1. The Book we Call “The Bible”⤒🔗

The Bible abandoned as a Book←↰⤒🔗

For many today it does not appear so self-evident that the Bible would actually be a book to be read. Maybe it is regarded as a portfolio of various sections that lend themselves to reading, or as a compendium, but in any case not as a book. Many regard the Bible less and less as a literary product with a fixed concept and purpose. In the nineteenth century, many considered the Old Testament to be the earliest bundle of religious literature of the Jewish people. And the New Testament became classified as “early Christian literature.” Biblical exegesis turned into the exploration of the sources of Jewish and Christian religion and culture. An evolved Christianity in Western Europe read the collection with interest, as it related to explain its origins. But who would think of considering a stack of yellowed documents in a family archive to be a book?

The general disposition in the twentieth century became somewhat different than in the century that preceded it. This is also reflected in how the Bible is viewed. Increasingly it is approached as a collection of authentic, existential faith-experiences from the past. Each biblical author would have a different experience and goal, but somehow all these people were involved with faith. Existential Christianity seeks its resonance in separate Bible journals. But who would consider the heterogeneous and time-bound individual snapshots of past experiences of faith to represent one book?

From within the United Bible Societies the plea can be heard that advocates a reversal of the old mistake of these Societies, and no longer to publish the Bible in the format of a book. The slogan is, “Set the word of God free!” And this word therefore needs to be freed from the two stiff covers in which it is bound. After all, did the earliest Christians not deal with separate booklets: a scroll of Mark, another scroll of Luke, and a letter to a church in Ephesus? Should the Bible societies, therefore, cease publishing one Holy Book and return instead to distributing the un-bound word of God through folded sheets, pamphlets, brochures, and tracts? To read God’s word is then no longer a matter of one reading book, but rather of reading separate leaflets.¹

The Canon does not provide any “added value”←↰⤒🔗

Even within churches where the Bible can still be seen as a book on the pulpit, the question may arise as to whether it was this book that was intended by God. Generally it is put this way: is the canon not the result of a decision made by the churches at a later time? Are we even bound by this canon? Surely the council was not inspired, and fallible, prejudiced humans might have made the selection? These questions also touch on hermeneutics, the interpretation of the Bible. Is the context properly delineated when reading? If the church not only served as the bookbinder, but also as the assembler, the publisher of the volume, and as the “editor,” then we should conclude that the context of “the Bible as one book” is illegitimate. We should take the individual portions out of the bound volume before we can even start to explain them.

We do need to insert a historical note here. Although it has been suggested from many angles that the church itself shaped the canon, this would be historically incorrect.² The canon of the Old Testament, as it is printed in Bibles without the apocryphal books, already applied in the time of Jesus. But no one can indicate precisely when this canon was ever established. The same applies to the canon of the New Testament. In various books one can read that it was not established with any definite certainty until the Council of Carthage in 397 AD. However, when we consult the Acts of this council, it appears that there is only one article (XLVII) that deals with the books of the Bible. The opening lines read: “There was agreement on this point also: apart from the canonical writings, nothing may be read in the churches under the name of “Divine Writings.”³

Thus, the council did not establish the canon, but prohibited non-canonical writings from being read in the liturgical reading of Scripture. A list of the canonical writings then follows in the article — not to confirm these now, but to indicate an accurate delineation of the agreed-upon books. The list is not actually a part of the decision, but is added to it as a familiar, standard list. The canon existed already centuries before. And it also existed as a limited entity. When in the middle of the second century the heretic Marcion came up with his own edition of the Bible, in which he left out a lot, loud protests could be heard. Not because the canon should be set in stone differently than Marcion proposes, but because he turns out to be someone who starts to cut into the canon and so mutilates it. But how could he be accused of this without already having something to cut into? The canon is already valid at the beginning of the second century. True, there had been some confusion in some church provinces about a single part of it: the distribution of the writings was still limited! But one cannot point to a moment at the end of the first century in which a council could have worked on the final selection and collection. Apparently the church preserved the writings as a matter of self-evidence because of their obvious value and their unity.

The books of the Bible do indeed show an inner cohesion, by which they present themselves to us as a unit. This concord is anchored in the one Author. God has spoken, has revealed himself through all kinds of writings, but it is from the same hand. In the Old Testament we often find the formulation used to introduce messages that are conveyed: “Thus speaks...” or “the oracle of...” This formula marks the point at which the messenger begins to render his message as literally as a fax machine does today. The messages spoken on behalf of the LORD connect directly to God’s own Word. The directly commissioned revelations are the standard by which all other speaking can be measured and then it appears that there is a strong unity between Moses and the prophets. In the New Testament the canon already present (in what we now call the Old Testament) is referred to as “the Scriptures.” This plural can also take the form of the singular: “Scripture” (2 Peter 1:20). And these writings are cited as one authoritative source. In the Greek Bible (the Septuagint), apocryphal books were added and on account of this also found their way into the Christian Bibles. In Luke 24:44, however, we find an explicit indication of which Scriptures are accepted by Jesus. He names them there with the designation “the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms.” This is a technical designation of the canon in the Hebrew Bible (Law, Prophets, Writings) without the apocryphal books. Peter also extends the designation “Scripture” to the letters of Paul (2 Peter 3:15-16), saying that ignorant and unstable people twist these letters, “as they do the other Scriptures”! Peter confirms here the fact that Paul’s letters were written “by the will of God,” as he himself often notes in the salutations. Christ himself gave the apostles a special power to bind and to loosen. The New Testament is largely of their making. Only a few writings are not by an apostle, but then the author is someone from the circle of the former disciples of Jesus or from the close circle of the apostles (Mark, Luke, Jude, James [where he is not assumed to have been an original apostle] and the author of Hebrews).

The unity of Authorship, the unity of one Source, is shown by the unity of the content. All the Scriptures bear witness to the Christ (John 5:39). Therefore, there is also a unity of purpose. The entire Bible is “profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16-17). This unity of purpose is founded by Paul at the beginning of verse 16 in the unity of the Author: “All Scripture is breathed out (other translations: “inspired”) by God.”

Those who consider the Bible as a book do justice to the reality that the various parts of this book are linked to each other and appear to depend on each other. The inner cohesion, a characteristic of the unity of a literary product, is present here in its own way. It may also be expressed in the bookbinding. Who would ever refuse to read a poet’s Collected Poems because he never reproduced them in this bound format? And this is only about the scattered poems of an author, whereas with the Bible it is about a production of coherent parts spread over time but connected in terms of content. Regarding this Bible as a reading book does not mean that we are sailing by the compass of past councils, but it does justice to the object of our study.

The one intention of the authors←↰⤒🔗

The fact that the Bible presents itself as a book has implications for how we read it.

It is incumbent upon us to look for the one intent of the author. Paul says that everything that was written before was written “for our instruction” (Romans 15:4). And Peter says that the prophets searched carefully, trying to understand the full meaning of the words that spoke about the later times, of Christ’s coming and our salvation (1 Peter 1:9-12). The meaning of the Scriptures, then, must be found in their overall coherence, in the whole of revelation. Anyone who wants to explain Isaiah without taking the New Testament into account works like someone who tries to explain the first chapter of a novel without taking the following events into account.⁴

The harmony of the book prevents an isolated and disconnected exegesis of individual verses or portions of text that have been lifted out of their context. In his second letter Peter says that “no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.” On this he then bases the statement that no prophecy of Scripture allows “someone’s own interpretation” (2 Peter 1:20-21). The Greek word idias means “pertaining to self; private.” The implication is that no prophecy can be separated from the whole that the Holy Spirit has spoken. The apostle Peter gives us here the all-important starting point for reading the Bible: read the entire book and not some individual letters, seek the intention of God and do not isolate any passages from the real Author.

We should not only continue to speak of “The Book of the Bible,” but we must also start doing so.

2. Reading is Possible!←⤒🔗

Is reading “speaking into the text”?←↰⤒🔗

Just when we have the Bible in front of us as a reading book, it is slammed shut in front of us again by a group of people who shout at us, “Reading is an illusion!” For a number of people, the possibility of meaningful reading has become a contentious issue.

In philosophy — which since its rejection of biblical revelation has always been strongly interested in the theory of how knowledge is conveyed, and which has presented us with various theories on this subject from Descartes and via Kant and with the help of Husserl’s phenomenological school — the word “hermeneutics” has meanwhile emerged. “Hermeneutics” is not meant here in the sense of the science of reading, but as a philosophy of understanding. Should we not first make ourselves aware of the presuppositions of our reading and our understanding? And is not human understanding, which plays such an important role precisely in reading, strongly determined by its own condition and expectations and limitations? Can there even be any “meaning” outside of the understanding of the subject? These are old questions presented in a new format. In this way the term “hermeneutics” often takes on new meaning today.

In certain currents within literary studies we find similar problematic definitions. The textual interpretation then becomes a self-projection on the screen of any given text. Exegesis turns into interpretive history. The text is like the rock thrown into the pond, around which we draw our ever-widening circles. Reading is speaking! The extreme statement of Roland Barthes—“in the text, only the reader is speaking” — is well known.

From this mild rain in the area of philosophy and literary studies, drops are also falling in the field of theology. A so-called “new hermeneutics” arose, one that might better be referred to as “another hermeneutics.” In this framework the Bible is regarded as an ancient book. Someone might be able to uncover the meaning that biblical texts used to have in a text-archaeological way, but that meaning is dead by now. And so the dead text has to come to life again. A sleeping cat only turns once again into a grabbing cat when you hold a mouse in front of it, according to Fuchs. For that reason our own existence is to be imposed on the text. It is not we who need to explain the text but the other way: it has to explain us. In the confrontation of modern man with dead text, a new spark can nevertheless ignite; a reanimation can take place. Fuchs even goes so far as not to condemn a situation where a modern interpretation would come into conflict with the original intention of the historical text. The actual text is no longer read in a passive way, but we read into the text!

Is our reading guided by a presupposition of truth?←↰⤒🔗

In the background of all of this there is a new conception of what constitutes reality and truth. Metaphysical statements are rejected as non-verifiable or a-historical. People should no longer talk about a heaven when we have our hands full with the earth.

In the seventeenth century, Deism aided to disconnect God from the world. God is merely the pacesetter while for the rest the world is given over to itself. The nineteenth century witnessed a strong attention to the internal developments of the world and of its history. The evolution theory in the realm of biology is one symptom of this. The world, having left God behind, is increasingly interested in its own evolution.

The twentieth century brought a link into play between this historicism and the theory of reality. God, or an eternal truth, is not only something of the past but it is even something that can never have existed. Truth also grows along with man. Man creates his own truth and reality, so that truth now becomes as “historical” as man is.

Now it becomes irritating when some Christians think they still read timeless truths and abiding principles in their textbooks. Such Christians could read such a thing only if a God actually existed, along with an eternal reality and a constant providence. On this matter the unbelievers are correct. If God does not exist and if there is no fixed truth, then we also cannot detect it in the Bible. We are only dreaming while we are reading and then we project our uncertainty onto an ancient book, like drowning people clinging to some floating wreckage.

However, before we let go of this so-called wreckage and allow ourselves to sink down to the bottom, we should ask ourselves whether the voices around us are not originating from some mythological Sirens.

Six remarks regarding these two questions←↰⤒🔗

In this context we will need to make some brief remarks that may urge us, like Odysseus’ shipmates, to plug our ears with wax to this fashionable melody.

First: the proposition that all truths are time-bound is self-defeating. Let us wait until, eventually this thesis will also be considered to be time-bound. Or is this thesis the only one that does represent an “eternal truth”?

Secondly, the dilemma “historical vis-à-vis everlasting” is a false dilemma. Eternity, which is permanent and constant, does not need to be isolated from history at all. The eternal Son of God actually experienced time on earth: Wednesday nights and Thursday afternoons...

Thirdly, the acceptance and reckoning with permanent, fixed truths and realities is wrongly typecast as “Greek thinking” or “Platonic.” Plato had a very unique understanding of the relationship between eternity and history. His view of these two concepts is something other than distinguishing the two. False labeling, however, has already frightened many ordinary people who did not know much about Plato or Greek thought, but understood that it was something very bad. In order to escape that odium, people have sometimes hardly dared any longer to utter such wholesome distinctions as “body and soul,” “time and eternity.” This spell needs to be broken.

Fourth, there is a significant difference between a situation where the Bible does not mean anything to someone, and the proposition that the Bible has no longer any meaning. The Bible certainly does have meaning. The thesis that the Bible no longer makes sense for our present time represents a value judgment about that meaning, and is not a hermeneutical starting point.

Fifth, the reality that the Bible as a book no longer has meaning for many people can be described as a result of the exercise of Scripture-critical exegetes who cover up the meaning. This exegesis has torn the body of Scripture apart into many loose limbs, so that it is no wonder that the voice no longer speaks and that the hand is no longer extended!

In the sixth place, in this fallen world in which God is still graciously coming towards us, we cannot afford the headstrong luxury of interrupting God’s speaking with the preliminary question about the historical character of the truth. It was at a very crucial moment of this world’s history that this preliminary question was voiced. Pilate stood at the crossroads before the cross. Christ addressed him. Then this educated Roman, who certainly would have been taught at the grammar school from his stoic or sceptical teachers and also had learned from them about preliminary questions, asked, “What is truth?” (John 18:37-38): a very essential question coming from the lips of this politician. But it is striking that Christ does not answer him. Pilate now has to choose justice, has to defend its truth, and he has to answer Jesus’ claim that he came into the world to bear witness to the truth. But he evades it by asking a preliminary question. He remained stuck in that. One cannot keep one’s hands in one’s pockets for the time being when God is reaching out to the guilty. But when a Christian says, “Christ is the truth and the life,” this Christian does not do this on the basis of a preliminary conclusion about “the truth,” but on the basis of what he hears and sees. We must not philosophize about “truth and reality” as if nothing had happened yet and as if there is nothing going on!

Hermeneutics: not a magic wand, but a pair of reading glasses←↰⤒🔗

We need not be discouraged. The Bible is a book. And we are able to read it. Hermeneutics is not a magic wand, making the dead text to become alive for us, but it is more like a pair of reading glasses. They show what is already there. Reading glasses help us to know and appreciate the meaning that is present.

It is true that to expect meaning (and possibly eternal truth) is a normal starting attitude in all human reading. Otherwise no person would ever buy the latest books of philosophers, literary theorists and theologians either. From the text it can become clear to us whether our expectation is being challenged and whether we may need to revise our attitude. It is theoretically possible that the Bible would teach us: there is no eternal truth: everything is always humanly changeable. But then this comes to us as the meaning of the text we read, not as a bias against the text. When we start reading the Bible, we should not suddenly start acting strange. When we read Plato we do also expect something different than a pile of notes from a shopkeeper in Athens, which are meaningless to us. When we open Horace, we expect to experience the beauty of his poems, although it is quite possible that afterwards we are of the opinion that we cannot appreciate them. So why such great difficulty when we open up the Bible? Here we may expect to hear the truth about religion. Whether this truth will receive our agreement is something else altogether. Our expectations in what we read should conform normally to the given object and not be disturbed by abnormal behaviour that is caused by prejudices that have nothing to do with the object of investigation.

When we compare hermeneutics to a pair of reading glasses, we want to indicate here that the criterion for meaning is embedded in the text itself, and not in the reader or in the glasses. The accuracy of the glasses is measured by the exegetical result. Someone who comes to the eye doctor with bad eyes may doubt whether the white spot on the wall contains any recognizable letter text, but then he selects the lenses that are offered with increasing or decreasing clarity of the letters. The glasses do not create the letters. The hermeneutic does not create meaning. Therefore, hermeneutics is always to be calibrated with the object. In this way, hermeneutics exists by the grace of a readable, meaningful text and not the other way around.⁵

3. Follow the Rules for Reading←⤒🔗

The difference between (the sciences of) language and the text←↰⤒🔗

With the Bible as our reading book many carry a hope-filled expectation from theology for a number of reading rules, with which one can unlock the meaning of any text as with a master key. This expectation is incorrect. In principle, the reading rules do not go ahead of us, but they follow us. There are certain groups that bring a key for the lock, such as the Mormons or the Jehovah’s Witnesses. But then it is clear that this reading from the Mormons or Russell’s code does not do justice to the Bible. Incidentally, we only discover this now when we get into the Bible without that key. And now we sense for the first time how hermeneutical rules will follow us in the exegetical walk-around, and how they are not getting ahead of us.

With language as such this is different. Language, as a conventional system of signs, allows itself to be described to a significant extent in a grammatically-bound system of rules. Even here there are limitations: often the form characteristics are still somewhat ambiguous and semantic indications (commas, periods, and so on) need to be used to arrive at a definitive determination of a language form. But this is a limitation that does not render grammar to be altogether meaningless. In explaining the Bible we have everything to do with the linguistic form of the text. The study of Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek is needed. These are not sacred or uncommon languages. There is no biblical language, although there is a biblical text. Now some people involved with literary studies and theology presume that one can also write some sort of textual-grammar.⁶ This is incorrect. The text, as distinct from the language, is not conventional and not tied to any system of text-production.⁷ Linguistically, we are not free to sound as we please. But textually we are free to say what we like and that is also possible in the open system of language. This also entails that the understanding of a text begins in principle with the given text itself and not at a more general level.⁸

This means that the criteria for understanding the intended meaning of a text are found in that text itself. Within the text as a whole there is a continuous determination of the whole by the parts and vice versa. As we find ourselves in this field of tension we gain insight into the meaning and the intention. Insofar as there are also hermeneutical rules that apply, they are rules of feedback. In the sentence, “I loved John until he started imagining all sorts of things as a student” there is grammatically nothing that prevents us from thinking of a situation of marital distress. Yet we understand this phrase in the relationship of friends, brothers and sisters or parents and children, but in any case not in the relationship of a married couple. The combination of an apparently lengthier period of love and the cooling down of that love at a fairly youthful age that is usually merely the earliest starting point for marriage excludes (to our understanding) a possibility of meaning. Our criteria are derived from the social customs of our culture. However, should this sentence appear in a novel that describes how a long-married person at the age of forty still begins a study, we say on the basis of the literary context that the first rejected and somewhat abnormal meaning is the only possible one here because of the context of the book. This shows that the textual context has priority over other contexts. Now we are able to deduce a rule: first pay attention to the elements within the sentence itself, and then to those in the context, and only then to elements from the larger cultural contexts in which the text was written. However, this rule is so general that I can first determine within the given text what I can do with it.

The process of understanding is a great mystery in God’s creation. It seems evident that any understanding can only begin where there is comprehension in the first place. It is as if a person receives a vague and provisional understanding in a flash, which is then adjusted and corrected quickly by a confrontation with the parts of the text and feedback to the whole.

Hermeneutics does provide us with a set of keys: pay attention to who says something, why and to whom, when and where, in what way (how) and with what intention.⁹ But we do not know beforehand which key fits which lock. Sometimes it is not relevant at all who is saying something and if we then search for it feverishly we may miss the meaning. At other times it is very decisive who says something and if we then forget to use this key, the same thing may happen.

Furthermore, in hermeneutics there are also many so-called rules that are nothing more than frequently occurring exegetical conclusions. For example, when someone lashes out at the principle of style and argues that attention should always be paid to the use of metaphors, one is suggesting a rule of reading. In fact, a metaphor is only recognizable when I already understand the text. In Christ’s words about disciples being sent like sheep among wolves (Matthew 10:16), every person understands immediately from the context that the word “wolves” has been used here in a metaphorical, figurative sense. But when I say that the Christians in Nero’s time were released like sheep before the lions, everyone will think here of real lions. Why? Because — first of all — we know it and then afterwards recognize the metaphor as well.

Something similar happens when one works with larger forms of style. For instance, we are given the reading rule for Genesis 1 that it is a framed narrative. What does this mean? That these are stories of which we conclude, on the basis of exegesis, that the author did not intend to place literally everything on the same level, but that he has presented us with an amount of amorphous material and information in the overall story to achieve a moral or a narrative scheme. A framed narrative might be the result of a conclusion based on exegesis, but it can never be imposed on the text in advance. Would one designate a series of volumes on World War II as a framed narrative and as non-historical books merely because the author arranged it over a five-year period? We know that this framework is derived from the facts and that it does not constitute an imposed framework.

Concentric reading within the overall body of the text←↰⤒🔗

What is at all times critically important in the reading of texts is the precise determination of the literary whole, the boundaries within which the interpretation of the text needs to take place. In the case of a sonnet the composer is limited to a certain number of lines. But in the case of the poet Achterberg, he turned his work into a series of poems that are attuned to each other. A trilogy is meant to be read and understood as a complete unit. In an even larger context, beyond the boundaries of one individual person, we see this in the Jewish Talmud, which has been worked on for centuries. The statements of multiple rabbis in this Talmud need to be interpreted within the complex of the teaching tradition that crystallized in this centuries-long educational tome.

In the Bible the overall boundary is the book itself, as had been determined in the first paragraph. We now need to point out that the determination of this whole may not, as with other literary products, prevent us from seeing different levels within the whole. In a given trilogy, the chapter is a more immediate context than the next volume. Not every arbitrary line that one draws between parts of a textual whole is automatically a proper line because it still falls within the whole. The unclean spirit that was ordered to come out wandered restlessly through the desert (Luke 8:29). The people of Israel also wandered through the desert. However, these two elements cannot be connected to each other, except possibly to see the desert as a place where people do not like to live. Jairus’ daughter was twelve years old and Israel counted twelve tribes. Because of this, some people have tried to project the story of Israel on this young daughter. Careful exegesis, however, makes it clear that this connection is not directly intended with the mentioning of the age of a girl, who as an only child was still called “my little daughter” and of whom one might have thought that she was still very small, but who suddenly appears to be walking: No wonder, because this girl is already twelve years old!

The reading proceeds from the smallest exegetical unit (a psalm, a proverb, a narrative, the subject treatment in a letter) to its immediate context and only then to the whole Bible. Allow me to give some examples of this.

In Romans 12:2 (Douay-Rheims version) we can read “be reformed.” These two words could be understood as a propaganda slogan for the Dutch Reformed church. However, it is followed by, “in your thinking” (or: “in the newness of your mind”). These words give further meaning to the term “reformed.”

The Bible also says, “There is no God” (see for example, Psalm 14 or 53). This is an objective sentence. However, it is clear from the immediate context that this phrase contains a statement of the wicked and from the context it is clear that it is an expression of self-deception.

About Mary we read that the angel calls her “the favoured one,” and later Elizabeth says, “blessed are you among women.” The immediate context does not preclude us from interpreting these words as the Roman Catholic exegetes are doing, giving Mary a position of eminence in the church. However, when we read Luke 1 in the totality of the Gospels, this mariological exegesis becomes increasingly improbable. Mary is reprimanded, does not believe at first, and barely plays a role: the apostles come first! In Acts 1 we read about her with respect—yet without ecclesiastical significance. In the letters to the churches of the former Gentiles her name is not preached. On the contrary, only the name of Jesus is to be invoked for salvation. A potential perspective based on Luke 1 turns out to be an impossible view within the whole of Scripture. Another meaning of these words is already more plausible within Luke 1, and is also evident from the unity of Scripture.

In Galatians we read, “In Christ there is no male and female” (3:28). From the context it is clear that this is about the justification of the sinner before God. In that context, a further application of this phrase is neither directed nor recommended. Other texts in Paul’s letters deal explicitly with the position of man and woman in relation to each other and in relation to teaching in the church. These texts limit the general applicability of the phrase from Galatians. On the other hand, this word from Galatians prevents us from inferring from the fact that the woman may not teach in the church that her position before God and her dignity in the church would in any way be inferior to that of the man.

The book of Esther can be read as a Jewish nationalist history book or as a saga to authenticate the origins of the Purim festival. However, now that it is part of the Bible, such an interpretation is taken away. Haman, the Jew-hater, was an Agagite, from the people of Amalek. Here a connection arises with the LORD’s eternal struggle against Amalek, proclaimed in the time of the desert wanderings. Amalek then sought to prevent the entry into Canaan. Because Saul did not completely exterminate the Amalekites, an Agagite later emerged who aimed to kill the Jews before they had experienced the entry into the new dispensation of Christ. The book of Esther is not a Jewish book because of these “points of connection,” but it is a book about the fight of God’s enemies against the chosen people of Israel. The fact that the book appears so “human” (God’s name does not appear in it) reveals to us how the church people were living: in a horizontal, human way. Yet even in this low condition of the church it is God who watches over his people, and he involves an over-indulged Esther in averting Satan’s plans. The whole of the Bible determines the perspective in which we read this book.

In the Saviour’s farewell discourse we also hear him say, “the Father is greater than I” (John 14:28). This statement in itself may indicate the inaccuracy of the church’s Christology. However, in the whole of the Gospel according to John there are so many statements about the unity of the Father and the Son, that for that reason alone we cannot understand this text as indicating a difference in essence between the two. The context therefore provides us with a different and better exegesis. It is the moment when the disciples are upset about Jesus’ announced departure to the Father. They love Jesus so much that they want to hold on to him. But why? The Father, to whom Jesus is going, is greater than he whom they want to hold on to.

Christ’s speaking here is dated. He is brought down and near to death. The Father is in glory. With him there is more than here with Christ. This is briefly stated here. After all, at the moment this is also true. The Father is greater than the Man who now steps forward to experience utter fright and in order to die. Therefore, it means joy to the disciples that Jesus goes beyond staying-with-them. In this way John 14:28 is an expression along the way, and not a metaphysical formulation.

These six examples show that there are several concentric circles within which the meaning of the text is moving, and that the proper understanding always moves from the smallest, closest circle, to the wider circles — right up to the final limit: the totality of the book.

Is hermeneutics a sacred object?←↰⤒🔗

In what has been discussed so far, nothing has emerged that would not apply in its own way to every reading of texts, or productions by authors. But can we not speak of a special hermeneutics in regard to the reading of the Bible? It is often claimed that there is a “sacred hermeneutic” — a special rule that applies only to the reading of the Bible.

Dr. Greijdanus, and others with him, consider the general hermeneutic to be also appropriate with the Bible, but they assume that a special, sacred hermeneutic is now added to it because God’s intentions are greater than those of men. Recognizing God’s intentions in the text, therefore, also requires special and sacred rules. These need to be derived from Scripture itself.

Certain rules for reading the Bible are then ranked as belonging to this special hermeneutics, such as “compare Scripture with Scripture,” or “take into account the differences in dispensation,” and so on. The correctness of these guidelines cannot be disputed. However, it must be doubted whether we should speak here of a special and sacred hermeneutic. In fact, these rules are not all that unique. In every larger literary unity it is true that one has to compare text parts with each other and that it makes a difference in which period of the described history a text part would be read. Also, accepting the Bible as a complete unit is nothing more than applying the general rule that a book should be interpreted according to its own pretensions.

More important is the fact that the application of this general rule is not the same as the application of the general rule and of all the reading rules connected to it: in other words, that in the case of the Bible it has a special implication. The Bible can only be what it seeks to be when there is a God who by his Spirit, over a lengthy period of time, has moved people to write the parts of this book. This implication is distinct, however, from the implication inherent in accepting the unity of Barth’s Church Dogmatics. In the latter case, we need to consider the possibility that one human being could have produced such a comprehensive production in a normal human lifespan. It may surprise us, but it is conceivable. It remains, however, measurable in human terms. But when we read the Bible as a book we have to implicitly imagine that God exists and spoke and inspired; this is a representation that asks of us to no longer measure the book by human measures or standards. In theory, even an unbeliever could imagine this implication and work with it hypothetically, as it were. In the practice of this fallen world, however, there are many direct obstacles in the human heart to accept God, his existence, and his speaking. Here the sinful will of man acts as a distorting device on our mind and impedes the reading. This leads one to get rid of the normal reading glasses, so as not to read what one does not want to read. Right up front one refuses to accept the claim of the book of the Bible. As a result, the reading will fail — not because the reading rules are special, but because the book is special. That is why I believe that it is appropriate to speak of “Holy Scripture,” but not of “Holy (or ‘sacred’) Hermeneutics.”

Does this now imply that we are shifting the emphasis from the sacred rules to the sacred reader? Are faith and regeneration, by which Scripture is being accepted as holy, now the substitute for a holy hermeneutics? On this point, confusion can be avoided only when we carefully observe a distinction here. That is the distinction between accepting the self-presentation of the Bible and accepting the entire faith content of this Bible. The former, the acceptance of the Bible as a unity, is not a consequence of regeneration, but of an unbiased approach to a literary object. Although in practice man is absent here, he could still come to accept this without faith as a working hypothesis. However, we need to distinguish this from the acceptance of the content: the Christ of the Scriptures. Without regeneration there is no one who will bend the knee before him. However, precisely because there is a distinction to be made here, it is possible that in the hands of the Spirit the Bible becomes the means of regeneration. The Bible does not open up only after one already believes. But neither is it the case that the Bible is asking for nothing at all. Right up front, the book at least demands a willingness to accept a truce in relation to God.

Some current distinctions←↰⤒🔗

To conclude this section we briefly discuss some common distinctions in Reformed hermeneutics or dogmatics.

Often a distinction is made between the “auctor primarius” (first author) and “auctor secundarius” (second author). The human authors of the Bible are placed under the first, i.e., the divine Author. The disadvantage of this distinction is that twice the word “auctor” (author) is used, thus giving an opening to a subsequent discussion regarding the relation between the divine and the human factor. It may seem as if two separate components come together here, which now need to be separated from each other. The author is the person responsible for the meaning of the text, for the intention. There are authors today who employ the services of ghostwriters, people who elaborate or give better shape to the intended text. However, a ghostwriter is not a second author. The Bible also has only one author: the Spirit of God. He did engage people in this process and empowered them, but these people do not have a partial claim to the rights of an author. This does not mean that they were inspired in a mechanical way and ended up as audio recordings. However, the rejection of the notion of “mechanical inspiration” does not also lead to such a form of “organic inspiration” that the human authors now become a factor next to God. At the level of the language that was used, the style, any time-determined forms of expression, and idiom, one can clearly see that God did not “dehumanize” the authors of the Bible. But when prophets ask themselves to what time their words are actually referring (Daniel 12:8-13; 1 Peter 1:11-12), it is clear that the intent of the text is exclusively God’s intent and that we can only distinguish between the divine Author and the human servants.

Another distinction that is made relates to the “historical authority” and the “moral authority” (respectively, “auctoritas historiæ” and “auctoritas normæ”). Not everything in the Bible is authoritative on the same level. The fact that Elkanah had two wives is not a commandment to be imitated. However, the law, “you shall not steal” is more than a word once spoken in the Sinai desert: it is a commandment that applies to us as well. However, this distinction may be made with many books, even without a theologian’s Latin. It also applies more to Bible verses than to textual units in Scripture. The exegete always needs to determine what purpose a section of the Bible serves. It will then become apparent whether the section read intends to be informative, affective, or prescriptive — or all three. The distinction discussed here is therefore not a fictitious aspect, but it is not useful as a rule for reading, partly because there are more aspects to a biblical text than merely the historical and the moral sides. The distinction is useful, however, for analyzing certain biographical use or misuse of the Bible.

A term that receives much attention is “analogia fidei.” It originates from Romans 12:6 (“prophecy in proportion to our faith”). This verse indicates that prophecy is not an end in itself but that it serves the faith that has been given to the church. Thus, the exegesis needs to support the faith that God gave and it cannot conflict with it. This guideline is further broken down into “analogy with Scripture,” “analogy with faith,” and “analogy with the doctrine.” Although Dr. Hepp intended to develop a threefold division, most people opt for a twofold division. It is also difficult to maintain a sharp distinction between the “substance of faith” and “dogma”. We do not need to have much difficulty with the term “Scriptural analogy.” It indicates nothing more than that the Bible is a book in which the parts are to be explained in relation to the whole. The term “analogy of faith” partly coincides with this. The content of the Bible is also the content of our faith. Faith-analogy then is a more synthetic approach to the same matter that is understood in the more analytical term “Scriptural analogy.” Insofar as the term “faith-analogy” refers to faith as we confess it — the confession, the credo — it coincides almost exactly with “dogmatic analogy.” Is this, however, a good rule to follow for exegesis: that is, to stay within the confession, the dogma of the church? It may seem as if human formulation, a reality outside the text, is now being imposed on the reading of the Bible in a restrictive manner. However, this is an illusion. The confession only mirrors the light of Scripture. Anyone who wants to keep in step with the Bible must also keep in step with the confession. There is only this difference: in case of a real and irreconcilable conflict between the two, the Bible has absolute precedence and confessional change will be needed. As a rule with derived authority, however, the rule of dogmatic analogy (or faith-analogy) does serve an important function. It makes it possible to go to work with the Scriptural analogy. It expresses in concrete terms what the church believes. For many centuries the church has prayerfully read the Bible, contending for the truth of God’s Word, and has summarized the doctrine in a confession. This is both a good starting point as well as a checkpoint for the individual reader: not to start reading against one’s better judgement, but to be preserved from a short-sighted pedantic attitude. We are reading in communion with past and present saints.

4. Blind Spots in our Reading←⤒🔗

After the first three excursions on the object, the nature, and the conditions of exegesis, we will take a look at some examples of obstacles to a proper exegesis. We classify these under the heading of potential “blind spots.”

Temporal restrictions as a hermeneutical a priori←↰⤒🔗

The first phenomenon we identify occurs on a large scale today. Various people regard the Bible only as a time-bound product of earlier generations and they conclude that in reading the Bible one encounters nothing but out-dated statements of faith from the past, difficult to apply to today’s realities. They claim this while the Bible itself, on almost every page, clearly seeks to go beyond the time of the Bible writers and wants to have meaning until the end of time. Why can these people no longer read this lasting meaning in it? Because, when reading the Bible, people raise the incorrect and distorted contention that texts from an earlier time are inevitably time-bound and have a diminishing value. We call this a slanted position, because it is certainly not normal when works of Plato, Confucius or Karl Marx are read. The normal thing would be to let the texts themselves do the talking and then to inquire whether or not these texts transcended their time of origin. It is wholesome to work this way with the Bible as well. We will discover then that the Lord Jesus did not limit himself to soul care for his contemporaries, but that he spoke many words and did deeds that sought to have general and lasting meaning. An unbeliever, in evaluating what he reads, may say that he does not want to accept that meaning. However, it is nothing but a phenomenon of spiritual sickness to make such a value judgment about the content of the text, applying a hermeneutical bias in reading the text.

It is certainly true that there is much about the Bible that is determined by its time of origin, even if it were only the languages that were used. But there is more to mention here: the relationship to daily life in that earlier time, the connection with ancient history, the interfaces with cultures and religions. The Bible is not a timeless book; it is not a collection of graphic symbols devoid of language. This also means that the Bible reader may need help. He is often unfamiliar with the language and the time of the Bible and therefore understands the framework of the text less well. This does not imply that the meaning can only be unlocked through auxiliary sciences such as archaeology, linguistics, the history of countries and cultures. However, it does mean that we cannot do without them in order to refocus the image. Without this knowledge the picture may become blurred and misunderstandings could occur. In our Western culture we all have a large dose of this kind of prior knowledge readily at our disposal, but a missionary church in Africa has less of it. These are gradual differences. To ignore such auxiliary sciences, however, runs the risk of becoming guilty of an increasing loss of focus.

These auxiliary sciences cannot possibly be used to characterize the biblical text as a “product of a bygone age.” They serve more to add colour to the texts as spoken in that time.

Something else should be added in this regard. The parts of the Bible were not only created in different time periods, they also have their own historical context in so far as they were spoken in an ongoing history of revelation. This history of revelation (“historia revelationis”) is the closest historical context for the biblical parts. Events in German history certainly need to be placed against the background of European history, but first of all they must be placed within German history. Likewise, biblical passages certainly need to be placed in the framework of their time, but first of all they must be placed in the light of God’s history with his ongoing revelation.

For example, when adultery is punished with death in the Old Testament, it is desirable to examine how it was punished in the countries around Israel. We can then have a better understanding of whether the punishment came across as severe, mild, or self-explanatory to the first readers. However, it is certainly also necessary to see this punishment in the light of what God had said earlier about marriage, namely in Paradise. A man shall hold fast to his wife. This word from Genesis 2:24 is primarily decisive for the punishment of adultery in Israel. Furthermore, it should be remembered that the nation of Israel was forged together by God at the exodus from Egypt into a nation, in which its own administration of justice is paramount. This situation of revelation explains the form of punishment, the sanction of the death penalty. Perhaps the legislation of Egypt and Assyria can shed further light on whether the measure of punishment was remarkable or not. When, however, we do not hear of the stoning of adulterers in the Christian church in the New Covenant, this is not related to the temporal nature of the biblical penal commandments, but to the fact that God in his revelation has progressed from a national-assembled church (Israel) to a church gathered from all nations. The church no longer practices a civil criminal law. Seeing that the church did this in Israel on behalf of God, the abiding meaning of the criminal law still stands: an adulterer is guilty of death before the God of Paradise! Therefore we also read in Revelation that the sexually immoral, the murderers and idolaters are outside (Revelation 22:15).

A much-cited example concerns Paul’s instructions to the slaves. Was it not a time-bound reality for the apostle to call upon slaves to submit? And in the same breath many add that similarly, Paul’s words about the relationship between men and women are time-bound. However, one then overlooks the fact that these last statements are based in creation and in the history of the fall, while in the commandments addressed to slaves no further legitimation of such slavery is offered, so these are thus actual orders that connect with the present and with time-bound relationships. Also in this last case, however, more can be said. Paul speaks against the background of the Old Testament in which slavery was already abolished in Israel, and he addresses the masters in a way that puts dynamite under any exploitation of the existing lord-slave relationship. It is also evident from Philemon that within the Christian circle he considers the possible release of a slave, and at least pleads for brotherly relations. Correctly one does not regard these instructions for the slaves as a commandment to own slaves. With individual slavery skipping into disuse, Paul’s time-bound statements are not yet out of date. The apostle did not command slaves to be submissive simply because that was the only way to survive in their situation, but because the new relationship to God in heaven also places the earthly work-relationships in a new light. By analogy this also applies today in employer-employee relationships.

A third example concerns the Sabbath commandment. The commandment to rest on the seventh day has something ceremonial about it, which was removed when Christ, resting in the tomb, completed this seventh day. But it also has something permanent now that the Saviour sets aside the first day of the week for gathering and fellowship and praise. It is also difficult to assume that the day of rest for man and beast would be taken away from man by Easter. The actual day may have shifted from last to first, but the foundation of it, the basic idea, remains. It is therefore not right that the Sunday is respected less and less as a day of rest. This day still retains its referential function to the coming rest that remains for the people of God. Hebrews 4:9 precludes us from neglecting the aspect of rest of this day of worship as out of date and belonging to the dispensation of the Old Testament. The fourth commandment with a day of rest on the seventh day is determined by the redemptive-historical development — but it is not time-bound.

Through careful reading an exegete needs to determine time and again which elements of a section of text are time-bound and which have a permanent value. However, he would be staring at a blind spot when in his reading he assumes a priori that everything in the Bible must be time-bound.

Extra-textual data as a preliminary hermeneutic←↰⤒🔗

A second disease symptom that we observe in the matter of Bible reading is that people tend to strongly overestimate the modes of speech that are related to the current worldview. The Bible, speaking of the rising of the sun, is said to be outdated in our day and age where we have been taught the theory that the earth rotates around the sun. One forgets, however, that the Bible is not speaking of a sunrise on the basis of some (by now outdated) scientific model, but on the basis of general human observation. In this regard the Bible is in no way any more dated than modern man when he — convinced of a rotating earth — still keeps referring to sunsets. Also in ancient times there were models, comparable to our model of a rotating earth around the sun. These models were not constant then either. In addition to a geocentric model, a heliocentric model had been developed as well. We do not find a preference for either model in Scripture. The Bible uses the language of perception, which remains current for people of about six feet tall.

Are there then no conflicts with much that science has now discovered? Does the modern worldview not determine the meaning of the Bible in our time in a limited sense? Is Genesis 1 still possible today? In answering this question we should not let ourselves be guided by a reactionary model. It is certainly true that the possibilities of meaning of a text are partly determined by extra-textual possibilities. The sense of the expression “the man changed colour” is strongly limited by the knowledge that a human being as a rule does not shift toward the colour green. When Paul is sailing from Miletus to Caesarea, we know that it must have taken more than half a day. When reading texts, a continuous exchange takes place with our knowledge of known, verifiable realities. However, there is a limit: that when the text meaning resists limitations from reality or science, the text takes precedence. Without further explanation, I may assume that a prophet or apostle would have eaten regularly over a period of forty days, for otherwise he would have died. However, when Elijah travels for forty days and nights on a single meal, and the text emphatically states that he did not use any additional food (1 Kings 19:8), it is not fitting for me to say that the text cannot mean this because no one can travel for 40 days and nights without fresh food. However, it is fitting for me to say that either the food must have been extraordinary, or that God caused an exceptional work in Elijah.

When an exegete no longer has the openness to read into the text something completely unexpected and, according to his scientific idea, completely impossible, he runs into a blind spot in his readings.

The standstill of the sun at Gibeon and of the moon at Aijalon might seem unimaginable and unrealistic even to modern man. Indeed, the implications of such a stoppage in the heavenly bodies are so great that it is actually inconceivable that the world could ever go on again after that phenomenon. Exegetes who now go on to say, however, that it occurred only “by way of speaking” do serious injustice to the textual intent of Joshua 10:12-14. It is an overestimation of one’s own extra-textual facts when one starts to force the text with such natural laws. They explain what the book of Joshua would have meant to say and then shrug their shoulders. That too is an overestimation of one’s own insight into what is possible, but at least this insight does not creep into the hermeneutics as a condition or rule for reading the Bible.

The exegete should always carefully examine the extent to which the text allows for further delineation on the basis of extra-textual data. However, he also needs to have an open eye for those moments when the biblical text does not allow itself to be limited and, on the contrary, exposes the material we are given as not generally valid. It is a good practice to clean one’s reading glasses regularly, but we should not simultaneously put an eye patch over our eye.

“By the scopus (orientation) alone” instead of “by Scripture alone”←↰⤒🔗

A third symptom of illness occurs when one can only detect the so-called scopus or “orientation” when reading the Bible. The term “scopus” indicates the main idea.¹⁰ The Bible as a whole has an overall target: to increase the honour of God by saving sinners and teaching them a holy life in this world. The Bible was not given for the primary purpose of compiling Bible crossword puzzles.

In the same way, each section within the Bible has a certain focus or scopus. The story of David and Goliath has as its target to reveal how the LORD delivers through faith alone and not what giants used to look like.

Unfortunately, however, this concept of the scopus is too often used to dismiss the rest of the text — as if the proposition that man lives primarily by the beating of his heart would serve as an excuse to chop off his arms and legs. That, however, is what is happening in general with the Bible.

People may say, “The Bible is not a scientific handbook.” Obviously this is true. But then in the name of the redemptive-historical focus of the Bible on the progress of salvation, one commits the error of concluding that the Bible can therefore have no meaning for science either. This is a proposition we would shudder at in other cases. As if someone’s private correspondence does not sometimes provide decisive material for historiography. As if an old travel log might not incidentally help medical science to discover the forgotten effects of a certain herb. There is a great deal floating along on the current of the river! There is a great deal in the Bible, of which we do not say that it constitutes the scopus, but which is still included in it and is also true.

We cannot do without this extra information — first of all, not in our exegesis. If Goliath were not a giant and giants did not exist in those days, the scopus of this story does not stand. And furthermore, we cannot ignore these data in our extra-biblical processing either.

In regard to this last point two dangers confront us. The first is that because of the focus on the main target one becomes blind to some Scriptural data that are also of significance for linguistics (the confusion of tongues), ethnology (the presence of giants, the descent of Shem, Ham and Japheth), historical science (the period before the Flood), and so on. A second danger, however, is that because of the desire for a fully Christian model for one of these sciences, one forgets the main idea of a portion of the text and begins to ask too many questions about the details. A biblical psychology, geology, linguistics, and so on, cannot be founded on scarce and incidental biblical material, which more or less incidentally comes along in text passages. We do believe that these data should be understood as having authority, but then more in a controlling sense. Any science that comes into conflict with the biblical data turns out either to be wrong or to be open for correction. A geology that aims to base a statement of truth about the age of human history on its models and which then comes into conflict with the creation of heaven and earth in six days, and with the creation of Adam and Eve as the progenitors of all humanity, crosses the line. For a Christian, this would serve as an alarm signal and he would need to check where a mistake has been made. The same is true for the political scientist or polemicist. When, on the basis of his analyses of the balance of power, he arrives at a moral statement about the permissibility of weapons that do not carry the risk of killing innocent people and defoliating forests, but which do so as a condition of production, then there is a clear conflict with what Scripture teaches about the right of governments to punish the wicked and to protect the innocent. Again, a warning signal is sounded. We are not finished with this. A banner against nuclear weapons is then a too easy and biblicistic solution. But we are called to do proper analysis: Where did we go wrong in our polemic or in our Western culture as a whole?

An exegete always needs to carefully establish the main meaning of the text and the functions of all its parts. His eyes, however, cloud over when he is looking only through the glasses of the concept of the scopus. A total reading blindness is often the result. In our generation some people have started to confine themselves to the so-called scopus of the Bible, while now they actually have lost sight of its relevance for today, and only regard it as “yesterday’s book.”

5. Reading Involves Speech Lessons (The Enlightenment by the Holy Spirit)←⤒🔗

The Bible is not a closed book. The book lies open in human languages. The Bible reader, however, will need the guidance of the Holy Spirit so that his or her will is made ready to read it honestly and also to accept what is being read.

We should not isolate this guidance by the Holy Spirit from other areas of study. When God leaves us to ourselves we can also do a lot of mischief with the book of nature, creation. Wrongly, little is said about the need for philologists and geologists, chemists and biologists to pray for the guidance of the Holy Spirit. As if we do not need a Guide in that area! Our world development proves otherwise!

The motto of the University of Utrecht applies to all areas of study: Sol iustitiae illustra nos (Sun of righteousness, enlighten us)! The Spirit of God, who is at home in the world and in the Bible, has to lead us in our research, our inventions, our thinking, our combining, our contemplations and our conclusions. There is no wholesome future for activities that are not prayerfully undertaken. This also applies to reading the Bible. This is how — not in an isolated way — his prayer for God’s Spirit in our Bible reading also should not be misunderstood as if the Bible were a closed book by itself. All of the gates are open in creation and in the Bible, but how shall we now find our way?

The Bible is given to us as a book so that we will learn to speak, to confess, and to sing. Anyone who reads the Bible and remains an immature Christian has not read properly. Sometimes we may hear people utter all possible exclamations when reading the newspaper. The Bible is even much more amazing. One may expect to hear something from people who are reading the Bible. The Spirit teaches us to speak! And that brings healing. Much negligence in reading and much weakening in exegesis started where reading was neglected. Sure, people were still reading but they did not believe what they read, or did no longer want to take a stand for God or were ashamed of much in the Bible. But those who no longer know how to speak will also shy away from reading. God has called us out of the darkness so that we might proclaim his great deeds. The Bible is the scoresheet. Our reading glasses should be wiped clean. But above all, we need to open our mouths now to stay in shape as readers. Then the one voice will support the other in the church choir. Together with all the saints we thus understand how great is the mystery that was given to us in Christ in this cosmos.

6.  Psalm 69 as a Sample of How to Read←⤒🔗

Psalm 69 contains harsh statements. According to C. S. Lewis, verse 27 even exceeds the limit of what is permissible according to the law of Moses. There David prays, “Add to them punishment upon punishment; may they have no acquittal from you.” Is it even right to pray like this? And who could do so?

Who prayed this the first time? The caption makes this clear: It is a psalm “of David.” For the exegesis it is important to remember this nameplate at the opening of this psalm.

One does not have to go any further than the commentary by Dr. Ridderbos to discover already how nonchalantly this author’s name is being handled. The verses 34-36, where mention is made of “building up the cities of Judah,” is understood to have its origin at least from the period of or after the great exile. The rest of the psalm may be older.

A comment on the philological possibility that the Hebrew inscription le-david might mean that it belongs to “a series of David’s psalms” is of no help here. There are too many psalms that definitely must have been composed by David himself (3, 7, 18, 36, 51, 52, 54, 56, 57, 59, 60, 142) according to the further historical indications, and which also bear the same inscription (le-david). Moreover, Psalm 69 is not only formally quoted in the New Testament as a psalm of David (Romans 11:9-10) but also content-wise it is indicated as a psalm spoken “by the mouth of David” (Acts 1:16). On the basis of these data, we need to choose the meaning “(coming) from David.” Commentaries that do not take this into account immediately lose much of their authority.

This psalm is couched in terms of an extreme cry for help to God (vv. 1-3, a theme picked up again in verses 13-18) and an expression of confidence and expectation (verses 30-31; 32-36). The cry for help comes from someone who recognizes his own helplessness because of sin (verse 5) and who is afflicted by God (verse 26). God is called to save from enemies who take advantage of this situation (verse 4; 19-28). The salvation of the true people of God is paramount (verses 6; 32-36). The poet has laboured for God’s house and is now disrespected and despised by those close to him (verses 7-12).

Since the total existence of the people, or at least the existence as a people of God, is at stake and the enemies do not come from outside, but from within, one can think of the period in which King David, after a time of reformation, was pursued by his own son Absalom and his own counsellors. They had to leave Jerusalem and Judah. A reformation seems to have come to a dead end. Shimei curses. The waters have come to his neck. And David, who killed Uriah, knows himself a sinner also in the days when adversaries exploit his situation.

Because David stayed in the area across the Jordan as some kind of prince in exile (how solemnly the new entry into Judah is described in 2 Samuel 19:9-43!), it should not surprise us that in verses 34-36 the psalm sounds almost exilic. In those days it was also very much in question as to whether the righteous, who loved the tabernacle and the name of the LORD, would ever again be in possession of Judah.

This is a psalm of David—in the greatest crisis of his life, chased away by his family and mocked in Jerusalem’s gates. Some of his wives are left behind with his son Absalom. And David, out of breath, has disappeared across the Jordan River.

Still, it is a psalm in which the surprising element is not the cry for help. It is David’s motivation and his objective. The central focus is on God’s house and people, even now. David turns out to be a priestly king of the LORD.

Everything turns out well as David returns to Jerusalem. Is the psalm therefore outdated? Or does something remain open in the whole? Why did God squeeze this psalm out of David, if everything ends up with the good city of Jerusalem anyway? David himself did not and could not have earned the return. The psalm is not written as a song of vengeance from someone who “made his come-back.” Nor can we say that all of this was needed as punishment over David’s sin with Bathsheba. Because of his sins, he was indeed weak, but the situation as a whole is not a punitive situation. Nor is the psalm meant as a penitential song of someone who repents.

The openness of the psalm appears to be directed towards Christ. God establishes a certain pattern here in David’s life that only makes full sense in Jesus. The New Testament, therefore, has quoted this psalm quite often. Christ himself made it clear at the beginning of his ministry in Jerusalem that zeal for God’s house would consume him (John 2:17). David was in a predicament (Psalm 69:9a), and he could not go on like this. For him, this was a dead-end road. It remained a mystery to David why he had to go such a long way down this dead-end road. But now it becomes clear that this refers ultimately to Christ. He is without sin. He himself is the sacrificial lamb. He is able to turn the dead-end road of rejection by Jerusalem into a road to the heavenly Jerusalem. Jesus is pointing this out in John 2:17. And Paul follows this teaching when in Romans 15:3 he relates Psalm 69:9b also to Christ. Already earlier, in Romans 11:9-10, he had quoted from the same psalm, verses 22-23. David prays for the chosen Israel, but invokes punishment for the mockers in Jerusalem. Thus it was shown earlier that God’s people are not recognized by their passport, but by faith. And Peter quotes Psalm 69:25 in Acts 1:20: David was praying for the destruction of the tents in which the unbelieving Israelites stayed during their persecution of the king (see 69:26). Thus, the church may consider the ministry of the apostle Judas, the traitor, as desolation.

Returning now to verse 27, we see that this word was spoken in the situation of life or death for the church of sinners. The question is: who will be justified in this world—God’s friends or his enemies? From the fact that the enemies receive ample leeway and are able to mock as much as they please it is shown that the LORD is patient and kind. Does God’s patience now become the death of his friends? That cannot be true. Then God would be unjust. But there is no compromise left. It is either the enemy or the friend. If they stay together any longer, David will soon be finished. Therefore David pleads for God’s justice. “Adding punishment to punishment” does not have to mean “mark them as more guilty than they are,” but can mean, “look at the totality of their debts.” In a case of bankruptcy, a list of all debts is made, debt is added to debt, and thus the declaration of bankruptcy is made. That moment has now come. If not, David will go bankrupt in this world and with it God’ cause.

When read in the historical context, against the spiritual backdrop of God’s work in Israel, and watching for the openness to a fulfillment in later times, Psalm 69:27 takes on a meaning that does not contradict either the law of Moses or the love of Christ. When the souls under the altar are asking: “How long, O holy and true Ruler, before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth” (Revelation 6:10), they too do not receive the response that their prayer is out of order, but rather that it must keep in mind the measure of God’s patience. It will be heard, not because of a person like David who sinks away into the mire, but by the grace of the son of David who was buried in the grave.