Some Christians believe that the kingdom of God and kingdom of heaven are two different things. According to this view,  the writers of the New Testament were referring to a “millennial kingdom” (the kingdom of God)  or a “universal kingdom” (the kingdom of heaven).  But does the New Testament really make such a distinction? 

The expression “kingdom of God” occurs some 68 times in the New Testament, while the phrase “kingdom of heaven” occurs only 32 times.  Importantly, while “kingdom of God” is found in ten New Testament books, all the references to the “kingdom of heaven” occur in the Gospel of Matthew.

While the “two kingdoms” advocates suggest that Matthew was describing a “millennial kingdom” and the other Gospel writers were speaking of a “universal kingdom,” there is no biblical basis to presume this.  On the contrary, there is good biblical indication that the two expressions are not referring to two different things, but are two ways of referencing the same thing.

We see this in the words of Christ himself in his conversation with his disciples after he spoke with the rich young ruler who did not want to give up his possessions to follow Christ:

“Truly I tell you, it is hard for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of heaven.  Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God” (Matthew 19:23-24, emphases added).

Looking closely at these verses we see that Christ used both expressions –  the kingdom of God and the kingdom of heaven –  at the same time and clearly speaking about the same thing. 

Why then does Matthew usually use only the expression “kingdom of heaven”?  The answer is simply because Matthew originally wrote his Gospel to a Jewish audience that by tradition – in order to not break the commandment against lightly using God’s name –  often tried to avoid speaking the name of God and frequently substituted a euphemism.  As a result, the Jews frequently referred to the “kingdom of heaven” rather than the “kingdom of God”  –  using the one expression for the other in much the same way that we nowadays might say “The White House announced” meaning the President or his administration announced something.

The other Gospels usually used “kingdom of God” where Matthew used “kingdom of heaven” in recording their parallel accounts of the same spoken words.  We can see this by comparing, for example, Matthew 11:11-12 with Luke 7:28; or Matthew 13:11 with Mark 4:11 and Luke 8:10. In these and many other instances Matthew used the expression “kingdom of heaven” in deference to his Jewish audience, while the other Gospels used “kingdom of God.”

​For all these reasons, the New Testament makes it clear that the kingdom of heaven and the kingdom of God are exactly the same thing.

Asking and giving may seem like polar opposites to us, but when it comes to asking for something from God, or even giving something to Him, these actions have something in common in that they involve our relationship with our neighbor.  

Two verses in the New Testament show this fact. It’s easy to see one of them and then to think the other is just a parallel account or a slight variation, but the two verses make two distinct statements:

“And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive them, so that your Father in heaven may forgive you your sins” (Mark 11:25).

“… if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother or sister has something against you,  leave your gift there in front of the altar. First go and be reconciled to them; then come and offer your gift”  (Matthew 5:23-24).

Notice that these situations are not the same at all.  Mark 11 speaks of occasions when we are asking something from God – specifically forgiveness in this case – and shows us that we cannot receive this from God (and perhaps anything) if we ourselves are not willing to give forgiveness.   In Matthew 5, the occasion is one in which we wish to give something to God, but he makes it clear that he will not accept the gift (perhaps any gift) if we know others have something against us and we are not willing to accomplish reconciliation.

Taken together, these verses show how important right relationships with our neighbors are for a right relationship with God.  In both these cases,  God does not want to accept something - a request or a gift - from someone who is estranged from another, who is holding back something from another, whether we are holding back forgiveness or reconciliation. 

In the case of our forgiving others, nothing must stop us doing this, though God understands that in situations where others have something against us we can only do our best to reconcile with them. Sometimes, others are not going to accept our attempts  at reconciliation and there is nothing we can do about that, other than to pray for them. 

Normally, however,  in our relationship with God, whether we are asking or giving, if we hold back from our neighbor, God holds back from us. On the other hand, if we are giving forgiveness and attempting reconciliation where it is possible,  God does not hold back from us in accepting  that which we are asking or giving. ​

“The Lord has dealt with me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands he has rewarded me. For I have kept the ways of the Lord; I am not guilty of turning from my God. All his laws are before me; I have not turned away from his decrees. I have been blameless before him and have kept myself from sin. The Lord has rewarded me according to my righteousness, according to the cleanness of my hands in his sight” (Psalm 18:20-24).

At first sight, verses such as these might appear to show a self-righteous attitude and perhaps that David was proud of his own righteousness.  If you were to say the same things to your friends, you know how they would react!  But there are two factors to consider in looking at verses like these and understanding what David meant:

1) What righteousness means in the Old Testament.   First, we must understand that the concept of righteousness in the Old Testament is somewhat different from what we find today and even in the New Testament. In the Hebrew Bible the word sedek which is often translated as “righteousness” literally means “straightness” as opposed to “crookedness,” but it is usually used of the status of relationships rather than as a  measure of perfection. Under the Law of Moses one could be righteous by simply maintaining one’s relationship with God and others according to basic legal norms –  the term did not denote some kind of perfect purity or spiritual perfection.

Anyone who did not literally murder, cheat, lie to, or otherwise harm other individuals maintained a proper relationship with them and was therefore “righteous.” In the same way, those who, for example, did not take God's name in vain and who kept the Sabbath day maintained a basic relationship with God that was regarded as righteousness. This is different, of course, from the deeper expectations of the New Testament, which more frequently stress the spirit of the law, as well as the importance of  right motivation and the attitude behind our behavior.   

But according to the earlier concept of righteousness found in much of the Old Testament, when a person fulfilled the basic demands of his relationship with God and others he or she could be said to be “righteous,” and many of the times that David uses the term sedek, it is from this perspective.  David was righteous in Hebrew terms simply because he lived within the expectations of  the covenant community of which he was a part.   

2)  What David also says regarding sin and righteousness.  Even though David could see himself as usually being righteous in terms of how his society used the term, we find plenty of evidence that he was not proudly self-righteous.  We know that David sinned and knew that he sinned (Psalm 51, etc.), so it is clear he did not imagine himself perfect in our modern sense of righteousness.  We also know that David earnestly asked God to help him walk in the way of righteousness, as we see, for example, in Psalm 19: “Keep back your servant also from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me. Then I shall be blameless, and I shall be innocent of great transgression” (Psalm 19:13).

Finally, we know that beyond asking God’s help to walk righteously, David openly gave God the credit when he did do what was right!  In Psalm 18 –  the same psalm we quote above regarding David’s expressions of righteousness –  we also find: “It is God who arms me with strength, and makes my way perfect” (Psalm 18:32).  This same attitude of humbly crediting God with his righteousness is frequently confirmed in other psalms, as when David says: “You are my Lord, my goodness is nothing apart from You” (Psalm 16:2).

So, there is no indication in the psalms of David, or elsewhere, that David was self-righteous or proud of his own goodness.  It is clear that while David knew that at most times he did walk righteously according to how this concept was understood in his own culture, it is equally clear that he asked God’s help to do so and gave God credit when he succeeded.
 
* For further understanding of the psalms of David, download our free e-book Spotlight on the Psalms from our sister site here.

​In his first letter to the church at Corinth, the apostle Paul wrote: “Even if you had ten thousand guardians in Christ, you do not have many fathers, for in Christ Jesus I became your father through the gospel” (1 Corinthians 4:15). It has sometimes been claimed that in saying this Paul contradicts the plain teaching of Jesus: “And do not call anyone on earth ‘father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven” (Matthew 23:9).

Clearly, the teaching of Jesus is not against calling anyone’s human father by that name, but against using the term as a religious title –  as we see by looking at the context where he tells his disciples they are not to be called “Rabbi” (Matthew 23:8), “Father” (Matthew 23:9), or “Teacher” (Matthew 23:10). These were all elevated religious titles in Jesus’ time, and he continued by stressing that his disciples were to be servants rather than elevating themselves above others (Mathew 23:11-12).

So where does this place Paul’s comment? Was he not putting himself in a position inciting the Corinthians to call him “father”?    The answer is – not at all.  Just as the author of the book of Hebrews speaks of our human fathers (Hebrews 12:7, 9), the apostle John understood that there was nothing wrong with addressing human fathers by that name (1 John 2:13; etc.), and the apostle James knew that it was not wrong to refer to Abraham as his father (James 2:21).

What Paul says to the Corinthians is that he was fulfilling the role of a spiritual father to them. He addressed the Corinthians as  “my dear children” (1 Corinthians 4:14).  Two verses after telling them “I became your father through the gospel,” Paul speaks of his assistant Timothy in the same way: “For this reason I have sent to you Timothy, my son whom I love” (vs. 17).

Paul was certainly not telling the Corinthians that they should use the religious title “father” in their relationship with him, but rather he simply tells them how he feels he relates to them spiritually. Just as Jesus, after forbidding the use of father as a religious title, went on to say “The greatest among you will be your servant” (Matthew 23:11), so Paul frankly tells the Corinthians “What, after all, is Apollos? And what is Paul? Only servants” (1 Corinthians 3:5), and “This, then, is how you ought to regard us: as servants of Christ” (1 Corinthians 4:1).

It was clearly the furthest thing from Paul’s intention to set himself up and to encourage or incite the use of elevated titles for himself or other apostles.  As a true pastor, Paul guided and admonished his Corinthian congregation with a father’s concern and love and was moved to express his fatherly feelings to them in what he wrote.

In 1 Corinthians 4:15 Paul is not talking about the Corinthians calling him “father” – he was simply using a clear and apt analogy about his role as a spiritual parent to his flock. This is an identical situation to that which we find in the book of Ephesians where Paul is hardly inciting the Ephesians to call him “teacher” when he writes “You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self” (Ephesians 4:22).  

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Cultural background is often an important key to understanding the New Testament. We know that many aspects of the Jewish and Roman cultures in the time of Jesus shed light on details in the Gospels, especially.  So what does that kind of information tell us about the prayer or prayer outline (Matthew 6:9-13; Luke 11:2-4) Jesus gave his disciples: the Lord’s Prayer?

Perhaps the first things we notice when we look at the Lord’s Prayer compared to the prayers of the time of Christ are the many differences!  Jesus prefaced his instruction on prayer by saying that the Gentiles prayed with a lot of words (Matthew 6:7-8), and that was certainly true of the Romans who ruled first century Judea.  When Romans formally spoke or prayed to the Emperor, they often used all thirty or more of his titles.  Jewish prayer could be extensive, too. The Jews used six titles of God in daily prayers – the main one being “God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.”  By contrast, Jesus taught his followers to address God simply as Father.  A side note here, but another important difference,  is that in the Old Testament, “father” is used a number of times of God.  But it is always a descriptive – used either as a simile or a metaphor – never a term of address.  

The Jews prayed three times a day, often utilizing the “shema” of Deuteronomy 6:4-5 and other scriptures and a prayer structure involving eighteen benedictions or blessings consisting of (1) three blessings of praise, (2) twelve petitions, and (3) three concluding blessings of thanks.  Once again, Jesus simplified prayer for his disciples, with seven simple requests.

Despite these differences of approach, there are a great many similarities between the Lord’s Prayer and those of the culture of the time.  Some of the introductory phrases are similar to those of contemporary Jewish prayers; both mention the kingdom of God; and the request for daily bread occurs at about the same place in the middle of both Jesus’ prayer guide and the contemporary prayers of the Jews.

Nevertheless, the differences between Jesus’ prayer and those of the culture in which he lived are more noticeable than the similarities and show the truly unique aspects of Jesus’ prayer. One such distinctive aspect of the Lord’s Prayer is that of the implied responsibility that it places on the one praying regarding the petitions being made. Each petition asks for an act of God that presupposes our own participation in fulfilling the request.
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Petitions –  implied responsibility of the petitioner
Hallowed be your name – we must not dishonor it.
Your kingdom come  – we must work for it.
Your will be done –  we must strive to fulfill it.
Give us this day our daily bread – we must work for it.
And forgive us our debts – we must forgive others.
Lead us not into temptation – we must not follow after it.
But deliver us from evil – we must do what we can to escape it.
 
The participation of the petitioner in the various requests of the Lord’s Prayer may only be implied in the wording for the prayer, but its context – at least in Matthew –  clearly shows the responsibilities of the disciple in all of the areas of petition. This is perhaps the greatest difference between the Lord’s Prayer and those of the Jewish people of the time.   Cultural background shows a number of clear parallels between the two approaches to prayer, but the differences are major and significant.

​“From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force” (Matthew 11:12 ESV).

These words of Jesus recorded by Matthew are among the most difficult to understand in the New Testament – at least, as they are usually translated.  The uncertainty associated with the verse can be seen in the ESV’s footnote to “the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence” in which it suggests the possible alternative “… has been coming violently” – in other words, the very opposite situation. The NIV likewise footnotes “the kingdom of heaven has been subjected to violence” as possibly “been forcefully advancing.”

Most Bible commentaries are not particularly helpful in deciding between one or the other of these two approaches – either that Christ meant the kingdom of heaven has been treated violently or that it was advancing forcefully.  But either possibility still leaves the strange closing words of the verse: “and the violent take it by force.”

An entirely different meaning to this whole verse is possible, however.  When we look at the context of Jesus’ words, we see he was speaking about John the Baptist being a forerunner to his own ministry (Matthew 11:7-15). Quoting the book of Malachi, Jesus affirmed: “This is the one about whom it is written: ‘I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you’” (Matthew 11:10; Malachi 3:1).

If Jesus had the words of the minor prophet Malachi in mind when he spoke about John the Baptist, it is  possible that he could have had the words of another minor prophet, Micah, in mind also.  Micah wrote: “The One who breaks open the way will go up before them; they will break through the gate and go out. Their King will pass through before them, the Lord at their head” (Micah 2:13).

The context to this initially strange-seeming verse is one in which Micah says that God will restore the remnant of Israel and “… will bring them together like sheep in a pen” (Micah 2:12). So what the prophet says regarding “The one who breaks open the way” and their king, “the Lord at their head,” is to be understood in this context.  The word that Micah uses for “break open the way” is the Hebrew parats which can mean to break open violently or forcefully. Similarly, the Greek words translated “violence” and “the violent” in Matthew are forms of biasta meaning “forceful.” So in Micah’s word-picture the remnant of Israel are like sheep in a pen; the one entrusted with opening the pen will forcefully “break open” the gate of the pen to allow the sheep to exit; and they will then be led out to pasture by the shepherd who is their king.  

The Jewish scholars who studied these verses over the centuries have long interpreted them to represent the Elijah to come who would “break open the way” and the Messiah who would be Israel’s king, respectively. Jesus himself identified John the Baptist as the Elijah to come in this same section of Matthew (Matthew 11:14) and acknowledged the words of all the prophets (not just Malachi) relative to John (Matthew 11:13). 

Considering this background, if Jesus’ words in Matthew relative to the onset of the kingdom of heaven since the time of John the Baptist are understood in the light of the image in Micah, they would mean not that “The kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force,” but that the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully opened  (like the “sheep pen”) by John the Baptist, and those who are taking hold of the kingdom are those who are forcefully breaking out (like the sheep following their messianic king). 

Perhaps the best way to see this connection is simply to read the two sections of scripture in Matthew and Micah, slightly paraphrased, side by side:

“This is the one about whom it is written: ‘I will send my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you… From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has been forcefully opened, and those who take hold of it do so forcefully” (Matthew 11:10, 12, paraphrased). 

“The One who forcefully opens the way will go up before them; they will forcefully go through the gate and go out. Their King will pass through before them, the Lord at their head” (Micah 2:13, paraphrased).
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We have no way of knowing for sure if Jesus also had the words of Micah in mind when he quoted Malachi relevant to John the Baptist, but there is no doubt that the two minor prophets were speaking of the same eventual reality of the promised Messiah and the one who would forcefully open the way before him. 

It is common for some who reject Christianity to speak of the “clear contradictions” among the Gospel accounts of the resurrection (Matthew 28, Mark 16, Luke 24, John 20). The four accounts are frequently said to be inconsistent in terms of the witnesses to the event, its timing, and what the witnesses saw. We will look at these aspects individually and see how the issue of perspective affects them:

The Witnesses: Matthew 28:1 states that two women (Mary Magdalene and “the other Mary”) came to the tomb of Jesus, whereas Mark 16:1 states that there were three women (Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome). In Luke 24:10 we find three women named, but a different list of three than Mark gives (Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Joanna); finally, John 20:1 mentions only Mary Magdalene. Clearly, a number of women went to the tomb that morning, but it is likely that each Gospel writer mentions the particular women that he had heard were there. The fact that there is so much agreement between the lists is, in fact, a point for their authenticity rather than some kind of contradiction. John mentions only Mary Magdalene, likely because she was the first to arrive at the tomb. But in each case the perspective of the writer is all that is really different.

Timing of the Event: John 20:1 states “it was still dark” when Mary arrived at the tomb, but Mark 16:2 states it was “just after sunrise” when the women arrived. Once again, perhaps Mary Magdalene (who alone is mentioned by John) arrived at the tomb a little earlier than the others. Thus, from John’s perspective it was dark, whereas from the other writers’ perspective it was now light when the other women arrived.

What Was Witnessed: While Matthew 28:2 tells us “an angel” rolled away the stone sealing the tomb and sat upon it, Mark 16:5 says the women found “a young man” sitting by the tomb. Luke 24:4 says the women saw “two men,” and in John 20:1 it is not recorded that Mary Magdalene saw anything other than the moved stone. But Matthew does not say there was only one angel, just that one moved the stone. The “young man” mentioned by Mark was clearly how the women had described the angel. The fact that John does not mention the two "men" does not mean that they were not there – his account is written from the perspective of Mary Magdalene and it is possible that when she arrived at the tomb – somewhat before the other women – no one else was present. So this is hardly a contradictory situation.

As the theologian N.T. Wright has written, "It is a commonplace among lawyers that eyewitnesses disagree, but that this doesn’t mean nothing happened." (Surprised by Hope, Harper 2008, p. 33). Given four separate accounts of the same event, one would expect differences of detail to be remembered by the different witnesses, and differences in the stress placed on certain details by the four writers as they recorded the event from their own perspectives.

* Excerpted from our new free e-book, Scriptures in Question: Answers to Apparent Biblical Contradictions.  You can download a free copy here.

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The book of Job has such a powerful and memorable storyline that it is possible to focus on the story and miss its point.  At its heart, Job is a book of questions, but sometimes we do not see the questions for the story.

When we think of the book of Job we usually think of the narrative stream of events:  righteous Job; God giving Satan permission to afflict him; Job’s troubles; his discussions with his friends; God speaking to Job; and finally, Job’s restoration.  We see this story-stream, but we don’t always focus on the questions in the stream.  Yet when we look closely at the questions in Job, we can see the underlying lesson of the book much better because the questions in Job actually provide the structural “skeleton” of the story – they are the “bones” which support the body of the narrative, rather than the other way around.

Once the stage is set, the book of Job begins with questions: “Where have you come from?” (1:7), “Have you considered my servant Job?” (1:8), “Does Job fear God for nothing?” (1:9), ““Have you not put a hedge around him and his household and everything he has?” (1:10). These questions quickly propel us into the story proper, and it is here that Job begins to ask an ongoing string of questions that form the heart of the story.  Notice just some of these questions:

-  “Why did I not perish at birth, and die as I came from the womb?” (3:11)
- “Why is light given to those in misery, and life to the bitter of soul?” (3:20)
- “Why do you hide your face and consider me an enemy?” (13:24)
- “Why do the wicked live on, growing old and increasing in power?” (21:7)

When we put Job’s questions together in this way, we immediately see a clear pattern: Job asks “Why?”  over and over again.  In the course of the book Job asks this same question many times as he grapples with his situation. At the heart of Job’s many “Why?s” is the central issue of why God allows him to suffer undeservedly –  a question explicitly stated in his words: “I will say to God, Do not condemn me; let me know why you contend against me” (Job 10:2 ESV).   

Throughout the central part of the book, Job’s friends also ask questions –  all of which are aimed at Job himself.  But, one after another, Job – rightly - discounts the speeches of the three friends and returns to his unanswered questions of “Why?”

Finally, at the climax of the story, God himself steps into the scene with questions of his own –  introduced with the words “Brace yourself like a man and I will question you and you shall answer me” (38:3, 40:7).

Throughout four full chapters God then pummels Job with some seventy questions of his own, (Job 38-41).  When we look carefully at God’s questions, we see a pattern, also. God does not ask “Why?” Instead, God proceeds to ask Job  “Where?” “When” “What?” “How?” “Which?” and “Who?” along with questions such as “Can you…?” “Have you?” “Did you?” and so on.

But God is not really asking Job for answers to all these questions – he does not give him the opportunity to try to answer them. They are rhetorical questions God knows Job cannot answer.  But God’s questions make it clear that Job doesn’t know the answers to the when, where, what, how, and other aspects of God’s works.  The clear point of God asking Job every type of question other than “Why?” is that of a rebuke to Job: why does he question why God does what he does and allows what he allows, when he clearly does not understand any of the aspects of God’s works regarding the inanimate and animate elements of creation.  In other words, God asks Job:  Why question the “why?” of my will when you cannot comprehend the “How” and any of the other aspects of what I choose to do?  That is why, when God has finished questioning Job, the patriarch exclaims:

“You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’ Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know” (Job 42:3).

Job came to realize that if he is not qualified in any way to comprehend the basic aspects of God’s creation and sustaining of all there is, then he certainly was not qualified to pass judgment on how God directs the events of human lives or allows what he does allow.
  
This was Job’s epiphany, his moment of understanding at the conclusion of the book’s dialog when he says to God: “You said, ‘Listen now, and I will speak; I will question you, and you shall answer me.’ My ears had heard of you but now my eyes have seen you. Therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:4-6). Job realized that although he had not done wrong, he still had no reason to question God’s wisdom and judgment in allowing his suffering.
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The questions found throughout the book of Job reveal the true nature of Job’s situation and God’s purposes.  It is in the questions in Job that we find the answers to the underlying message of the book.

SCRIPTURES IN QUESTION:                                             
ANSWERS TO APPARENT BIBLICAL CONTRADICTIONS    
​By R. Herbert              

Every year new and even well-established believers are unsettled and in some cases turned from the Christian faith by claims that the Bible contradicts itself and so it cannot be the inspired word of God.  Our latest free e-book gives multiple examples of seven basic principles that can be easily applied to explain supposed inconsistencies in the Bible. Scriptures in Question is an important tool for answering your own questions and those others might ask you. 

As with all our free e-books, Scriptures in Question is available in multiple formats to read on almost any electronic device and there is no need to register or give an email address to get a copy - just click on the download link and enjoy.  You can download your free copy here. ​

Huldah was an exceptional woman. If you don’t recognize the name, don’t feel too badly, however – there is only one discussion of Huldah in the whole Bible. But that story was considered important enough that it was included twice – in the two virtually identical accounts of 2 Kings 22:14–20 and 2 Chronicles 34:22–28. Huldah lived during one of ancient Israel’s most pivotal times – during the reign of King Josiah who restored the worship of God after a disastrous period of national decline and idolatry.

Considering the role this woman played at such a crucial point in Israel’s history, it is amazing that we know so little about her. The Bible simply tells us that Huldah was a prophet who lived in the “New Quarter” or “Second Quarter” in Jerusalem and was the wife of Shallum, who was the keeper of the royal wardrobe under Josiah (2 Kings 22:14).

But Huldah’s reputation as a leading prophet can be seen in what happened when an ancient copy of a book of the Law (probably the book of Deuteronomy or the whole Pentateuch) was found in the temple during Josiah’s reign. This biblical book led Josiah to realize that his people had forgotten the law of God and broken the covenant they had made with him. The king then sent to Huldah to ask God’s guidance.

Josiah had other options. He could have asked one of the great male prophets, Jeremiah, Zephaniah, Nahum, or Habakkuk – all of whom prophesied during the king’s reign. But the biblical account shows that Josiah specifically commanded his officials to approach Huldah rather than any of the other prophets. Clearly, her influence was great enough to warrant the king seeking her opinion as opposed to that of the other servants of God.

Second Chronicles 34:23 shows that Huldah began her response by saying, “This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: Tell the man who sent you to me …”. There was no polite formality, just a command to “Tell the man ...” rather than “Tell the king …”. Huldah then proceeded to prophesy national ruin (a prophecy that was fulfilled some 35 years later) because of Israel’s turning from the law of God. There was no leniency in the message she gave, except in saying that Josiah himself would be spared because of his righteous attitude. This direct and unapologetic portrayal of the truth doubtless influenced the events that the Bible tells us then occurred. Josiah assembled the people of Jerusalem and then: “He read in their hearing all the words of the Book of the Covenant … and renewed the covenant in the presence of the Lord–to follow the Lord and keep his commands …” (2 Chronicles 34:30-31).

This was no small reform – it figures prominently in the history of ancient Israel – but Huldah’s influence upon the king and his reform cannot be minimized: she ranks among the greatest biblical figures who led by influence rather than by position.

According to Jewish tradition, Huldah, along with Deborah, was regarded as one of the principal female prophets of the Hebrew Bible. The Huldah Gates in the southern wall of the temple enclosure are often said to have been named for her, and there is another tradition that Huldah was not only a prophet, but also taught publicly in the Jerusalem school or “college” (Targum to 2 Kings 22:14); but we have no way to verify these traditions.

What we can know for sure is that Huldah’s influence clearly helped propel Josiah into action in accomplishing a huge national reform. Her leadership through influence is clear to see, and we can learn an important lesson from it.

Huldah’s reply to Josiah is a perfect illustration not only of the power of influence, but also of the leadership principle that bases responses to situations on the attitude and intent of those involved. Huldah made no blanket message of condemnation or of acceptance. She spoke kindly to Josiah because his attitude was right before God, but she unequivocally spoke out against the actions of the majority of people in Jerusalem and Judah who had turned from God. For those who lead in family and work situations, it is often much easier simply to hand out universal criticism or credit, to react overly harshly in some cases or without the firmness needed in others. Huldah’s reply to Josiah shows the kind of balance for which we should aim.
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Above all, Huldah’s story reminds us of a vital leadership lesson: that influence can be just as important as position, and that the greatest changes are sometimes brought about by the combination of the two factors. Even when we have no power to lead, we can often lead through influence.

* Extracted from our new free e-book, Lessons From Old Testament Leaders. You can download a copy without registration, email, or charge, here.

MannaBooks –  the free mobile phone app that offers the ability to both read and publish Christian books and devotionals.

A couple of months ago we ran an article on MannaBooks, the relatively new Christian e-book app for smartphones. Although it was a preliminary version of the program, we highly recommended the app for a great many reasons (read our full report here).

Now, Mannabooks has released an anticipated new version that corrects earlier issues, streamlines the user interface, and improves the app in many ways.  The app now has a pleasing welcome screen and quickly loads its home page with clear categories and fast access to the e-books offered. A search bar also makes searching by specific title or author possible.

New books are frequently being added to the MannaBooks catalog so if you already have downloaded this great app., be sure to update to the new build. And if you haven’t tried it yet, you should.  This is a great Christian e-reader and publishing app that belongs on your phone –  read our earlier review to see why. The current app is available for Android phones only, but an iOS version for iPhones is almost ready for release.
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You can download the free MannaBooks e-book app directly to your phone from the Google Play Store, here, and from the Apple App store soon.

​LESSONS FROM OLD TESTAMENT LEADERS:                          
PRINCIPLES OF LEADERSHIP FOR EVERYDAY LIVING  
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By R. Herbert             
 
The Bible is a book about leaders. More than 95 percent of its stories are about individuals who were leaders or who took the initiative when leadership was needed. This is especially true of the Hebrew Scriptures, and our new e-book looks at case studies drawn from the lives of numerous men and women of the Old Testament who displayed great leadership abilities and from whom we can learn much today.

Like all our titles, Lessons from Old Testament Leaders is available in three formats so you can read it on any computer, smart phone or e-book reader. And, of course, like all our e-books, this one is free and free from advertising. There is no need to register or give an email address to get a copy – simply download it here and you are ready to start reading!

The Greek philosopher Epicurus (342-270 B.C.) is said to have first formalized the argument that “proves” there cannot be a God who is both all-powerful and supremely good.  According to this argument, if there were a God who is supremely good, he would not want suffering to occur.  If he were all-powerful, he would use his power to eradicate suffering.
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Since the world in which we live clearly has much unmitigated suffering, Epicurus contended that God must either not care –  in which case he cannot be good; or else he is unable to stop the suffering –  in which case he cannot be all powerful.   In either case, Epicurus rationalized, such a being would not be God as we envision him, and such a being could not logically exist.

But there is a fatal flaw with this argument that Epicurus and many who have followed him did not take into account.  Although God has revealed himself as being all-powerful (Jeremiah 32:17, etc.), he has also revealed that he chooses to limit his power as he sees fit.  Put another way, God limits the application of his supreme power by the exercise of his other attributes.  The Bible unequivocally tells us that, despite his ultimate power, there are things God cannot do.  

For example, the apostle James tells us that “God cannot be tempted with evil” (James 1:13). Because evil is contrary to God’s nature, he will not allow himself to be tempted to do that which is not right.  The apostle Paul also tells us that “God cannot deny himself” (2 Timothy 2:13). This does not mean God cannot deny his own existence, but that he cannot deny what he states –  in other words, he will always fulfill his promises (see, for example, Titus 1:2). Finally, the author of the book of Hebrews confirms that “it is impossible for God to lie” (Hebrews 6:18).  Because truth is just as much an attribute of God’s nature as his goodness and power, he will not allow himself to lie. 

We cannot isolate one of God’s attributes from the others which are equally true.  The Bible itself gives us frequent confirmation of this fact.  When Job 37:23 states “The Almighty is beyond our reach and exalted in power; in his justice and great righteousness, he does not oppress” we have direct confirmation that God is all-powerful, but he limits the use of that power for the purposes of good. God balances his power with his goodness.

Epicurus’ argument also fails to take into account the fact that suffering and goodness are not always antithetical.  Because God is good, he grants us the freedom to make choices – and to suffer the inevitable consequences of those choices (1 Peter 2:20). He also allows us to live in a world where suffering can sometimes occur accidentally (Luke 13:4–5). This suffering does not contradict the goodness of God if there is a purpose for it and good will eventually come from it –  as we see in the fact that God allowed his own Son to suffer for a great purpose (Hebrews 5:8). While we may not know what good will come from a specific cause of suffering that we endure, God does promise us that there is a purpose for all of the suffering in the training ground we call life (Romans 5:3-4; 8:28; etc.).  Eventually we will see that our temporary suffering was a small price to pay for eternal happiness (Romans 8:10; 2 Corinthians 4:17; Revelation 21:4; etc.).   

Epicurus and those who have followed his argument did not take these things into account –  even as possibilities to be considered. This is why, although he did not condemn philosophy per se, the apostle Paul does warn against the kind of argumentation that is “hollow and deceptive philosophy” (Colossians 2:8). Philosophy and physical science are alike in that they can only reach accurate conclusions regarding those things for which they have all the necessary propositions or data.  That is why Epicurus was wrong, and why he did not prove that an all-powerful God cannot also be perfectly good.
 
* Also see our article “Does the Existence of Evil Prove There Is No God?”  

Two of our three websites (this one and TacticalChristianity.org) have blogs, and we usually publish a post on each of these two sites every week.  But in order to concentrate on production of new free e-books, we will be rotating the blogs for a while – a new post will appear on this site one week and on our other site the following week.  As a result, our latest blog post ("Biblical Body Language") appears today on our sister site.  There are, of course, hundreds of past posts that you can select from on this site (see the "Categories" links on the right side of this page).  But if you are looking for something new, our other site with today's blog is only a click away, here.

In his book, Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly on Prayer, C.S. Lewis makes an interesting observation about the things we  enjoy:
 
“I have tried ... to make every pleasure into a channel of adoration. I don’t mean simply by giving thanks for it. One must of course give thanks, but I mean something different …  We can’t – or I can’t – hear the song of a bird simply as a sound. Its meaning or message (‘That’s a bird’) comes with it inevitably—just as one can’t see a familiar word in print as a merely visual pattern. The reading is as involuntary as the seeing. When the wind roars I don’t just hear the roar; I ‘hear the wind.’ In the same way it is possible to ‘read’ as well as to ‘have’ a pleasure.”
 
This “reading” of things we enjoy, in addition to simply experiencing them at a neurological level, is what enables us to move beyond simply appreciating them, and even giving thanks for them, to actually seeing them as expressions of the kindness of the God who gave them as gifts to us.  That, in turn, allows us to appreciate God all the more, and our appreciation becomes praise – or, as Lewis, puts it, adoration.  The difference between gratitude and praise, between appreciation and adoration, is clear:
 
“Gratitude exclaims, very properly, ‘How good of God to give me this.’ Adoration says, ‘What must be the quality of that Being whose far-off and momentary coruscations are like this!’ One’s mind runs back up the sunbeam to the sun.”
 
Lewis’ poetic expression “One’s mind runs back up the sunbeam to the sun” is an apt one. It certainly makes for a clear analogy. We do not simply see the sunbeam: our mind –  if we encourage it to do so –  runs back to the source of the beam, the sun itself.  If that is our outlook, we see the sunbeam, but trace it back in our minds to the sun that makes it, and from there it is a short mental step, of course, to the One who made the sun and who is himself light (1 John 1:5).  We might say that what begins in observation ends in adoration.

But, while running up sunbeams makes for a good word-picture of this concept, we must learn to widen the principle in our own minds in order to express it in other situations.  The chances are good that after reading Lewis’ words you may think of them –  and God –  next time you see a sunbeam.  But what about when you next taste a refreshing glass of clean water, when you next curl into a warm bed on a cold night, or when you experience any other pleasure – great or small?

The key to implementing what Lewis described so well is in learning to react to physical neurological stimuli with one’s mind and not just one’s nerve endings.  And many pleasures, of course, are ones of the heart and mind, rather than simply feelings that we experience neurologically. But in every case, we need to learn the same response of “reading” the pleasure rather than just letting it flow past us. 

Once we begin to make the transition from only experiencing to also thinking about the things that please us and how they were designed to do so, it soon becomes a habit.  But we must guard the habit or other things will override it.  We can lose the habit like any other by not practicing it for extended periods of time. We can also lose it, as Lewis himself observed, by thinking about the gifts we experience in a selfish and grasping manner. Instead of saying “amen” to the gift, we can become possessive of it, always wanting more with “the fatal word Encore.” 

But if we are careful to avoid these and other possible pitfalls, we can make and maintain the habit of seeing God in his gifts.  We simply need to begin the process (if we have not already done so).  Did you experience something today – from the  moment you woke until now – that was clearly a gift?  Even if you appreciated the gift, did you follow the thought to its logical conclusion – from gift to Giver?  If you did so, you probably realize that God desires us to do that for our own sake as much or more than for his own. You already doubtless know that the more we look to the Giver, the more we actually come to appreciate the gifts themselves.  There is nothing like running up sunbeams to develop one’s joy in the light.

Every year countless people make “New Year’s resolutions” – setting goals ranging from cleaning out closets to getting more exercise.  Many people make resolutions regarding character issues, too –  resolving to stop doing things they wish to stop, or to do better at things they want to do.

Many Christians also make resolutions, of course, and like other people they find varying degrees of success in reaching the goals for which they aim.  But some think that making resolutions is not a biblically sound idea for Christians as they feel God has already given us his “resolutions” in the form of biblical admonitions and commands and we should just concentrate on trying to follow them.  Others feel that making resolutions encourages us to focus on our own human ability to accomplish spiritual goals.
 
But the Bible shows a number of God’s servants making resolutions –  ranging from Daniel resolving not to partake of the food and wine of the Babylonian palace (Daniel 1:8) in the Old Testament, to Paul resolving to go through Macedonia and Greece to Jerusalem (Acts 19:21) in the New Testament.

In fact, making resolutions can be an extremely important aspect of biblical living. Consider an example of this in the Book of Malachi:  “If you do not listen, and if you do not resolve to honor my name,” says the Lord Almighty, “I will send a curse on you, and I will curse your blessings. Yes, I have already cursed them, because you have not resolved to honor me” (Malachi 2:2).

In cases like this the Bible shows we need to resolve to follow God’s will whenever we come to see it in a given circumstance.  Also, each and every time we make a mistake and repent of doing something we have come to see is wrong, we need to be making firm resolutions to overcome the problem in the future. This kind of resolution does not in any way lessen our understanding of our need for God’s help, and the same is true of many New Year’s resolutions that involve spiritual issues.

Now, it’s clear that the Bible does not mention resolutions in the context of a new year, but new beginnings are psychologically among the best times to make resolutions and are among the times when they are most likely to succeed.  The great Christian writer G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936) doubtless understood this when he wrote: “Unless a … man made New Year resolutions, he would make no resolutions. Unless a man starts afresh about things, he will certainly do nothing effective.” Chesterton’s point is a good one –  humanly we often need the impetus of some event to resolve to do better in our lives – and the New Year provides just such an occasion with a “new beginning” to work from.

The main problem with resolutions, of course, is that so many of them do not last long enough. Humanly we so often begin with great dedication only to “lose steam” as we go along.  But as Christians that is exactly where we can ask for God’s help to continue to apply and to keep our resolutions. In fact, that is exactly what we find in the apostle Paul’s letter to the Thessalonian church: “To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power” (2 Thessalonians 1:11 ESV).

Notice that Paul prayed for the Thessalonians that God would help them fulfill every "resolve" or resolution for good. It’s a prayer we can pray for ourselves as we go into this coming year – and one that we can pray for each other, too. ​

During the course of the past year we published over a hundred blog posts here and on our sister site. The list below gives the 12 posts that were the favorites on this site, so check out the list to see how it compares with your own favorites and to see if you missed any...

God’s Favorite Verses

Who is the “Elect Lady” the Apostle John Wrote to?

Fulfilling Three Goals at One Time

Letters of Hope in the Book of Revelation

Male and Female:  The Purpose of Pairs in the Gospel of Luke

Daniel and the King’s Kitchen:  Applying Faith with Wisdom

The Tax Collector and the High Cost of Love

The Lord’s Prayer:  What We Ask and What We Do

It Begins and Ends with Patience

The Treasures of Cirta

 A Letter from God?

Asking for Wisdom Wisely

*For more favorites, check out the 12 most popular posts on our sister site TacticalChristianity.org in a few days ​– and look out for the new year's offerings coming soon!

​Every Christian knows that Jesus Christ was born in Bethlehem, but many do not know why.    There are actually two reasons why Jesus was born in that tiny Judean village, and both can be found in Scripture. 

First, it was foretold that the Messiah was to come from the house of David – to be a descendant of the young shepherd who became king of ancient Israel 1,000 years before the time of Christ. This was promised to David himself:
 
“When your days are over and you rest with your ancestors, I will raise up your offspring to succeed you, your own flesh and blood, and I will establish his kingdom … and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever. I will be his father, and he will be my son … Your house and your kingdom will endure forever before me; your throne will be established forever” (2 Samuel 7:12-16).

This prophecy could not have been completely fulfilled by David’s physical descendants, but only by a Messianic king who could rule “forever” (vss. 13, 16).  That is why in the New Testament it was foretold of Jesus:  “He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David” (Luke 1:32), and why, of course, Jesus is called the “Son of David” throughout the Gospels.

So the Davidic sonship of the Messiah was one reason for his eventual birth in Bethlehem – the place where David was born (and crowned) and his ancestral home (1 Samuel 17:12).   As a descendant of David, Joseph, the husband of Jesus’ mother Mary,  was required to travel to Bethlehem for a Roman census: 

“In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.)  And everyone went to their own town to register. So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David” (Luke 2:1-4).

But there is another reason for the Bethlehem nativity. The Old Testament Book of Micah contains a fascinating prophecy of what was to occur in the fulfillment of God’s promise of the Messiah:

“And you, O tower of the flock, hill of the daughter of Zion, to you shall it come, the former dominion shall come, kingship for the daughter of Jerusalem … But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are too little to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel, whose coming forth is from of old, from ancient days. ... And he shall stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord, in the majesty of the name of the Lord his God. And they shall dwell secure, for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth. And he shall be their peace” (Micah 4:8, 5:2-5).

This prophecy tells us that the Messianic ruler who would shepherd his people was, like David, to come from Bethlehem and that he would eventually reign “to the ends of the earth.”  But notice another detail.  The prophecy begins “And you, O tower of the flock ...” for which the Hebrew is migdal eder, literally “Tower of Eder.” This tower is first mentioned in the Book of Genesis.  It stood on the outskirts of Bethlehem  where  the patriarch Jacob’s wife Rachel (Genesis 35:18-19) gave birth to her son “Ben-Oni” (meaning “son of sorrow”), whose name was changed to Benjamin (“son of the right hand”).  In New Testament times, the tower was a watchtower used to guard the flocks of sheep that were pastured in that area.

The Jewish Mishnah (Shekalim vii. 4) indicates that sheep in the fields around Migdal Eder were controlled by the Temple in Jerusalem and were used to provide the animals sacrificed in the temple rituals.   A number of biblical scholars have pointed out that if the prophecy of Micah 4:8 was fulfilled literally, then Jesus may well have been born in some building in this general part of the outskirts of Bethlehem.  The word translated “manger” where the infant Jesus was placed (Luke 3:7) could also be translated as “stall” or any holding area for animals.

More importantly, have you ever wondered why the Gospel of Luke tells us that at the Nativity, angels appeared to shepherds? The heavenly host could have appeared, of course, to a group of soldiers, priests, travelers, or any other individuals, but we are told that they appeared to shepherds who were grazing their flocks in the area where Jesus was born (Luke 2:8-15).  If Jesus was born in the area of Migdol Eder, the area where the sacrificial lambs were born and raised, the shepherds would naturally have been the people present in that area.

But regardless of the details of its fulfillment, the intent of the prophecy of Micah is clear.  The promised Messiah who was the Lamb who would be sacrificed for his people (John 1:29) would also be their future Shepherd (Matthew 2:6).  We see this principle throughout the Gospels, which speak of Jesus in both his initial human and later divine roles – as both the Servant and the future promised King, the Captive and the future Warrior, the Judged and the future Judge (Matthew 25:32, etc.).  In every case, at his first coming Jesus fulfilled the lesser role, and at his second coming he will fulfill the greater role.
 
And there is a lesson in this for us.  As we read the Gospel accounts and reflect on the life of Jesus, we should look carefully at how he carried out the lesser roles he fulfilled as a human being.  These roles are recorded so that our present lives may be modelled on his – just as he promises to eventually share his greater roles with us  if we are faithful in the lesser ones we have now (Luke 16:10).

Jesus saw the signs –  as did many of the early Christians. Stone blocks mounted on the wall that divided the “Court of the Gentiles” from the inner courts, where only Jews were allowed to enter, proclaimed in Greek: “No foreigner may enter … the sanctuary and the enclosure. Whoever is caught, on himself shall he put blame for the death which will ensue.”

The text of these warning signs was preserved by the ancient Jewish historian Josephus, and two of the actual signs still survive today in museums in Jerusalem and in Istanbul – so there is no doubt about what they said or the threatened punishment for any foreigner who attempted to enter the temple.   The apostle Paul refers to this well-known “dividing wall” as a wall of hostility between Jews and Gentiles in Ephesians 2:14.  But was this the way the temple of God was originally organized with strict limits placed on Gentiles, no matter what their dedication to God?

The answer – which is somewhat surprising to many people –  is a definite “no!”  Although the Hebrew Bible states that only the descendants of Aaron could function in a priestly role within the temple (Numbers 18:7), there was no “Court of the Gentiles” in the original Tabernacle Israel was instructed to set up. Gentiles were permitted to pray and sacrifice to God in the same way Israelites did:

For the generations to come, whenever a foreigner or anyone else living among you presents a food offering as an aroma pleasing to the Lord, they must do exactly as you do. The community is to have the same rules for you and for the foreigner residing among you; this is a lasting ordinance for the generations to come. You and the foreigner shall be the same before the Lord: The same laws and regulations will apply both to you and to the foreigner residing among you (Numbers 15:14-16).

At the dedication of the first temple, in the tenth century BC, King Solomon prayed:

As for the foreigner who does not belong to your people Israel but has come from a distant land because of your great name and your mighty hand and your outstretched arm — when they come and pray toward this temple, then hear from heaven, your dwelling place. Do whatever the foreigner asks of you, so that all the peoples of the earth may know your name and fear you, as do your own people Israel, and may know that this house I have built bears your Name (2 Chronicles 6:32-33).

And the prophet Isaiah records the words of God regarding the Gentiles and the temple:

… foreigners who bind themselves to the Lord to minister to him, to love the name of the Lord, and to be his servants, all who keep the Sabbath without desecrating it and who hold fast to my covenant —  these I will bring to my holy mountain and give them joy in my house of prayer. Their burnt offerings and sacrifices will be accepted on my altar; for my house will be called a house of prayer for all nations (Isaiah 56:6-7).

By the third century B.C., however, the Jews began to exclude Gentiles from the Temple enclosure.  By the time of King Herod the Great (immediately before the life of Jesus), when he rebuilt the temple, Herod even had priests trained in masonry so that they could carry out the construction of the sacred precincts rather than the Gentile builders he had used in other projects (Josephus, Antiquities 15.390).

As a result of this distancing of the Gentiles, throughout the life and ministry of Jesus, foreigners were allowed only into the specially added outermost court of the temple –  the “Court of the Gentiles.”

This situation was doubly sad. The outer court was also where the animals that would be sacrificed were kept, and the noise, stench, and excrement of the many animals hardly made the court a place conducive to prayer.  Gentiles were permitted, if not encouraged, to donate animals for sacrifice in the temple, but Roman coinage was not accepted, and so money changers conducted a lucrative business exchanging the foreign currency for Hebrew coins which could then be used to purchase sacrificial animals (very likely at inflated prices).

It was this situation, of course, to which Jesus reacted so violently when he drove the money changers and animal sellers out of the Court of the Gentiles, quoting Isaiah in saying: “Is it not written: ‘My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it ‘a den of robbers’” (Mark 11:17). But while we tend to focus on Jesus’ words about the den of robbers or thieves, we may miss his equal stress on the fact that the temple of God was to be a house of prayer “for all nations” – for Gentiles as well as for Jews.   Jesus’ anger was clearly directed just as much at the exclusion and mistreatment of the Gentiles as it was at the financial gauging being perpetrated in the temple.

Perhaps it is not surprising then, that after the death of Jesus, when the temple curtain or screen blocking the view of the inner temple was torn in two by a great earthquake, Matthew’s Gospel (the Gospel originally written for a primarily Jewish audience) states that it was not a Jew, but a Gentile – the centurion who beheld Christ’s death – who was inspired to state:  “"Surely he was the Son of God!" (Matthew 27:54).   

The tearing of the temple curtain signified the opening up of access of mankind to God through the death of Christ, and the access was of course one given to Jew and Gentile alike.  With the granting of the Holy Spirit to the Gentles (Acts 10:44-46), God’s inclusion of non-Jews –  as was always his intent –  was made doubly clear.
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So it was that the apostle Paul could write of Christ (referring to the wall with its warning signs between the court of the Gentiles and the inner temple): “For he himself is our peace, who has made the two groups one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility” (Ephesians 2:14).  Although the Gentiles were excluded from the temple proper during the life of Christ, God’s intent was always to include all peoples.