Structure | Knowable Word

The Psalms as Lament for Exile and Praise for a Return

April 16, 2025 By Peter Krol

This wonderful piece by Nicholas Piotrowski summarizes the entire book of Psalms, showing that this collection of poems was intentionally organized to lament Israel’s exile and praise God for her return. In the process, the book generates hope for a future glorious return of God’s people through a new, resurrected David.

Here is a taste:

…while psalms attributed to David decreased over books 3 and 4, his psalms are back in force in book 5. Psalms 108–110, 122, 124, 131, 133, and Psalms 138–145 are all ascribed to David. The emphasis that emerges is that “the answer to the problem of exile is David.” Having been laid “in the dust” at the end of book 3 (Ps. 89:39), David is now literarily back from the grave.

Check it out!

How to See a Narrative’s Train of Thought

June 14, 2024 By Peter Krol

Bible Stories Have a Point

Perhaps I’ve convinced you that part of Bible study requires picking up an author’s train of thought. And you can see it most clearly with instructional texts like epistles, wisdom poetry, and prophets. But what about the narrative books? Do they have a train of thought as well?

Ted McGrath (2014), Creative Commons

Remember that Bible stories are more than stories. While biblical narratives tell a true history of God’s redemption, the purpose of the stories is more than the history itself (or the story itself). Paul uses biblical narratives to provide examples to follow and warnings to avoid (1 Cor 10:6, 11). Jesus uses biblical narratives to draw ethical principles for his day (Mark 10:6-9). And Hebrews uses biblical narratives to inspire and motivate people not to shrink back but hold fast to Jesus despite great affliction (Hebrews 10:39-12:3). Examples, morals, and motivation all come from stories.

Finding the Point of a Bible Story

What does this mean for our Bible study? How do we find the main points of Bible stories?

Narratives by nature don’t present their material logically. You won’t find many “so that”s or “therefore”s in narratives, so it’s more challenging to trace out a logical train of thought.

But the tools of narratives lie primarily in plot, structure, and climax. Learn to see these things, and you’ll discover the narrator’s train of thought.

Plot: What is the primary sequence of action? Who does what to whom, and what are the results? At what point does the plot hinge and build toward climax and resolution?

Structure: Narratives won’t make clear logical argument, but they structure their material intentionally.

Climax: Where is the highest point of energy in the story? Where do the characters find what they seek or resolve their tension?

Look for these clues, and you’re on your way toward the main point.

Example #1 – Matthew 1:18-25

This short example begins with a clear title statement: “Now the birth of Jesus Christ took place in this way” (Matt 1:18). The plot immediately thickens as Mary gets pregnant and Joseph tries to do the right thing by her. Suddenly, an angel appears to him in a dream (not an everyday occurrence) and gives Joseph two commands with explanation:

command 1: do not fear to marry her.
- explanation: this child is from the Holy Spirit.
command 2: call his name Jesus.
- explanation: he will save his people from their sins.

So not only the marriage, but also the child’s name is important here. We don’t hit the story’s climax, though, until we read “All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet” (Matt 1:22), which leads into more talk of pregnancy, birth, and naming of a child – with another explanation of the name (God with us – Matt 1:23).

As the tension resolves, Joseph obeys the angel. And Matthew goes out of his way to tell us that he 1) married her without making love to her, and 2) named the child Jesus (Matt 1:24-25).

We’re not told much in this short tale, but the following things are clear:

Joseph is not this child’s father.
God has come to be with us.
This God will save his people from their sins.

What is the point of this short story? God himself has come to deal with his people’s sin. See how the story’s train of thought leads us to this key point?

Example #2 – Mark 6:7-8:30

I don’t have the space to analyze this lengthy passage exhaustively, but I want to show how observing structure helps us to get the point.

Intro: Jesus sends out the 12, creating a crisis for Herod: Who is Jesus? – 6:7-29

A Jesus feeds 5,000 – 6:30-44

B Jesus crosses the sea with his disciples – 6:45-56

C Pharisees argue with Jesus – 7:1-23

D Jesus talks to a woman about bread – 7:24-30

E Jesus heals a deaf man – 7:31-37

A Jesus feeds 4,000 – 8:1-9

B Jesus crosses the sea with his disciples – 8:10

C Pharisees argue with Jesus – 8:11-13

D Jesus talks to his disciples about bread – 8:14-21

E Jesus heals a blind man – 8:22-26

Conclusion: Peter sees and understands exactly who Jesus is – 8:27-30

Seeing this larger structure is what helped me to understand why it took Jesus two tries to heal the blind man in Mark 8:22-26. Mark portrays two parallel cycles of events with the disciples, where they get to experience firsthand who Jesus is. Herod’s initial questions (John the Baptist? Elijah? One of the prophets?) go unanswered until Jesus takes his disciples through these two cycles.

And they don’t get it (Mark 8:21). But in healing the blind man, Mark gives a living parable of Jesus’ healing of the disciples blindness. And then, finally, they see him clearly. Not John the Baptist, Elijah, or one of the prophets – but the Christ (Mark 8:27-29).

The narrative has a train of thought; not only within a particular episode but also across many episodes. Look for this train and hop on board.

Jesus is the Best Thing for Your Conscience

October 13, 2023 By Peter Krol

A person’s conscience is a funny thing.

‌My earliest memory of what I would consider my “conscience” involves a little orange newt I found when I was 6 or 7 years old. I picked it up and thought it would be fun to throw it as hard as I could into a brick wall at point blank range.

‌Far from being fun, it made me feel sick to my stomach.

‌A little voice in my head informed me that I was a poor excuse for a human being. And that voice was right.

‌I tried to cover my tracks, so nobody would know of my dark deeds. But I still just couldn’t stand the time spent waiting for others to return to my location, and potentially catch me red-handed.

eastern newt on ground — Photo by Connor McManus on Pexels.com

‌What about you? What sort of run-ins have you had with your conscience? And what is it like to wait for the eventual return of King Jesus?

‌Does your conscience inject your waiting with anxiety at what he will find, or with eagerness for his justice?

‌Maybe your conscience still accuses you of things you have done. Maybe it reminds you of your past, or of the secret desires you don’t wish to speak about openly. Maybe your conscience gives you a clean bill of health … for now.

‌Regardless, Hebrews 9 has some really good news for you: Jesus is the best thing for your conscience.

The chapter divides into two main sections. The first section (Heb 9:1-14) describes the “regulations for worship and an earthly place of holiness” (Heb 9:1), culminating in the assurance of eternal redemption (Heb 9:12) through the eternal Spirit (Heb 9:14). The second section (Heb 9:15-28) elaborates on Jesus’ new covenant mediation, which provides an eternal inheritance (Heb 9:15).

‌So Jesus is the best thing for your conscience — for those two reasons. He provides an eternal redemption, and he promises an eternal inheritance.

‌If Jesus is your priest, nobody can take these things away. Your redemption. Your inheritance. And these two things will have a profoundly cleansing effect on your conscience.

Over the next few weeks, I’ll take a closer look at each section of this glorious chapter.

Units of Thought in Poetry

February 10, 2023 By Peter Krol

The Bible’s poetry can seem so strange and foreign, until you realize how to follow their train of thought. Then you can see why so many of them are among the most moving and beautiful poems in the history of the world.

The trick is to learn to read them as poems and not simply as random collections of inspiring sentiments. Why is it encouraging to be assured that you will regularly traverse the valley of death (Ps 23:4)? Because you have a divine shepherd (Ps 23:1-4) who is a lavish host (Ps 23:5-6).

So how do we go about observing the structure of a biblical poem? How do we distinguish the stanzas or sections?

Photo by Trust “Tru” Katsande on Unsplash

Stanzas

The primary structuring device in a biblical poem is the stanza. A stanza is sort of like a paragraph in prose texts; it’s a collection of lines or sentences into a coherent unit of thought. So when seeking the structure of a poem, the first and primary goal is to divide the poem into stanzas.

Many modern Bible editions help immensely, since they put a blank space between stanzas for you. The main challenge is to figure out from the text whether your Bible’s editors are right.

For example, in Proverbs 3:13-35, every translation seems to have a different idea of where the thought-divisions occur. Though most treat Prov 3:13 as the start of a unit, the LEB includes verses 11-12 with the first stanza. There is some diversity as to whether to treat Prov 3:19-20 as its own unit or as part of what follows. Also, the ESV sees Prov 3:27 as the end of the stanza that begins with Prov 3:21, but nearly every other version considers Prov 3:27 as the start of a new stanza.

ESV	CSB	LEB	NET	NIV
13-18	13-18	11-18	13-26	13-18
19-20	19-20	19-35		19-20
21-27	21-26			21-26
28-35	27-35		27-35	27-30
				31
				32-35

Stanza divisions in Proverbs 3:13-35

How do we decide who is right? A few tools will help us make such a decision.

Refrains

The first and simplest structuring device in Hebrew poetry is the refrain. A refrain is a line or sentence that repeats at regular intervals to mark off units of thought.

Here are some examples of refrains:

“Restore us, O God, let your face shine that we may be saved” (Ps 80: 3, 7, 19) divides Psalm 80 into three stanzas.
“The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress” (Ps 46:7, 11) divides Psalm 46 into two stanzas.
“Why are you cast down… Hope in God” (Ps 42:5, 11; Ps 43:5) divides Psalm 42-43 into three stanzas.
“For all this his anger has not turned away” (Is 9:12, 17, 21; Is 10:4) divides Isaiah 9:8-10:4 into four stanzas.
“Yet you did not return to me” (Amos 4:6, 8, 9, 10, 11) divides Amos 4:6-12 into six stanzas.

Inclusio

An inclusio is a word or phrase that occurs at the beginning and end of a passage. It is similar to a refrain, except that it occurs specifically at beginning and end, like bookends on a library shelf.

Some psalms use an inclusio at the beginning and end of the entire poem (e.g. Psalms 8, 103, 113, 118). That encompassing inclusio may help us to grasp the poem’s main idea, but it doesn’t help us break the poem down into subdivided stanzas or units of thought.
Other times, an inclusio marks off a stanza or unit of thought for us. For example:
- “wisdom and instruction” repeated in Prov 1:2, 7—showing us that those verses all fit together as a unit of thought.
- “gazelle or young stag on the mountains” bookends the poetic stanza in Song 2:8-17.

Metaphor Shifts

Often, a poet shifts gears in his thought when he shifts from one overriding metaphor to another.

In Psalm 23, there is a shift from the larger metaphor of shepherd (Ps 23:1-4) to the metaphor of host (Ps 23:5-6).
In Psalm 71, the poet seeks refuge in God (Ps 71:1-6), proves that enemies aren’t so scary (Ps 71:7-15), remembers God’s work in the past (Ps 71:16-18), and employs the past to provide hope for the future (Ps 71:19-24). The shifts in these metaphorical phases of life outline the poem’s train of thought.
In Isaiah 5, the metaphor of the vineyard dominates Is 5:1-7. Then the threat of curse (Is 5:8-23) turns into the metaphor of fire (Is 5:24-25), before the chapter concludes with the metaphor of signal or alarm (Is 5:26-30).

Grammar Shifts

Sometimes, the changes from stanza to stanza are evident through shifts in the grammar.

There could be shifts in subject, as in Psalm 24: God (1-2), God’s people (3-6), God together with his people (7-10).
There could be shifts in pronouns or audience, as in Psalm 29: speaking to heavenly beings (1-2), speaking about Yahweh’s voice (3-9), speaking about Yahweh’s enthronement (10-11).

Conclusion

To draw defensible conclusions regarding a poem’s main point, we must be able to identify the poem’s units of thought. Then we can show how each of those units builds a case and contributes to the main idea. The trick is that we can’t simply go with what “feels right.” We ought to have observable clues within the text that mark the divisions for us. Refrains, incusios, and shifts in metaphor may be among such observable evidence.

Back to Proverbs 3

So where does that leave us on the question of Proverbs 3:13-35? How do these tools help us identify the stanzas (see the chart above)?

Prov 3:13-18 has the inclusio of both “blessing” and the concept of finding or laying hold of wisdom. Prov 3:21-26 has an inclusio of “keeping” or being “kept.” That whole section of Prov 3:13-26 thus has a unified metaphor of finding and keeping wisdom. At the center of that section is a brief description of how Yahweh built wisdom right into the fabric of the universe at the moment of creation (Prov 3:19-20). This explains why it “works” that finding and keeping wisdom will result in great blessing.

Prov 3:27-28 has two prohibitions against “withholding good.” Prov 3:29-30 has two prohibitions against “planning evil.” The chapter ends (Prov 3:32-35) with a grammatical shift to four assurances (parallel to the four prohibitions) that Yahweh neither plans evil nor withholds good from the right people at the right time. In between those two four-verse chunks is a warning not to envy violent men (Prov 3:31)—those who constantly plan evil and withhold good from others when it suits them. So the entire section (Prov 3:27-35) sticks together under the larger metaphor of humanitarian dealings (love your neighbor as yourself).

So in the end, I agree with both the NET and the NIV (though the CSB is not far off). The NET is correct that there are two main units of thought. The NIV is correct that each of those main units has three subsections. We’d be greatly helped if there were a clear way to represent both the main stanzas and their subdivisions in the way our Bibles lay out the text.

Units of Thought in Discourse

January 27, 2023 By Peter Krol

One of the most important observations to make in a passage is the structure. And the way to observe structure is to first identify the parts of the passage (the units of thought) so that you can figure out how those parts relate to one another. In this post I’ll show you some of the ways to recognize the units of thought in a discourse.

What is a Discourse?

Discourse is one of the three text types in Scripture. A discourse is simply a passage where someone is speaking. It could be a speech or sermon. It could be a law code. It could be a letter. It could be a prose prophetic text. But when someone is speaking or teaching, a few particular tools will help us to discern the units of thought in that speech.

Photo by Volodymyr Hryshchenko on Unsplash

Logical Connectors

The first thing to look for is logical connectors. These are words or phrases that signal the movement from one idea to another. Such words include because, since, however, therefore, consequently, for this reason, finally, and many more.

It’s important to observe the use of such logical connectors, but it’s even more important to figure out how they are being used. For example, the word “but” could signal a very narrow and particular contrast between two words (e.g. the contrast between “bronze bases” and “silver hooks” in Ex 38:17). It could signal a larger contrast between clauses (e.g. the contrast between “the patriarchs sold him into Egypt” and “God was with him” in Acts 7:9). Or it could signal a larger contrast between sections or units of thought (e.g. the contrast between “you were” in Eph 2:1-3 and “but God” in Eph 2:4-6).

Noticing these larger, discourse-level transitions (not just word-level or clause-level transitions) helps us to follow the author’s larger argument by identifying his units of thought. For example, in Ephesians, after the blessing of God in Eph 1:3-14, the connector words “for this reason” (Eph 1:15) signal the next section. And there is no discourse-level connector word again until the “therefore” of Eph 2:11. This suggests that Eph 1:15-2:10 are a single unit of thought, explaining Paul’s prayer for the Ephesians to perceive their union with Christ. And the “therefore” section of Eph 2:11-22 explains the practical implications of such union of the entire community with Christ (and therefore with one another).

Transitional and Thesis Statements

In a modern-day sermon, you might hear the preacher say “My first point is…” or “Having seen [the first point], that leads us to consider the matter of [the second point].” These are the sorts of transitional words and phrases speakers use to let their audience know they are moving from one idea to the next. Some biblical discourses do the same thing.

For example, Hebrews 1:4 states a thesis that the Son of God is superior to angels because he has inherited a superior name. Heb 1:5-14 then explains the superiority of the Son, and Heb 2:5-18 demonstrates his superior name. Though there is some application in the middle (Heb 2:1-4), Heb 1:4-2:18 makes one complete unit of thought.

Another example: Eccl 11:7-8 states a thesis that because light is pleasant for the eyes, we ought to rejoice in what God gives and remember that dark days are coming. Eccl 11:9-10 then expands on the command to rejoice in God’s gift of life, and Eccl 12:1-7 expands on the command to remember the Creator before the dark days of old age threaten your joy.

One more example: In the second half of 1 Corinthians, Paul introduces each section with a transitional “concerning [the matters about which you wrote.” These transitional statements clearly inform us how to understand each section, so that we don’t get lost in the details. 1 Cor 7 deals with sexual relationships. 1 Cor 8-11 addresses the matter of food offered to idols. 1 Cor 12-14 covers the topic of spiritual things or spiritual people (the word “gifts” does not appear in the Greek of 1 Cor 12:1 but is added by translators).

Shifts in Content

When distinguishing units of thought in discourse, one final tool to keep in mind is straightforward shifts in content. We see such shifts clearly in Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount where he uses very few direct transitions or connectors. After the blessings (Matt 5:3-12) he discusses salt and light (Matt 5:13-16) and the proper understanding of the Law and the Prophets, against Pharisaic oral tradition (Matt 5:17-48).

Then he does offer a thesis statement in Matt 6:1 to warn us of practicing righteousness before other people, and his shifts in content from giving (Matt 6:2-4) to prayer (Matt 6:5-15) to fasting (Matt 6:16-18) mark the subdivisions under that larger thesis.

Finally, he concludes the sermon with discussion of treasure (Matt 6:19-34), true and false judgments (Matt 7:1-20), and hearing and doing (Matt 7:21-27).

Embedded Discourse

One special type of discourse to watch for is embedded discourse, which is when a speech is placed within another kind of text, such as a narrative. When we’re dealing with embedded discourse, we must not only look for structural markers within the discourse itself. We must also pay close attention to the narrative markers that show the author’s larger purpose.

The Sermon on the Mount is embedded within Matthew’s larger narrative. So while the shifts in content help us to observe structural units of thought within the speech, we must also take note of the narrative frame in Matt 4:23-5:2 and Matt 7:28-29 to grasp not only Jesus’ point but also Matthew’s larger point in recounting the sermon.

Another example: In the Flood narrative, notice the narrative markers “And God said to Noah” (Gen 6:13) and “Then the LORD aid to Noah” (Gen 7:1). Prior to the Flood, God makes two speeches to Noah. We ought not squish them together, as though they were a single set of instructions. The narrator signals that God had two points to make or two sets of instructions for Noah.

Similarly, in Genesis 17, the narrative markers of Gen 17:1, 9, 15, and 22 mark three distinct speeches of God. God had something to say about himself (Gen 17:1-8). Something about Abram (Gen 17:9-14). Something about Sarai (Gen 17:15-21). And then he was done (Gen 27:22). Simply observe how the discourse has been embedded within the narrative, and you have immediately found the main units of thought and thereby the structure.

Conclusion

Discourse texts are some of the most beloved passages in all the Scripture. But we must be careful, for it is remarkably easy to get lost in the details. Employ these four tools—logical connectors, transitional and thesis statements, content shifts, and narrative markers for embedded discourse—to help you find the units of thought, and you’ll be well on your way to grasping the passage’s structure. This matters, because only once you’ve grasped the structure will you be able to draw credible and defensible conclusions about the passage’s main idea.

How to Find the Parts of a Passage

January 20, 2023 By Peter Krol

Your top priority in Bible study is to discern the author’s main point. And to discern that main point, one of the most important observations you can make is the passage’s structure. The structure of the text refers to how the author has arranged of the parts.

However, before you can see an order or arrangement of the parts, you have to be able to identify the parts!

What are the parts?

We can identify units of thought on different scales. What are the divisions of a whole book? What are the parts of each division? What are the paragraphs or stanzas within each part? Ryan addressed some of these different scales when he asked how much of the Bible we should study at a time. Because the skills of observing units of thought carry over from the smaller scale to the larger scale, I’ll address that smaller scale (dividing the text into paragraphs or stanzas) first.

When in doubt, you can begin by following the editors of your favorite translation, who have typically broken up the text into paragraphs or stanzas for you. But different translations have divided the paragraphs or stanzas in different places, so no single committee is always right! For example, take Proverbs 3:27. The ESV handles it as the end of a stanza (Prov 3:21-27), but the CSB treats it as the beginning of another (Prov 3:27-35). I’m inclined to agree with the CSB on this one, on account of the structure of the argument.

How do you recognize the parts?

But how do you go about making such a decision? How do you identify coherent parts or units in the passage without simply dissecting the whole thing like a bin full of Lego minifigure heads? It all depends on the text type.

In a narrative, units of thought are generally defined by scenes. Sometimes (especially in the gospels) scenes contain one complete plot arc—for example, Luke 5:1-11. Sometimes (especially in Old Testament narratives) a single plot arc can stretch over a few scenes—for example, 1 Kings 18:1-46.
In a poem, units of thought are generally defined by coherent metaphors or persons. When the metaphor shifts, or the address shifts from talking about one person to talking to or about another, you may be observing distinct units of thought. For example, Psalm 80 shifts from the metaphor of a saving shepherd (Ps 80:1-3) to that of an angry provider (Ps 80:4-7) to that of a ravaged vine (Ps 80:8-19)—marking three units of thought.
In a discourse, units of thought are generally defined by conclusions and premises. The authors of letters and speeches seek to persuade their audience through argumentation, so they mark their units of thought by means of their conclusions. For example, Heb 1:13 argues that God has spoken by his Son. Heb 1:4-14 argues that this Son is superior to angels. Heb 2:1-4 argues that we must pay closer attention to the Son’s message that we would to the angels’ message. And so on. Track the flow from one conclusion to the next, and you’ll discern the units of thought.

Conclusion

I’m not suggesting a simple one-size-fits-all approach to any of these text types. Such literary analysis can get quite complex and requires careful thought. But if you start with these basic skills, you’ll improve at recognizing when you need to expand your toolset to other sorts of skills as well.

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!

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.

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

November 26, 2021 By Peter Krol

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?

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.

What Should We Make of Paul’s Shipwreck Narrative?

September 3, 2021 By Peter Krol

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.

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.