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This week, I have had the great privilege of editing a series of Bible studies on the book of Hebrews. On the way through, I was struck by a profound new thought—or, as one of my colleagues helpfully pointed out to me later in the day, actually I had just read the Bible more carefully! (Isn't that where all the best thoughts come from?)

What was my startling, new discovery? For the first time, after having read Hebrews 6 nobody knows how many times in my life, I was struck by verse 3, a rather odd little verse. I realized that I have spent my entire Bible reading life skipping over verse 3. After all, it is short and fairly insignificant, and verses 4-6 are where the action is at. They certainly seem to contain all the juicy bits that are worth commenting on, right? I am not so convinced anymore. For those of you who haven't read it lately, let me give you the text of Hebrew 6:1-6.

Therefore let us leave the elementary doctrine of Christ and go on to maturity, not laying again a foundation of repentance from dead works and of faith toward God, ² and of instruction about washings, the laying on of hands, the resurrection of the dead, and eternal judgment. ³ And this we will do if God permits. ⁴ For it is impossible, in the case of those who have once been enlightened, who have tasted the heavenly gift, and have shared in the Holy Spirit, ⁵ and have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the age to come, ⁶ and then have fallen away, to restore them again to repentance, since they are crucifying once again the Son of God to their own harm and holding him up to contempt.

This text has, of course, been the source of all sorts of debate, and probably not a few unfinished Bible studies. I am not naive enough to think that I will suddenly extinguish all discussion on the subject by this post, and there are most likely others out there who have already seen what I failed to see. However, let me share my new little insight.

As is usually the case, I have always read the passage with the great debate going on my head, and so I have focused my attention on answering the question in my head without looking at what the author is actually trying to say. The first thing to notice is that the crucial verses about tasting the heavenly gift (vv. 4-6) actually begin with the word ‘for’. They are the explanation of something that has come before. Now, the next question is “Which particular thing is being explained?” I have always read it as explaining why he is moving on from the elementary things to go on to maturity. But when you stop and think about it, that makes absolutely no sense. Why would you say, “Let's move on from the basics to maturity because, once you have Christ and then let go of him, there is no way back”? (In fact, I have heard some people argue that if greater knowledge of Christ leads you to greater culpability, why not keep people in the dark? This is a somewhat unhelpful position, but at least it's a logical one.) I don't think that the ‘for’ at the beginning of verse 4 is qualifying verses 1-2 at all. What the writer is in fact qualifying is verse 3. Let me give you my little paraphrase, and then explain why I think that it's significant:

Let us leave behind the Jewish stuff about the Messiah (repentance, faith, washings, resurrection, judgement), and move on to maturity. In fact, this is exactly what we will do if God permits. (Why wouldn't he permit it?) Because it is impossible to bring someone back to repentance if they have truly grasped the new covenant truth about Jesus and gone back to Judaism, because their action has crucified Christ again and held him up to public ridicule.

The writer's point is this: I am going to take you beyond the Old Testament Messiah that you seem so interested in. (The temptation for the Jewish Christians all through Hebrews is to go back to their Old Testament religion.) In fact, the writer has been doing this, and will continue to do this, by showing how Jesus is the fulfilment of all of the promises of God—the one true priest who offers the one true sacrifice for sin for all time. However, the writer is acutely aware that it might be impossible to take people to the new picture of the Messiah delivered in Jesus. Why is that? Well, it is because God might not permit it. Why wouldn't God permit it? Because there is the terrible, but very real truth that you can't toy with God. If the readers have already accepted the new covenant Messiah and are now going back to Judaism, they will reach a point of no return with God. As verses 7-8 go on to say, there is a point where the field has only born thorns and is fit for judgement.

What do we make of all of this? Firstly, I want to point out that I think that there is a genuine warning here: if you take the passage at face value, it says that it is possible to have understood the gospel and rejected in such a way that makes someone permanently culpable in the eyes of God. This is a terrible reality, but not a surprising one. (It seems to me that Jesus says something similar in the parable of the four soils: people may grasp the gospel for a time, and then slowly walk away.) Secondly, I want to say that the knowledge of whether someone is in this place is a knowledge that is left up to God. The writer of the Hebrews isn't being asked to second-guess God's decision. This is particularly interesting in light of Hebrews 6:9ff. Presumably the fact that they accepted the gospel with such zeal in the first place would be a reason to wonder seriously about whether their recent desire to return to Judaism was an example of apostasy. The writer of Hebrews, even though he is aware of their zeal and their more recent coldness, goes on to keep preaching the truth about Jesus.

This brings me to my third point: what does the writer do with his knowledge that it is possible to spurn the truth permanently and stand under the judgement of God? He presents the fullness of Jesus as God's perfect gift to wash away sins and bring reconciliation, and he leaves the details up to God. If there are people who have genuinely grasped the gospel but have now rejected it, they will have to answer to God. But the preacher's job is to go on preaching the truth about Jesus. I reckon that this truth is profoundly helpful pastorally for those with Christian friends who appear to be walking away: our job isn't to second-guess God; it is to continue to preach the great truth about the ultimate King and priest prayerfully, and leave judgement up to God.

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With the new ESV Study Bible due for release in October, I took the opportunity to speak to the author of the notes on the Old Testament book of Esther, Dr Barry Webb.

Barry, how long have you been a student of the Old Testament?

I came to Moore Theological College in 1975 as a preacher of sorts; before that, I used to be a high school teacher, and did preaching on the side. So I wouldn't say I was a student of the Old Testament at that time, but I used to read it. I think it was really from my three years at Moore College as a student that made me a student of the Old Testament. It was Dr William Dumbrell, head of Old Testament at Moore College at the time, who sort of got me hooked. Then when I came on to the faculty here in 1978, I just taught whatever I was asked to teach—a mixture of languages, Old Testament, New Testament, with one or two other things in there. But gradually—and it was really under Bill's advice—he advised me to do more study in the Old Testament, and recommended that I pursue a Masters degree in Old Testament studies, and suggested a supervisor. So he not only taught me as a student but encouraged me further.

By the time I finished my PhD at Sheffield, Bill Dumbrell had moved on to Singapore, so there was a place for me to come back to Moore College in the Old Testament department. So I ended up actually succeeding my teacher. It took a little while for that to happen because John Woodhouse, who is now principal of the college, was lecturing as head of department, and then went back to parish for a time—at which point, I became head of Old Testament, which is what I'm still doing now.

What's the book of Esther about?

It's about the people of God, the Israelites, under threat, and, in one way I suppose, it's about anti-Semitism. It's the underbelly—the nasty reality—of anti-Semitism, and how God, who is never really obviously present in the book (there are a lot of suggestions that he is present but he is never directly spoken of as present)—how God moves through ordinary people and through the power plays of palace intrigue and the jealousies that people have for one another, and so on, to thwart an intent by this person called Haman to exterminate the Jewish people.

Now, the Persian empire covered the whole civilized world. So if Haman was successful, it would have meant the end of the family of Abraham, and so the end of the thread of salvation history that goes from Abraham to Christ. So you see the book of Esther is about God keeping his covenant people in existence until the final purpose of that is revealed in Christ, the Messiah.

In some ways, the book of Esther is also about courage in the face of adversity, because Mordecai and Esther both show enormous courage in the face of adversity. Esther in particular, I suppose, could have just ridden it out if she'd wanted to, but she chose to become involved in the fate of her people.

I think the message of anti-Semitism is one that the church needs to hear. The church has become embroiled in this at various periods in history, so there's a warning here, but there is a lot more to Esther, of course.

Tell us a bit about the flawed heroes of the story, Esther and Mordecai.

Esther and Mordecai are fascinating, they are brave, but they are not spotless. For example, Mordecai refusing to bow to Haman, which is really just (in Persian etiquette) showing respect to someone of higher rank. Mordecai really endangers all his people by his refusal to bow. So it's questionable whether it was wise to do that, or whether it was perhaps a hatred he'd harboured all his life. Perhaps he felt hatred towards people who were related to the Amalekites, the traditional enemies of Israel, and Haman was a descendant of these people. So we don't really know why he refused to bow, but he did refuse to, and so really triggered this attack by Haman.

And Esther is brave too, but the way she is able to go about saving the Jews is to take advantage of her beauty: she goes into a beauty contest, apparently without protest, so that she can gain the opportunity to see the king. Banqueting, wining, dining, sleeping with the king—all sorts of questionable behaviour is sketched out. In this way, she is a total contrast to the related story of Daniel, a man who even refused to eat the food the foreign king provided for his court! So she is very impressive, but she is not a lily-white heroine.

The Jewish people during the inter-testamental period even added a bit to the story of Esther, and this has been preserved in the Septuagint [the traditional Greek translation of the Hebrew Old Testament]. In these additions, whoever wrote them seems to have wanted to exonerate Esther from the charge of having broken the law and behaved immorally.

So one of the exciting and fascinating things for me was when I read the book of Esther, having questions about their behaviour, and then discovered that the Jews of the inter-testamental period had the same thoughts. It was a good example of a modern reader reading the same text, with my questions coming not out of my modernity or my Christianity; it was a real issue that arose for earlier readers too.

As a Christian, I didn't feel a need to whitewash the story at this point to show the individuals in a better light, or to excuse their flaws; it's because the story is really about God's faithfulness to his promises. And it's not just about God keeping his covenant promises to Israel, it is about him keeping his covenant promises for the good of all of us.

Also, the fact that God was hidden in Esther (he is never mentioned by name) means that the book seemed to be much more the world that I lived in, rather than the world of divine intervention: the parting of seas, feedings with manna, manifest outbreakings of prophecy—these things were rare in the period described by Esther. I don't live in that world of obvious, divine intervention either. I live in a world that is ruled by pagans (mostly)—people who don't share my faith—where miracles don't happen, at least in my bit of it. I found that the book resonated with my world strongly. The way that it encouraged me to see God in the ordinary cut and thrust of life was very encouraging to me.

You've said in your ESV Study Bible notes on Esther that it is a humorous book. Can you give some examples of what you mean?

Did I say that? I think it's a deadly serious book actually! But it's got some humorous things in it. It's a dark kind of humour because it's fun at other people's humiliation.

Haman is asked, “What should be done to the man whom the king delights to honour? ”, and he answers thinking that he is the one about to be honoured. But it's actually his enemy Mordecai, so Haman ends up having to parade Mordecai through the streets as the one who the king delights to honour!

Seeing a villain walk into a trap is funny in a slightly edged and cruel sort of way, I suppose. But I think we're meant to laugh. “He who sits in the heavens laughs; the Lord holds them in derision” (Psa 2:4). The people who oppose God are not the powerful people they think they are. We are invited instead to see the powerful people of the world as God sees them.

You also said in your notes on Esther 6:1–13, “Events now move so tellingly in favor of Esther and Mordecai that a presumption of God's providential involvement becomes unavoidable”. Can you say more about that? Can we read providence in our own circumstances of life?

Well, it's the number of times events unfold as they do. Things can happen. They can just fall out in someone's favour. But when you have a sequence of things that are all headed in the same direction, and when the beneficiaries are not powerful people (some of them can influence people in power, but they're influencing from the back, rather than the front), then there must be something more to this than just coincidence.

Then there are times when the characters in the story say there is more than just coincidence going on—for example, Haman's wife says, “If Mordecai, before whom you have begun to fall, is of the Jewish people, you will not overcome him but will surely fall before him”. She doesn't actually name God, but she sees that the force that determines what will happen is all powerful.

Esther acknowledges this too. She says, well, I'm going in to see the king, and she calls on her people to fast, which in the Old Testament is a form of prayer. She is admitting that this is now in the hands of God, effectively: “I want us to trust ourselves to God”.

So there are these hints of strange sequences of coincidence, premonition, and then more explicit kinds of activity that are meant to point us in the direction of God's hidden providence. Are we justified in seeing this? Yes, of course, because “we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Rom 8:28). God has our welfare at heart.

How can we know that in any particular thing today God is at work? Well, in one sense, I suppose we can't just by looking at events, but in the context of seeking to honour God and praying to him, when things do happen—things that we've prayed for—I think the proper thing is to make the generous assumption that God is indeed at work. It would be quite wrong to do otherwise.

When you're a believer, your eyes are opened to see God's hand at work. By faith you are connected to the creator of the world, and so you can see more clearly what he is doing, and thus you live differently as a believer.

What tips would you give for someone who is trying to preach through the book of Esther for the first time?

I'm not sure. I'm not sure I've preached from Esther myself, to be honest! I think I'd want people to see it in the context of the Bible story line, so that they'd see that the people of Israel are not just any people, but that there is a special history—a history of God's choice of Abraham and his descendants though whom God would reveal himself to the world, and through whom he would eventually bring salvation through Christ, the Son of Abraham.

So I'd want people to see that, although people have experienced suffering and, against all odds, they have been delivered, this is not just a general story of deliverance; it's in a different category. It is not just about rewarding people like Esther and Mordecai for being good or deserving—especially when we realize that, in some ways, they're not.

Would I try to preach bit by bit? I doubt it. Stories mean what they do as a whole, not as parts. Once you dismantle the story, you dismantle the thing that gives meaning to the events. I might just preach one sermon on the whole of Esther, and it would be about God being present for his people, working all things to their good. This doesn't just mean we sit back and wait passively, but that God works through our actions.

Maybe I would pick out one or two incidents to preach on separately—for example, the passage about Esther telling people to fast as a kind of symbolic way of placing yourself in God's hands. Fasting itself is not enormously significant, but it is a way of expressing total reliance on God—even laying down our life, if necessary, since bread is our sustenance. To give it up is to express dependence on God to rescue us. Fasting in Esther reveals a life of faith—a life of complete and utter dependence on God. So I think there's a sermon there. Then people would want to know about fasting in the Christian life, and then there would be things you could pursue in small group discussions and so on. I suppose if I thought about it more, I could find other little episodes. But essentially you want to preserve the message of the story as a whole in its context of the history of salvation—God honouring his promises to Abraham until, ultimately, they are fulfilled in Christ.

Thank you, Barry!

Barry Webb's complete notes on Esther in the ESV Study Bible, along with the text of Esther, can be downloaded free as a PDF . Find out more about Barry, and his books and academic interests.

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In our congregation, there are quite a few university college students. One of the students asked me the question, “Society today is very party-oriented. Is it a sin to get drunk?”. My friend Rob (a chaplain on the uni campus) is preaching through Isaiah at the moment, and he had some very helpful insights for me as I answered this question. I thought it might be helpful to share with you the answer.

Dear ______,

This is a good question. Let me summarize some of the Bible's teaching on the use and abuse of alcohol to help you to navigate your way through the party culture at college! I'll start with two important points.

Firstly, there's nothing wrong with alcohol in and of itself. God made alcohol to make us feel better (check out Psalm 104:15). Jesus himself turned water into wine (John 2:1-11), drank it himself (e.g. Matt 26:27-29) and used it positively in illustrations (e.g. Mark 2:22).

But secondly, the Bible always condemns drunkenness—that is, excessive drinking to the point of losing self-control. There's lots of Bible verses for this one: Romans 13:13, 1 Corinthians 6:10, Ephesians 5:18, 1 Peter 4:3, and so on. So it is definitely a sin to get drunk. In fact, the verses I cited all have to do with drunkenness in the context of a ‘party’ culture. Christians are not to do what the world around us does; we are not to get drunk even if others are doing it. Why? 1 Peter has an explanation:

Therefore, since Christ suffered in his body, arm yourselves also with the same attitude, because he who has suffered in his body is done with sin. As a result, he does not live the rest of his earthly life for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God. For you have spent enough time in the past doing what pagans choose to do—living in debauchery, lust, drunkenness, orgies, carousing and detestable idolatry. They think it strange that you do not plunge with them into the same flood of dissipation, and they heap abuse on you. But they will have to give account to him who is ready to judge the living and the dead. (1 Pet 4:1-5 NIV)

This gives us a hint as to why drunkenness is wrong. Drunkenness is consistently condemned in the Bible because it robs us of the ability to act responsibly and soberly for the sake of others. Human beings are created in God's image in order to rule the creation (Gen 1:26)—to live as God's agents with the responsibility to care for the world and for others. But drunkenness stops us from doing this properly. It prevents us from thinking clearly, and from being able to act in love. It increases our propensity to speak or act in ways that are selfish, unguarded and irresponsible. Noah, the first person in the Bible who was recorded as getting drunk (Gen 9:21), did such a thing, sinning and causing his son to sin.

Proverbs 23 describes this process of drunkenness robbing us of self-control in graphic detail:

Who has woe? Who has sorrow? Who has strife? Who has complaints? Who has needless bruises? Who has bloodshot eyes? Those who linger over wine, who go to sample bowls of mixed wine. Do not gaze at wine when it is red, when it sparkles in the cup, when it goes down smoothly! In the end it bites like a snake and poisons like a viper. Your eyes will see strange sights and your mind imagine confusing things. You will be like one sleeping on the high seas, lying on top of the rigging. “They hit me,” you will say, “but I'm not hurt! They beat me, but I don't feel it! When will I wake up so I can find another drink?” (Prov 23:29-35 NIV)

And Proverbs 30 gives advice to kings about not getting drunk:

It is not for kings, O Lemuel—not for kings to drink wine, not for rulers to crave beer, lest they drink and forget what the law decrees, and deprive all the oppressed of their rights. Give beer to those who are perishing, wine to those who are in anguish; let them drink and forget their poverty and remember their misery no more. “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.” (Prov 31:4-9 NIV)

The problem with getting drunk is that it stops people from exercising self-control, and from being responsible. This is why kings, in particular, should not get drunk (see also, for example, Isa 5:11, 28:1-8). It's kind of ‘okay’ for people with a hopeless life, who are destined for judgment and destruction, to get drunk; after all, they have no real responsibility—they're already condemned and sinful—so why not get drunk (Isa 22:13, 1 Cor 15:32)? But anyone with God-given responsibility (e.g. kings) should avoid getting drunk at all costs. That's why Christian leaders, in particular, must not be open to the charge of drunkenness (e.g. Titus 1:7, 2:3).

But does that mean that it's okay for a Christian to get drunk, as long as they're not a leader and have no responsibility? Well, the Bible teaches that all Christians have a great responsibility. We have God's Spirit, who brings us salvation from destruction, gives us a sure hope of eternal life, makes us sons and reforms us as heirs of God (Gal 3:29, Rom 8:17). That means we look forward to an inheritance. It also means we have the responsibility as sons to do what is right. That's why the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control (Gal 5:22-23)—all things that are about living responsibly for the sake of others, and all things that drunkenness inhibits (see the previous verses, especially Galatians 5:21). And that's why the ‘spirit’ of drunkenness is the polar opposite of the Spirit of God (Eph 5:18).

Hence the greatest witness to the hope of everlasting life amongst our party-oriented society is to avoid drunkenness at all costs.

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My post on church and evangelism sparked an interesting conversation that inevitably gravitated towards the old chestnut of what we mean by ‘church’. In this Saturday's extract from the archives, we go all the way back to Briefing #15, from December 1988, and to a typically succinct and theologically rich statement by Broughton Knox of ‘what the church is’:

The basic verse for the biblical doctrine of the church is Jesus' words to Peter: “In front of this rock I will build my gathering”. Jesus' promise is couched in terms based on Deuteronomy 4 when God commanded Moses to gather the people in front of the rock of Sinai on which God came down and stood. The members of that gathering all died in the desert through their unbelief, but death will not prevail against those whom Christ gathers into his church. They will always be in his presence, now and eternally. Jesus is in heaven, that is where the gathering is. All Christians have risen with Christ at their conversion and are seated with him in the heavenlies, now and forever. This heavenly gathering into which all Christians have been given access is explicitly called ‘church’ in Hebrews 12 and this is the meaning of the phrase ‘catholic church’ in the creeds, as is clear from a comparison of the two recensions of Ignatius' letter to the Smyrnians, where the phrase first occurs.

Christians are heavenly-minded, but this is not a self-centred heavenly-mindedness but Christ-centred. They “set their minds on things above, where Christ is”. Being consciously in Christ's presence through his Spirit they naturally have a ‘face to the world’, ‘imitating his life’, ‘going about doing good’ as their circumstance and their perception of others' needs provide opportunities. Christ lives in them, and others seeing their good works glorify their Father. It is a contradiction to be consciously in Christ's presence in his heavenly gathering or church without having a ‘face to the world’.

Membership of the heavenly church is experienced as fellowship of the Spirit with Christ and with one another in the things of Christ and will often lead Christians to combine together for many different purposes to serve other people for God's glory, whether it is combining to send out missionaries, or for home evangelism, or for the relief of the poor, or for the other innumerable tasks and objectives for which Spirit-filled Christians perceive the need and combine to fulfill it. The nineteenth century especially gives many examples of this, and individual members of the heavenly gathering round Christ will also be impelled by the Spirit of Christ to bring spiritual and material blessings to those with whom they are in contact. This is the face of the church to the world.

It will be seen that this doctrine of the church is the same as the traditional protestant doctrine of the universal, invisible church of Christ, but it gives it its biblical basis and completes it by making it clear that it is the church of Christ that is the gathering of Christ—for the word ‘church’ always means gathering—around Christ where he is in heaven, where we also are according to the teaching of the New Testament.

This present reality of being in each other's company in Christ's presence in heaven is experienced as fellowship in the Spirit in the things of Christ, one aspect of which is being drawn by the Spirit into each other's company to meet with Christ and one another according to the promise “where two or three meet together in my name, there am I in the midst”. Thus the local church forms spontaneously as an expression of the reality of the heavenly church. It is complete, not merely a part, for it lacks nothing. Christ is present and has gathered his people around him. Its purpose is to make more real our meeting with Christ and our sense of being in his presence together by building one another up in Christ, so that each member may go out to be Christ's witness in the world, either individually or in association together, as circumstances suggest. This is the purpose of the local congregation. It has no other purpose than fellowship in Christ in his presence, though naturally the friendships formed through being in each other's company in the local congregations, and the ideas exchanged and the leadership developed, may be the basis for association together for the work of Christ in the world, which the indwelling Spirit of God impels each Christian to undertake according to his opportunities and gifts.

Christian fellowship which centres itself on our fellow Christians is not full Christian fellowship. Our fellowship is with Christ and with our fellow Christians in Christ. It is primarily heavenly-mindedness. The command is “set your mind on things above where Christ is”. Christians are “the heavenly” (1 Cor 15:48). But it is also earthly-mindedness. We are in the world though not of it and we have a face to the world and must have, for Christ is at work in the world through us. The church is not an inward-looking ghetto but is heavenly-looking—looking to Jesus and his coming in his kingdom, and working for him while it is still day.

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Following on from Paul Grimmond’s post on Bible reading, Nicole Starling talks about one solution her and her husband came to in order to increase the time they spend doing it—a solution with a few unintended consequences.

Six months ago, my husband Dave and I changed our morning routine. Previously, we had tried various strategies for daily prayer and Bible reading, fitting them around work and children into the cracks and crevices of the day. For me, this meant doing it when the children were resting, or otherwise occupied, or asleep at night. Some of these strategies worked better than others. Finally, though, when none of these cleverer approaches delivered the consistency and quality of time that we needed, we decided to bite the bullet and go back to the old-fashioned, unoriginal approach: we would simply get up early enough to take turns to look after the kids while the other parent shut the bedroom door and spent some decent time alone in Bible reading and prayer.

It gave me pangs of guilt to start with: I often feel a little self-indulgent, taking some precious time to go off on my own to read the Bible and pray, when there’s so much other ‘Martha’ stuff that needs doing around the house. But now I had the added guilt that came with the fact I was so brazenly shutting the door in the children’s faces, and choosing Bible reading and prayer over extra time with them. It felt almost cruel—especially when there were tears being shed on the other side of the door!

Then the other morning we got a first glimpse of the kindness in the cruelty. Dave was about to go and read his Bible, and Jacob (our five-year-old, who has just started reading on his own) announced that he wanted to read his Bible too. So he went to his room with his Bible and shut the door. He was still reading when I got back from my walk 20 minutes later, (and he announced to me that he had read “Adonijah makes himself king” and “The plan to kill Jesus”. The next step is to get him some sort of Bible reading plan, I think!).

Jacob reads books all the time, and enjoys reading his Bible, but it was the door-shutting that made this time stand out, and it reminded me of how much our actions and routines communicate to our children. Of course, early mornings and door-shutting are not the only way to achieve the same result (or to communicate the same message); Susannah Wesley famously managed to do it with an apron over the head! But in our case, I’m thankful for this accidental lesson taught to the kids, and I’m starting to feel a little less guilty in the mornings when the door clicks shut and I experience my tiny, daily taste of Luke 14:26.

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