Observation | Knowable Word

Know Your Literary Devices

December 16, 2022 By Peter Krol

Though your top priority when studying the Bible is to grasp the author’s main point, you will do well to develop a few skills to help you get there. One such skill is the ability to spot various literary devices. You don’t need to memorize a lengthy list of such devices, as long as you can recognize them when you see them. It’s sort of like being the father of a large number of children. Sometimes you mix up the names, but you can always point them out in a crowd when necessary.

Word Devices

Some literary devices have to do with the use of words. Identifying key words can help you grasp the author’s main point.

Repetition is perhaps the easiest device to observe. You would do well to begin any study by simply looking for, counting, and highlighting repeated words. For example, Genesis 14 repeats the word “king” more than 28 times, giving that word tremendous prominence in the author’s argument.
Continuity is similar to repetition, except it refers to repeated synonyms, thoughts, or ideas. So if a particular concept is repeated in a passage, even without repeating the identical word, it is worth taking note of. For example, Psalm 145 contains continuity of the ideas of “praise” for God’s “works,” even though the poem uses a variety of words (such as “bless,” “thanks,” etc.) to communicate those ideas.
Inclusio is a particular kind of continuity, where the same word, phrase, or idea is repeated at the beginning and end of a passage. In addition to marking structural boundaries, an inclusio often highlights the author’s thesis. For example, Psalm 8 begins and ends with “O Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth,” showing that the poem’s main idea has something to do with how God’s majesty is made visible on earth.

Logic Devices

Some literary devices reveal a text’s logic, which will help you to grasp the argument (main point) an author is making.

Comparison is when two or more things are shown to be similar to one another. For example, in 2 Timothy 2:3-6, Timothy on mission is compared to a soldier, an athlete, and a farmer. By figuring out what the points of comparison are, you’ll better understand why Paul gives the instructions of verses 1-2.
Contrast is when two or more things are shown to be different from one another. For example, Ephesians 2:1-3 describes what “you were,” and Eph 2:4-6 contrasts it with a big “but God.” Now, you still need to get to the “so that” in Eph 2:7 in order to grasp the main point, but the contrasting sections of 1-3 and 4-6 make the main idea of v.7 really shine.
Climax is when a text builds up to a high point. In narrative, “climax” specifically refers to part of the plot, near the end of the story, where the tension reaches its high point before being resolved (for example, Mark 2:10 is the climax of Mark 2:1-12). In other text types, a climax occurs when an author builds his argument up to a high point or fever pitch. For example, the argument of Romans 8 builds to the climax of Rom 8:38-39.
Causation is when a passage moves from cause to effect. For example, God’s condemning sin in the flesh by sending his own Son (Rom 8:3) is the cause of the righteous requirement of the law being fulfilled in us (Rom 8:4).
Substantiation is when a passage moves from effect to cause. For example, lack of condemnation (Rom 8:1) is an effect substantiated by the fact that the Spirit has set you free from the law of sin and death (Rom 8:2).

Structure Devices

Some literary devices reveal a text’s structure, which enables you to grasp the organization of the material and identify the sentence or section that contains the author’s overall argument or main point.

Preparation or Introduction provides setting or background for the events or ideas that will be presented. For example, 1 Samuel 3:1-3 contains not the passage’s main point but the necessary background information (in this case, the story’s setting) for the main point to make sense. Drawing a major principle of theology or application from that setting would not be wise.
Refrain is the regular repetition of a line or phrase in poetry to mark of sections. For example, the refrain of “Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved” divides Psalm 80 into three sections (Ps 80:1-3, 4-7, 8-19).
Explanation or Analysis presents an idea or event followed by its interpretation. For example, Jesus tells a parable in Mark 4:3-8 and then explains it in Mark 4:14-20. This interpretation is pretty important for understanding any parable (Mark 4:13), which subverts the conventional wisdom that parables must have only one point (since Jesus makes many points in his explanation of this parable!).
Summarization is a clear statement in the text that identifies the main point or intended takeaway. In these cases, we do not have to do much “digging” into the mysteries of the text to grasp the main point; the author comes right out and says it! We do well to pay attention. For example, Hebrews 8:1 summarizes the main idea of chapters 7 and 8. For another example, “Thus Esau despised his birthright” in Gen 25:34 summarizes the scene in Gen 25:29-34. (The author clearly and explicitly blames Esau for this incident; why do so many interpreters ignore this summarization and keep the focus of blame on Jacob? See also Heb 12:16.)

Conclusion

This list doesn’t cover every possible literary device employed by biblical authors, but it contains what I have found to be the most common and directly useful ones when observing a passage. Again, you don’t need to memorize the list, but you should be able to spot these “children” in a sea of words when you buckle down to observe the text. It’s not sufficient to propose a main point for your passage based on what simply feels right. You should be able to defend that proposed main point from the text itself—primarily by enumerating the literary devices that directed you toward your main point.

Grammar Crash Course: Clauses

December 2, 2022 By Peter Krol

What makes this paragraph so strange?

Unsteadily wobbling toward me, when my son’s arms stretch out. In my heart of hearts like a flame. Speaking my name—”Papa”—for the first time, but sounding like too many margaritas: “Baba.” Joy to explode in here. Happiness over there. Resounding exultation on all sides. Not a toddler but a teenager-in-training. Flos floridus.

If I treated it like a poem and gave each unit of thought a separate line, there would be no big deal. You could probably follow along.

But as a standard prose paragraph, it doesn’t quite work. Despite hints of comprehensibility, there remains something sorely lacking. The paragraph’s citizens include not a single independent clause.

Distinguishing Dependency

In English, there are two main types of clause: independent and dependent.

Independent clauses contain a complete thought that could function as a complete sentence.
Dependent clauses don’t contain a complete thought and can’t function as a complete sentence.

In the paragraph above, “unsteadily wobbling toward me” is not a complete thought because it has no subject, and -ing verbs cannot stand on their own as main verbs. To make the clause independent, I could add to it (He is unsteadily wobbling toward me) or revise it (He unsteadily wobbles toward me).

The grammatical rules and explanation of dependency can get far more complex than this, but the most important thing to know is this idea of a “complete” thought. Take any phrase or clause and say it out loud. Ask yourself: Could this stand by itself in a conversation? If so, it’s probably an independent clause. If not, it’s probably a dependent clause.

“When my son’s arms stretch out.” That could not stand alone; it must be dependent. “My sons arms stretch out”—that minor omission transforms the dependent clause into an independent one.

Why It Matters

Distinguishing dependent clauses from independent clauses may seem like an obscure and academic thing to do. Not the most thrilling way to occupy one’s morning. But this is perhaps the most important grammatical skill to master for your Bible study to go anywhere. Especially when you study epistles.

One of the greatest challenges of studying an epistle is that the sentences are often so loooooooong. We must have a way to identify which part of the sentence carries the most weight. Or how the parts relate to one another. Without that skill, all we’ve got is gut instinct. So we just camp out on a single word or phrase that strikes our fancy, and we reflect ponderously on the deep things of the universe contained in that word or phrase. And the apostles’ harps pop a string every time someone on earth reads their magnificent works of literature in such a demeaning manner.

When facing those long sentences, the best thing you can do is label the clauses as either independent or dependent. Then, set aside all the dependent clauses for a time to focus your attention on the independent clauses. The dependent clauses are dependent because they are depending on something. That something is going to be the more important part of the sentence. In other words, the independent clauses in a sentence contain the main idea(s) of the sentence. The dependent clauses are either window dressing or evidence for those main ideas. So to grasp the main ideas we must recognize the independent clauses.

If you fail to recognize independent clauses, you will fail to grasp the main point of a sentence. If you fail to grasp the main point of a sentence, you’ll fail to grasp the main point of the paragraph. Fail to do that, and… Well, let’s just say you might as well be looking at the Greek original (or if know Greek, let’s say you might as well be looking at an Urdu translation) for all the good it will do you.

Examples

In the ESV, Ephesians 1:3-4 is one long sentence. “Who has blessed us in Christ” and “even as he chose us in him” and “that we should be holy and blameless” are all dependent clauses. None of them carries the sentence’s main idea. “Blessed be the God and Father”—now we’re talking! That’s independent, containing a complete thought. So the main idea of the sentence is that God is blessed. The rest of the sentence expands on that idea and gives it more detail. But let’s make sure not to focus on the hows and whys of what God did to the point of forgetting Paul’s emphasis on who this God is. How blessed he is.

Or take Philippians 4:8. Every clause that starts with “whatever is” is dependent. The independent clause is “brothers…think about these things.” Now it is crucial to understand the nature of those things we ought to think about (true, honorable, etc.). But a word study on “true,” another on “honorable,” and another on “just” will prevent you from interpreting the sentence. Paul’s point is not to define a whole set of virtues. His purpose is to command his people to think about the right set of virtues.

Though it’s not from an epistle, John 3:16 gives another great case study. “That he gave his only Son” and “that whoever believes in him should not perish” are both dependent. The main, independent clause is “God so loved the world.” The dependent clauses explain how God loved the world (he gave his Son) and why God loved the world (so people could not perish but have life). But those ideas support the main idea that God loved the world. If we shift the emphasis from that main clause, we will struggle to make sense of what else Jesus says to Nicodemus in this passage.

In Epistles, Grammar Always Wins

October 28, 2022 By Peter Krol

At a recent Simeon Trust preaching workshop, I was reminded by instructor David Helm that “in epistles, grammar always wins.” By this, he meant that, when we’re studying biblical discourse (as opposed to narrative or poetry), the most important interpretive questions and conclusions must rely heavily on the text’s basic grammar.

A Probing Question

That raises a probing question for students of the Bible: Do you know basic grammar?

For example, perhaps you’re fond of turning to Ephesians 1 when arguing for the doctrine of predestination (since God “chose us” and “predestined us for adoption”). But do you know what Paul’s main point was in Eph 1:3-14? That’s not a difficult question—at least, if you can identify the main clause (the subject and main verb) of that one, lengthy sentence. I encourage you to comment below if you can identify that main clause (and bonus points if you can do it in three words!).

Or perhaps you prefer to argue in favor of the doctrine of universal atonement from 1 Timothy 2:4 (since God “desires all people to be saved”). But what is Paul getting at by divulging God’s salvific desire for all people? A grade-schooler could answer this question, since grammatically, there is nothing obscure about either the main clause of that sentence or the antecedent to which the demonstrative pronoun refers. Gold stars will be given to anyone who comments below with that sentence’s main clause and antecedent.

Parts of Speech

Now maybe my use of technical grammar language (clause? antecedent? huh?) is distracting for you. Do you really have to know all that lingo in order to study the Bible?

No, you don’t have to know the lingo. You can study the Bible just fine without being an expert in the terminology. But you must still understand what the concepts mean. At least, if you would like to study an epistle or speech properly.

In particular, any student of the Bible would be greatly helped by grasping the parts of speech and knowing how they function in sentences. Can you define the following?

noun
pronoun
verb
adjective
adverb
preposition
conjunction

That list doesn’t contain all parts of speech, but they are the ones you frequently bump into. In fact, the previous sentence contains every part of speech on the list; can you find each one?

Syntax

Syntax is the label for how the words in the sentence fit together. And the most important aspects of syntax to master for Bible study are:

Subject and main verb (predicate) = main clause
Distinction between independent clauses and dependent clauses.

Finding and labeling such clauses for what they are, you will grow to interpret the epistles clearly and accurately. In the previous sentence, “finding and labeling such clauses” is dependent; that’s not the sentence’s main idea. The main idea is found in the main (independent) clause: “you will grow.” That’s what I’m after in not only this paragraph but this post!

Where Can I Get Help?

I hope to post a few crash courses in grammar and syntax in future weeks, but I can go only so far. Yet you are not on your own to figure this out. Many resources are available to help English speakers learn basic grammar.

Here is a free, brief online course for those learning English as a second language. Native speakers know these grammar rules intuitively but will profit immensely from learning why the language works the way it does.

The classic Schoolhouse Rock has a series of entertaining shorts, with fantastic music, about grammar and syntax. “The Tale of Mr. Morton”—teaching subjects and predicates—is my family’s favorite.

As for books, here is a list of the best English grammar books on the market. I typically recommend The Elements of Style (#16 on the list), as I’ve read and benefitted from it myself. But #17 (English Grammar to Ace New Testament Greek) also looks promising, even for those who don’t plan to learn Greek. I’m sure anything on the list would be useful, so find whatever looks appealing and give it a try.

In epistles, grammar always wins. So when you study epistles, you won’t want to be on the losing side.

Amazon links are affiliate links. Clicking (verb) them (pronoun, antecedent = “links”) [SUBJECT] will support (verb) [PREDICATE] this (demonstrative pronoun) blog (noun) at (preposition) no (adverb) extra (adjective) cost (noun) to (preposition) yourself (pronoun).

Two Dangers with Observation

October 21, 2022 By Peter Krol

When someone decides they want to study God’s word, the first major skill to learn is that of observation. What does the text say? Good students train themselves to look long and hard at the passage, to take in all that the biblical author offers up.

And as people learn to observe the Bible, I have found them frequently to struggle with two dangers.

The first danger is to skip past observation too quickly. Observation tends not to be the most exciting part of Bible study. What really matters is interpretation; what does it all mean? Or perhaps the greater desire is for the relevance of application. How does all this connect to our lives? Those prone to this danger need to learn the patience of the long, hard look. Have you fully observed the structure? Have you captured the essential grammar? Have you noticed the flow of though and transitions through the passage?

The second danger is to live in observation and never move on to interpretation or application. When someone learns to observe, the skill can be thrilling. It earns the student praise, especially when they can find something in the text that others around them haven’t noticed before. In addition, observation is quite neutral, avoiding the painful labor of interpretation or the uncomfortable humility required for application.

The solution to both dangers is to remember that observation is a means to an end. Observation is not the final goal of Bible study; it is a means for provoking accurate interpretation and targeted application. And observation is not merely academic window dressing; it is the means for productive interpretation. If your observation is poor, your interpretation won’t be much better.

Learn to observe well. And learn when to move from observation to interpretation. Observation provides the foundation for the rest of your study, so it is worth it to hone your instincts for this skill.

Reading Across the Chapter Breaks in 2 Timothy

October 7, 2022 By Peter Krol

Ryan recently encouraged us to read across the chapter breaks in the book of Nehemiah. Those chapter divisions are not original to the text. Sometimes they helpfully follow the literary divisions, but sometimes they do not.

Here is another example from the New Testament, in 2 Timothy. Reading across the chapter break helps us to avoid speculative (and thereby incorrect) interpretation.

Timothy’s Vessels

In 2 Tim 2:20, Paul introduces the metaphor of a great house with a variety of vessels: some for honorable use, some for dishonorable. Much could be said about the metaphor, its role in Paul’s argument, and its connection to Numbers 16, which Paul alludes to right before in 2 Tim 2:19. For now, I would like to highlight only that the metaphor involves a contrast between honorable vessels and dishonorable ones. A contrast between those that are useless and those who are ready for “every good work” (2 Tim 2:21).

The next paragraph describes what Timothy ought to cleanse himself from, in order for his conduct to be honorable and useful to his master. And though the chapter ends there, the thought continues right into chapter 3, where useless and dishonorable influencers are described. Paul then returns to the topic of Timothy’s usefulness as a minister (“complete, equipped for every good work” – 2 Tim 3:17).

So the metaphor introduced in 2 Tim 2:20-21 governs this entire section of the letter.

A great house has both honorable vessels (ready for every good work) and dishonorable ones – 2 Tim 2:20-21
Timothy is to cleanse himself that he might serve his master as an honorable vessel – 2 Tim 2:22-26
Understand that dishonorable vessels will be present in the churches – 2 Tim 3:1-9
You, however, continue on you honorable path, equipped for every good work – 2 Tim 3:10-17

If I were leading a small group or teaching the passage, I might still separate 2 Tim 3:10-17 as a unit. But I would be sure to keep all of 2 Tim 2:20-3:9 together lest we lose the explicit contrast Paul develops.

Conclusion

Please make good use of the chapter divisions in your Bible. Often they are quite useful! But be alert that times of difficulty will come, when those chapter division will hinder your understanding rather than help it. The solution is to observe well and make sure you follow the author’s train of thought. Sensitivity to literary markers and transitions will serve you well.

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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Does Genesis Have Two Creation Accounts?

July 27, 2022 By Peter Krol

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

July 4, 2022 By Ryan Higginbottom

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

June 17, 2022 By Peter Krol

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.

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

June 15, 2022 By Peter Krol

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!

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