each one, to make three complete arcs? This question drove us back into the text.

And sure enough, there it was. So plain and obvious we couldn’t believe we had missed it or ever believed this passage to be opaque to us.

  • Acts 27:9-20: Paul speaks, and the centurion pays more attention to others. The result is that all hope of being saved is abandoned.
  • Acts 27:21-32: Paul speaks, and no-one immediately rejects him. But eventually the soldiers heed him. (The centurion and soldiers both hear Paul’s words in Acts 27:31, but only the soldiers are mentioned as acting on them in Acts 27:32.) There is no immediate “salvation,” but only a sense of “let’s wait and see; we hope this works.”
  • Acts 27:33-44: Paul speaks, and all are encouraged and choose to eat (Acts 27:36). The result is that the centurion has heard enough, and he now wishes to save Paul (Acts 27:43). “And so it was that all were brought safely to land” (Acts 27:44).

These three arcs showed us that the primary tension revolves around whether the Roman centurion (prominent enough to be named in the text—Acts 27:1,3) will listen to Paul or not. And in particular: Will he listen to Paul with respect to salvation? This salvation goes in two directions: Paul wants to save the centurion—along with everyone else on the ship; the centurion, in the end, wishes to save Paul.

In the first arc, Julius will not listen to Paul, and all hope is lost. In the second arc, the soldiers listen to Paul, and it is as though the centurion is watching and deliberating before rendering judgment on this most unusual prisoner. In the third arc, the centurion fully listens to Paul and doesn’t want him to die.

Conclusions About the Text

I’m not weirded out by this chapter any more. It fits cleanly within the book’s main idea that the world’s salvation cannot be stopped. It also masterfully advances Luke’s primary agenda to petition for Paul’s exoneration before Caesar. “Julius was uncertain at first, and unwilling to listen to Paul. But he has been convinced that this Paul is who he says he is, and he refuses to let anyone execute him. Caesar: Why wouldn’t you do the same?”

And not only that, but Acts 27 also serves Luke’s secondary purpose to lead all of Abraham’s children to salvation through the Savior, who is Christ the Lord. “Julius was uncertain at first, and unwilling to listen to Paul. But many have been convinced that this Jesus, whom Paul preaches, is who he says he is. Don’t just stand there watching others listen and find rescue. Noble reader: Why wouldn’t you do the same?”

Conclusions About Our Study Methods

If Luke can have two simultaneous purposes in mind, so can I. While I wanted to help you observe and interpret Acts 27 along with me, I also wanted you to see how I got there. And the events that took place this past week in my dialogues with Tom highlight a few conclusions. First, Bible study needs to be a community project. Second, structure conveys meaning. And third, the most important tool for observing the structure of a narrative episode is plot structure.