The Terrible Sin of Eisigesis

If you are not familiar with the term eisigesis, here’s the wiki definition (poorly edited, by the way, yet it at least communicates the basic idea).

Eisigesis means reading into the (Biblical) text; which means that while reading the text, one would understand the text in accordance to his (or her) own presupposition and agendas. Eisigesis is widely used to prove a point rather to search for the truth. On the contrary to eisigesis, exigesis means reading out of the text. That means putting aside all presuppositions, agendas, and ideas, and looking for the truth of the matter, although it might be something we disagree with.

If anyone has a wiki account, that definition could use some serious editing. The idea behind the word eisigesis is best understood in contrast to Biblical exegesis, which is more clearly defined among theologians. Exegesis in the vernacular is letting Scripture set the agenda on how a verse or chapter is interpreted and applied. When a pastor exegetes Scripture, he sets aside his personal agenda as he studies Scripture. He looks at the context of a passage. What was the author talking about in the previous section? How do the previous verses inform the passage in question? Who was it written too? How does their background and culture inform what the author is saying to them? What do the actual Hebrew or Greek words mean? Does the author use those same words any where else in Scripture? Is this passage actually quoted anywhere else in Scripture. And so forth. It is reading OUT OF Scripture.

In contrast, eisigesis is projecting ONTO Scripture. Instead of Scripture speaking out to us, we speak into it. We inform how it is read. Our agendas apart from Scripture inform how we interpret and apply it. And it is a horrible yet common sin. It's a perversion of Scripture. Scripture is God’s revelation of Himself TO us. We don’t get to project our reflections onto it. IT illuminates US. Not vice versa.

The problem with eisigesis is that when we emphasize things Scripture doesn’t, we minimize the focus on what Scripture really does say is important.

After hearing a few sermon series from Old Testament books that were classic examples of eisigesis, I recognize it easily now. But a negative side effect is that I also tense up now when my pastor wants to preach from any Old Testament passage. During a recent sermon from Jeremiah, I sat listening to my pastor trying to figure out why I trusted the applications he was making for today from Jeremiah 29. Why is it that I can hear instructions from 3000 or so years ago on seeking the welfare of some city in the middle east (and not David's example of cutting off Philistine foreskins or Nehemiah's scalping of his enemies) and embrace it for me today?

I have particular baggage on that question after hearing a sermon series from Nehemiah a few years ago that was about the worst example of eisigesis I've yet experienced. The preacher projected his life onto the story of Nehemiah and allowed his personal experiences rather than a gospel hermeneutic to decide how he applied it. The results were devastating. Years later, when my pastor announced he was going to preach through Exodus, I immediately tensed. But after going through a few Old Testament series taught through the lens of the gospel and life of Jesus, I have come to understand that the difference is really quite simple. Correct exegesis and application of Old Testament passages will never deny New Testament explanations or commands. When you have to deny New Testament instructions to make Old Testament analogies, you are in problem territory.

In the Nehemiah example, the preacher drew the conclusion that going postal on your spiritual opponent is Biblical because Nehemiah did. But that conclusion ignored the distinction between what Scripture DESCRIBES and PRESCRIBES. Scripture describes a lot of things that we aren't to do, and sometimes it describes it without commentary. Though the guy in Judges cut up his concubine's corpse and distributed it among the tribes, we know better than to suggest others do that today. Judges described what happened, and be very certain that everything that the Bible describes it does not also prescribe.

In reference to the description of Nehemiah's harsh reaction to his opponents, it was a good day when I read what Scripture in 2 Timothy 2:24-26 actually prescribes when dealing with your opponent.

And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will.

Weird stories in the Old Testament are very relevant today. Some simply point to the character of our God. While most of us will never go through the same trials that Joseph did, our God is the same, and what others mean for evil, He uses for our good (Gen. 50:20). That's His character. Some OT stories point to our need for King Jesus. For instance, the entire book of Judges, which is a compilation of depressing stories summed up with the phrase, “there was no king and everyone did what was right in their own eyes.” We need King Jesus. We need His life lived out before us because apart from His standard of righteousness, the things we come up with as righteous in our own eyes are woefully inadequate and often quite perverse. Then there are the abundance of stories that reveal little glimpses of what King Jesus will look like when He comes. The entire OT sacrificial system does this. The Psalms give us glimpses. Ruth's story of the kinsman redeemer or Hosea's pursuit of Gomar all do this as well.

The Bible is the best commentary on itself and the most helpful tool for avoiding personal eisigesis. Once we stop projecting onto the Old Testament, it has so much to project onto us. And it is beautiful and redemptive. I'm very thankful to the godly men (and women) who have pointed me to the cross from Genesis to Malachi.

Ode to the Single Woman

Single woman, friend of mine, you have come through for me again and again. My life as a wife and mom to small children is chaotic, and when I get sick or have an emergency large or small, it throws my world into chaos. You are the one that I called when I was sitting in my chair crying, overwhelmed at my inability to do all I had to do. And you showed up on my doorstep at a moment's notice ready to take my kids to a playground and out for ice cream afterwards. And then you acted like it was no problem and actually something you wanted to do.

I can not tell you what grace you have ministered to me by your enthusiasm to serve my family. If someone called me up with the same request, I'd do my best to do it without making them feel bad, but it would stress me, and I imagine it would be hard not to communicate it to the one in need. But you have never once made me feel bad about your service to me. I often feel guilty that our friendship seems lopsided. You are the flexible one, while my schedule seems so inflexible. And yet you never make me feel selfish or guilty or ashamed. You treat me like you are just happy to be with me, even if you had to make the majority of the sacrifices to make it happen. I want you to know that I see that and it means so very much to me. And to my children. And to my husband.

I have had several single friends over the last few years who have loved me and my children well, served my family in times of sickness or death, and just generally blessed me. I am coming to the firm conviction that I, married with 2 kids, deeply need my sisters in Christ at different stages of life—younger, older, never married, married, widowed, divorced, with grown kids, without kids. I like to minister to others. And sometimes the outgrowth of that is I'm a little resistant to someone ministering to me. But God has definitely worked that out of me the last year. I am contemplating tonight my need for my sisters and how blessed I have been when I humble myself to them with my need.

The Answer to a Works Righteousness Approach to Mission

Our pastor started a sermon series on I Corinthians today with the general theme of Threats to Mission. Today's focus was how a cult of personality can be a threat to authentic mission. The answer was that, not only is salvation by grace, but mission too is by grace (not personality, or gifting, or vision). If you have 30 minutes and would like to hear a gospel centered message on living out our mission in our culture, this is a very helpful one. The text is I. Cor. 1:1-3, 10-17; 3:1-9.

A Praying Life

I've recommended a number of books on this blog. Some I like, and I think some of you might find helpful. They may say an intriguing thought that I share with you. But other times, I come across a book that I devour. That I reread. That hangs with me well after putting it down. That the Spirit uses to change me. Hearing Jesus Speak Into Your Sorrow was one. Counsel from the Cross was another. And currently, I am devouring A Praying Life by Paul Miller. Like Nancy Guthrie of Hearing Jesus Speak Into Your Sorrow, Miller has endured long term struggles with his children. I have found that authors/teachers saddled with a life long burden have a lot to say. At least to me. Sometimes it's not what we necessarily want to hear. But once your naive notions of how the christian life will play out for you die their painful death, these authors are the ones that can speak the truth of Scripture in effective ways.

I have underlined paragraphs, starred sentences, and turned the corner of pages of this book with the thought of posting a blurb here. But now I have too many to post just one, and I can only say that if you are hurting and your previous view of prayer has been challenged by the struggles you have faced, READ THIS BOOK.

And so it began

Every now and then, God shows me something from Scripture in such a way that I hear loud and clear His message to me. Such was today, Christmas day. I am 40 years old, the youngest of 3 girls. And today was the first time I've fully hosted Christmas for my parents. I've been working on a low key menu for a few weeks, and things came together relatively well. My boys are ages 4 and 6, and this year it seemed of growing importance to start instilling in them the true meaning of Christmas. We've been talking about the Christmas story, reading it from many different books, acting it out in church Christmas programs, and talking it out using a playmobil manger scene. All that to say, I've had a bit on my mind in preparation for today. After reading the Christmas story last night, this morning was a flurry of Christmas activity. At some point, I managed to steal a few brief moments away to read my Bible.

I have been working my way through the book of Luke since last summer. I keep getting distracted away from it, but I also keep coming back. And today, God timed it so that my reading spoke a clear message to me particularly on this day we celebrate Christ's birth.

The topic? Christ's death.

Yes, today my reading in Luke just “happened” to fall on the crucifixion. I hadn't really noticed in the days before this that I was at that point in Luke. But it was stark this morning. While my boys read last night of one Herod's pursuit of the infant Christ, today I read of another Herod's interaction with Him. Judas betrays Jesus. Herod and Pilate become friends as they try to figure out what to do with Him. Jesus stands silent in the presence of the accusations against Him. He's beaten and sent to the cross where He interacts with a thief who recognizes who He is. Peter denies Him while a centurion recognizes Him. He dies.

And then comes the most amazing thing in all of Scripture. “The curtain of the temple was torn in two.” The thick heavy curtain that separated the outer portion of the temple from the Holy of Holies, which was the symbolic presence of God, was torn in two. No more priests interceding in our place. No more blood sacrifices to atone for our sins. Instead, we have ACCESS. Bold, confident access.

So today as I unwrapped gifts and cooked turkey and ham, I was humbled to think that what I'm really celebrating is the start of the countdown to the moment that veil in the temple was torn, to the moment that Christ paved the way for me to boldly and confidently access my Father. And maybe the purest form of celebration I can offer on Christmas day and the days to come is simply to avail myself of the access He has given me through His life and death.

The veil is torn. Wherever you are this Christmas season, whatever you perceive stands between you and Him, come boldly and confidently to Him now in prayer. Avail yourself of the end result of Christ's birth, life, and death for you.

Pray.

Eating it

"I and the public know 
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return."
-W. H. Auden, 1-Sep-39

Auden wrote those words about the outbreak of World War 2, but the headlines on every news network today reflect it as well. I was painfully aware of it as I watched an older teenage boy in the park physically abuse his younger cousin recently. Though he was gone by the time the police got there, I know had they questioned him, he would have said that someone did it to him when he was young (probably the evil grandmother yelling at the other kids while it was all happening). If you follow the tangled web that leads to any act of vandalism, bullying, abuse, or even terrorism, you will find someone at some point acting out on what evil had been done to them – not paying it BACK usually. More often, they are paying it FORWARD—Zig Ziglar's kicking the cat syndrome. Tolstoy, in his short story The Forged Coupon, traces the cancerous progression of evil beginning with a boy falsifying the amount on a coupon, which eventually progresses to murder. It's the circular saw of evil, each act of evil adding another blade in the ever widening circle.

Into this world is born the Lamb of God. He doesn't pay it back. And He doesn't pay it forward. He eats it. My pastor called it absorbing injustice, and I recommend his sermon on it here.

And we are called to be like Him. Tim Keller has said it boldly, “A Christian's call is to stop the spread of evil.” When I first heard that quote, I had to stop and think ... Really?! Not just avoid evil or not do evil myself, but to actually STOP evil? It was helpful to go through Ephesians again with women at my church this quarter. By the end of Ephesians, when Paul says “stand firm,” this is exactly what he's calling us to do. By God's GRACE, He has equipped me to deal with the evil in myself. And by His grace, He's given me the tools to deal with the evil in the world. I am called to plant my feet, hold up my shield, hunker down, and STAND FIRM. And when evil slams up against me, Satan's schemes to defeat me and undermine the march of the kingdom of God, I hold on – feet planted, sword in one hand, shield in the other – and preach the gospel of peace that brings an END to this war.

I love the picture painted of spiritual warfare in Ephesians 6. But what does that look like in real life? THAT is the million dollar question. I'm thinking about it this morning with my children. How do I teach them to eat the forged coupon? Left to themselves and apart from Christ, their little conflicts with one another escalate to a childish form of murder every time. It starts by someone politely asking for a shared toy, and ends with each boy crying after scratching and clawing the other in anger. I'm thinking about it in terms of myself. How do I eat it when I receive the forged coupon? When my children do evil to me? How do I stand firm in the gospel of peace when my husband is short with me? When he misunderstands me?

I am also contemplating this in our world. Abuse and oppression are everywhere. I've become particularly aware of it in the church—spiritual, sexual, and physical abuse in many different denominations. It's as rampant in Bible and Baptist churches as it is in Catholic ones. It's often hushed up by church leadership with the end result of predators moving quietly to another congregation in another city to offend again.

My call is more than just to deflect evil off myself, leaving it to affect someone else later. Nor am I called to a victim mentality that endures evil so that evil is perpetuated by my indifference. No, I am called to an endurance and steadfastness that absorbs and ends it. ENDS it. Social justice is the natural outworking of the gospel of peace, which I talked about here. I've heard good things about Tim Keller's book, Generous Justice, which I have as the next book on my To Read list.

I am beginning to form a global perspective of what this looks like. Then, as I sit in my chair thinking about my part in ending global evil, I'm distracted by my son walking through the room, demanding something of me. And I'm reminded that my first line of battle is right here in this house, right now, with these two guys – planting my feet firmly in the gospel of peace, absorbing injustice, and doing unto them not as they just did to me but with a vision of what God is calling them to be. Like the guy who can stop the saw with his hand, my job isn't to get out of the way while the circle of evil perpetuates itself. And my job is certainly not to stay in the cycle. But I am now equipped and called to END it.

Special thanks to my pastor's wife for prompting me to think on this, especially in terms of our children.

An external act of religion that actually means something.

Having come from a religious background that, much like the pharisees of Jesus' day, abused teaching on the externals of a person, I am skittish at even considering that externals DO mean something spiritually. Yet, Scripture is clear. Everything flows out of the HEART, but it does flow OUT. Our external actions can have value in terms of self examination. But their value cuts both ways. We can examine externals and become satisfied with ourselves to the point that we ignore our heart – the white washed tomb syndrome. In that case, there is a disconnect between the heart (which is dead) and the externals (which look good). The outside looks clean, yet it houses dead men's bones. Christians have always been adept at coming up with amazing amounts of white wash to cover our tombs. But we also often miss what Scripture itself says is the appropriate outworking of a heart that abides in Christ in light of His gospel. What should be flowing out?

I am slowly working my way through Ray Ortlund's commentary on Isaiah, God Saves Sinners. His discussion of Isaiah 1 has pricked me, a sword that cuts deeply and exposes the truth of our problems (MY problems) and the only thing that will fix it.

Isaiah 1 is a lament by God over His children. You are wounded and bleeding, says God, yet oblivious to your sorry condition (v. 5-7). You continue with the traditions of worship like you always have, to which God brings a strong rebuke, “Bring no more vain offerings” (v. 13).

Vain means empty. Useless. Ineffective. Their worship means nothing and accomplishes nothing. They are, in theory, following the letter of the law in their external worship, but it is utterly ineffective, actually becoming a burden to God (v. 14) rather than the incense it should be.

Hear well both the indictment against them and then the answer God gives them in Isaiah 1.

“Your hands are full of blood. Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes, cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow's cause.” v. 15-17

As I read verse 17, I immediately thought of those intriguing words on pure religion in the New Testament in James 1. They intrigue me because I so rarely have heard it emphasized with the clarity that Scripture seems to speak of it.

James 1:27 Pure and undefiled religion in the sight of our God and Father is this : to visit orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world.

James calls it PURE and UNDEFILED religion. When you boil it down and remove the impurities, here is what you will have left. Growing up, I read that passage in my Bible but NEVER heard it as a topic of sermons, or youth activities, or Sunday school lessons, or Christian school devotionals, or ministry staff meetings, or chapel messages, or … well, you get the picture. Yet James uses wording that makes it sound like something pretty important. And when I read Isaiah 1 this last week and Ortlund's commentary on it, I realized, it is of UTMOST importance.

The Greek term in James 1 for religion is interesting. It particularly applies to the outside practices and visible worship that flow from our doctrine and beliefs (as does Isaiah 1). We all know to focus on heart issues. Yet everything that we inwardly believe plays itself out outwardly. Our worship music, preaching styles, the method in which we pray, the way we decorate for Christmas, the Christian t shirts we wear, the WWJD bracelets, the cross necklace, or whatever other OUTWARD manifestation you can imagine of your belief system – that is “religion” of James 1:27.

If you read James 1:27 in the context of the entire chapter, James is teaching on being a doer, not just a hearer, of the word. He says many people look in the mirror, see the truth of what God says, but then turn away unchanged. They hear it, but it never connects in a way that makes a difference. James says that a crystal clear outward indicator that the truth of the gospel actually registered with you is care of the oppressed and remaining unstained by the world. I've heard the second phrase taught in the past in a way that is contradicted by Jesus' own earthly example, and that's never good. So I want to think more on what it means and post those thoughts another day. But the first indicator is pretty straightforward—care of widows and orphans, and when coupled with Isaiah 1, the general seeking of justice and correction of oppression.

I generally value these things, but I am praying about what I need to see in the mirror of God's Word and how that will affect my responses to the oppressed in my realm of influence. I have vaguely noticed this in the past, but I didn't have the gospel conviction to realize what was happening. I remember years ago counseling a former church member who was undergoing a serious crisis shortly after leaving our church at the time. She was suddenly in terrible need. What an awesome moment to show her the love of God and unconditional nature of His grace, right?! It was slowly dawning on me -- this is a gospel outworking of love kind of moment. Yet church leaders kept putting me off in my efforts to get help for her and her children. I thought at first that the leaders and I just had a different philosophy on the church's obligations to former members. So I did things on my own without church support, a little befuddled by it all. Reading Isaiah 1 and James 1 clears it up for me. Now I realize that the real philosophical disparity was over the gospel itself. Gospel-centered, grace loving, Christ abiding hearers of the Word walk away from the mirror with a readiness to care for the poor, the widowed, the orphaned, and the oppressed. Once I realized that my burden for gospel-centered care of widows and orphans was not supported by my church leadership, I realized something significantly more. What do the words gospel, grace, and Jesus mean in this moment practically? My gospel understanding deepened, and my conviction to help the oppressed solidified in light of it.

But despite bad experiences with others on the subject as well as my own slowness to grow in it personally, I am also encouraged. As the gospel moves forward, I see a flourishing, gospel-centered growth in ministries focused on care of and justice for the oppressed. Here are a few.

Members of my church are heavily involved in Seattle Against Slavery and Rwanda Partners.

Dan Cruver has spearheaded a growing movement, Together for Adoption, with yearly conferences and lots of helpful material.

Russell Moore has written a great book on the subject of adoption, Adopted for Life.

A good friend of mine has started working for and raised my attention to Illien Adoptions International.

In my small church (maybe 300 people max), at least 4 families have adopted, two of which are elders' families. There is no big push for adoption, per se. It's just in their spiritual, gospel-centered DNA. It's NATURAL to care for such things when you believe what our church believes and teaches about Christ, the gospel, and our adoption into God's family. The church also has a robust deacon's fund ready to help any who have need. A few months ago, I met a guy in line at Walgreens who had been burned out of his home, and in half a day, deacons at church were ready to assist him with getting temporary housing. Helping needs, caring for the oppressed, and seeking justice is the accepted norm there. It's not an agenda. It's the natural outworking of the gospel.

Now, PLEASE don't walk away from this article with a simplified checklist on which people or ministries with adoption ministries are good and those without are bad. It's bigger and deeper than that, and people who love Christ and the gospel are doing it left and right in ways most of us will never know. Most of all, it's about MY PERSONAL heart, not yours, or theirs. When I hear God's Word and see MYSELF in the mirror in light of it, I will turn out with a posture toward the widow, orphan, oppressed, and in need. My posture will be to seek justice, to correct oppression, and love the abandoned and orphaned. If that's not your posture, don't immediately go looking for an adoption ministry to which to send your money out of guilt (though sending money is good). Instead, preach the gospel to yourself. Our posture toward the needy will be corrected when we hear the Word and see ourselves clearly in its mirror. Meditate on the gospel, grace, and the life of Jesus. Anything less than looking anew on the cross will just produce self-righteous legalists (and nobody wants to be adopted by them!). :-)

**If you'd like to share a link to other gospel-centered ministries living this out, please feel free to do so.**

**One additional note -- what if you or your ministry sit under the accusation of harboring injustice or ignoring the care of widows or orphans? Our worldly coping mechanisms are denial and shame. But the gospel offers us a different beautiful, real solution -- REPENTANCE. It is as simple as saying, "Yes, I committed injustice instead of correcting injustice. But I see from the gospel hope for myself and a call to something different toward others. I repent." THAT is the antidote for accusations of disobedience against you. Chances are, the accusations are true. Face it. Repent. And then get up and go forward in a new direction. To the praise of God's glorious grace.