Category Archives: Biblical theology

Revelation Notes (Chapter 3)

Ted Grimsrud—March 31, 2012

[See notes on Revelation 2]

The seven messages that make up chapters two and three continue the vision John saw and heard beginning in the middle of chapter one when he hears a “loud voice” that calls him to send the visions that make up the book of Revelation to the seven churches of Asia (1:9). These messages serve today’s readers by anchoring the book as a whole in the context of the struggles of these seven churches in the late first century.

As we are attentive to the concerns Jesus conveys to the seven congregations we will discern the concerns that the later visions will also be centered on.

Revelation 3:1-6—Message to the congregation in Sardis

In the message to the congregation in the city of Sardis, we have one of the more negatively critical of the messages. As with the other messages, this one touches on characteristics of the city itself—implying that the congregation there is reflecting its environment, mostly in problematic ways.

The city of Sardis had a reputation of being invulnerable, safe from outside attack. However, in fact, several times in the past its boundaries had been penetrated by Sardis’s enemies, leading to disaster for the city. Likewise with the congregation. Jesus’ makes an extraordinarily cutting remark: “You have a name of being alive, but you are dead” (3:1). Continue reading

Justice in the New Testament

Ted Grimsrud

In the Christian tradition, “justice” has often been seen as something far removed from Jesus’ life and teaching. However, when we posit a polarity between Jesus’ message and justice we undermined both our ability to understand justice in more redemptive and restorative terms and our ability to see in Jesus a political approach that indeed speaks directly to the “real world.”

Jesus and God’s Healing Strategy

Several Old Testament terms describe God’s healing work—shalom (peace), hesed (loving kindness), mispat and tsedeqah (righteousness/justice) prominent among them.  These terms often cluster together in a mutually reinforcing way.

Just a few examples include Micah 6:8 (“What does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness?”), Psalm 85:10-11 (“Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet; justice and peace will kiss each other.  Faithfulness will spring up from the ground, and justice will look down from the sky.”), and Psalm 89:14 (“Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne; steadfast love and faithfulness go before you.”).

Jesus understood himself (and was confessed thus by early Christians) to fulfill the message of Torah.  He makes the call to love neighbors, to bring healing into broken contexts, and to offer forgiveness and restoration in face of wrongdoing central.

As he began his ministry, Jesus clarified his healing vocation in face of temptations to fight injustice with coercion and violence.  He made clear that genuine justice has not to do with punishing wrongdoers nor with a kind of holiness that cannot be in the presence of sin and evil. Rather, genuine justice enters directly into the world of sin and evil and seeks in the midst of that world to bring healing and transformation—a restoration of whole relationships. Continue reading

What is God Like?

[This is the fifth in a series of sermons in interpreting America in the 21st century in light of the Book of Revelation. The series will continue, monthly for about two years.]

Ted Grimsrud

Revelation 4:1–5:14—Shalom Mennonite Congregation—February 19, 2012

The book of Revelation is a mystery, right? Scary, intimidating, fantastic, wacky, off-putting—maybe, also, fascinating and even inspiring. I think it’s worth wrestling with, and it may even have special importance for us as we who live today in the center of the world’s one great superpower.

When we take up Revelation, though, just like any other religious text, so much depends on what we are looking for. The date of the rapture and the identity of the Antichrist (ala the Left Behind books)? Or the lunatic ravings of a hallucinating first-century fanatic (that’s what D. H. Lawrence thought)? Or words of encouragement in face of a vicious authoritarian state (like South African theologian Allan Boesak 30 years ago)? Or a challenge to American imperialism (the great American prophet of the 1960s and 70s William Stringfellow)?

And what kind of God do we expect to find “revealed” in this book? We all tend to try to find what will reinforce our already existing beliefs. We don’t always look very kindly toward images and ideas that threaten what we think we know. I’m reminded of one of my favorite quotes, from the social thinker John Kenneth Galbraith: “Sometimes we face a choice, do we change our minds or do we prove that we don’t need to. When faced with such a choice, most of us most of the time get busy with the proof.” Continue reading

A refreshing reading of Revelation

A review of Nelson Kraybill. Apocalypse and Allegiance: Worship, Politics, and Devotion in the Book of Revelation (Brazos Press, 2010).

Ted Grimsrud—published in The Conrad Grebel Review 29. 3 (Fall 2011), 107-109

Nelson Kraybill, New Testament scholar, former missionary in Europe, former president of Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminary, and currently pastor at Prairie Street Mennonite Church in Elkhart, Indiana, has written a fine book that displays abilities honed in each of his roles just mentioned.

Apocalypse and Allegiance combines solid scholarship, an accessible style, theological depth, spiritual encouragement, and social critique. Kraybill packs an impressive amount of content in a relatively small space, addressing both general readers and scholars with a refreshing perspective on the book of Revelation.

Kraybill’s scholarly strength is his understanding of the historical setting for the book of Revelation, with particular expertise in political and economic dynamics. So we get information and visuals that put us back into Revelation’s first century environment.

In particular, Kraybill does an excellent job in presenting Revelation as resistance literature that challenges the imperial ambitions of Rome with a vision of a humane, peaceable alternative politics. And, to the reader’s benefit, Kraybill does not simply describe a fascinating ancient document but also makes perceptive applications to the present day. Continue reading

Weakness in Power

[This is the fourth in a series of sermons in interpreting America in the 21st century in light of the Book of Revelation. The series will continue, monthly for about two years.]

Ted Grimsrud

Revelation 3:1-22—Shalom Mennonite Congregation—January 22, 2012

So, what is the book of Revelation really about? Since it has been two months since my last sermon, you all have probably forgotten….Let me suggest one word that I believe is at the center of the book: Power.

We may read Revelation as a book of conflicts—the Beast vs. the Lamb, the Holy Spirit vs. the False Prophet, Babylon vs. the New Jerusalem. The question is: Who is more powerful? Which is actually the question: What kind of power is more powerful —the power to conquer through domination or the power to conquer through self-giving love? On this question hangs the fate of the earth, perhaps we could say. Certainly, for John the writer of Revelation, on this question hangs the fate of the churches.

The seven messages that make up chapters two and three, the first of Revelation’s many visions, set the book’s agenda. In my last sermon, I talked about “power in weakness”—how the little church in Smyrna, besieged, suffering persecution, with little visible power, actually was praised above all the other churches and proclaimed to be rich indeed.

Today, I will focus on “weakness in power”—how the big church in Laodicea, wealthy, comfortable, lacking in nothing, actually was condemned above all the other churches and proclaimed to be “wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked.” Continue reading

Revelation Notes (Chapter 2)

Ted Grimsrud—December 10, 2011

[See the notes on Revelation 1]

The first thing to notice when we begin to look at the messages to the seven churches of Asia that make up chapters two and three is that they are part of the same vision that began in 1:9 when John hears a “loud voice” telling him to write this book that records what he will see and “send it to the seven churches, to Ephesus, to Smyrna, to Pergamum, to Thyatira, to Sardis, to Philadelphia, and to Laodicea” (1:9-11).

John turns “to see whose voice it was that spoke to me” (1:12), at which point the first vision of the book begins. John learns that the voice speaking to him is Jesus. In the immediate vision, John sees many images that put together form a kind of Christology. Many of these images are then incorporated in the seven messages to come. As we move on to chapter two, we should not be misled by the chapter break in our English translation. The original did not have such breaks, and it would have been clear to the first listeners/readers that this one vision of Jesus that begins the series that John will report on throughout the book includes both the word-picture of Jesus presented in 1:12-20 and the messages this same Jesus gives to the seven churches in chapters two and three.

These messages, thus, tells us several crucial things for understanding the book as a whole, including not least a fleshing out of the picture of Jesus—the one who John announces with the first words of the book is the subject of the one “revelation” the book gives. These messages are not of interest only for what they tell us about the seven churches and their environments but also for what they tell us about the giver of the messages. They also, clearly, by their place in the larger narrative of the book, set the agenda for the book as a whole. If we want to understand the later visions, we must always return to these seven messages that provide the context for the visions that follow. Continue reading

A Christian Pacifist Perspective on War and Peace

Ted Grimsrud

Presented at Conference on Religion and Peace—James Madison University—April 11, 2005

As a Christian pacifist theologian, I find it more than a little ironic that many Christians in the United States compare Christianity to other religions, especially Islam and Judaism, by asserting that Christianity is more peaceful.  They presumably base such a claim on the teachings of Jesus, who they affirm as central to their faith.  However, looking at the message of Jesus only underscores how much blood we Christians actually have on our hands over the past two millennia, how far most Christians over most of Christianity’s history have moved from our namesake’s words such as “love your enemies,” “turn the other cheek,” and “Father, forgive them” when it comes to issues of war and peace.

This is to say, as I write about a Christian perspective on war and peace I recognize just how tiny of a minority within the Christian tradition I represent.  Most Christians are not pacifists; only a few have ever been, at least in the years since 300 CE.  However, I will suggest that pacifism has strong grounding in the basic storyline of the Christian Bible, that pacifism is in fact the original (or default) position of Christianity, that pacifism has always existed as an option for Christian believers, and that following the 20th century, the century of total war, Christian pacifism has more relevance (and more adherents) than ever before.[1]

I need to start with some definitions before outlining the biblical grounding for Christian pacifism.  The most common definitions of “pacifism” focus on what pacifism rejects, characterizing pacifism as the in-principled rejection of participation in warfare.  Some pacifists would say that all war is wrong, others more that they simply themselves will never fight.  Focusing on what pacifism affirms, I define pacifism as the conviction that nothing matters as much as love, kindness, respect, seeking wholeness.  Hence, nothing that would justify violence matters enough to override the commitment to love.  In my understanding, pacifism is a worldview, a way of looking at reality;[2] there is a pacifist way of knowing, a pacifist way of perceiving, of discerning, of negotiating life.

The term “nonviolence” is recently prominent as a near-synonym for pacifism.  I will use the terms interchangeably, though if we trying to be truly precise, we could find nuances that might make us want to differentiate between the two terms.[3]

My definition of pacifism more in positive, worldview terms links more closely with the logic of the biblical story than simply defining pacifism as the rejection of warfare.  The Bible, famously, does not overtly reject warfare for believers; in fact, in certain notorious cases the Bible actually commends, even commands, God’s people fighting.[4]

Continue reading

Power in Weakness

[This is the third in a series of sermons in interpreting America in the 21st century in light of the Book of Revelation. The series will continue, monthly for about two years.]

Ted Grimsrud

Revelation 2:1-29—Shalom Mennonite Congregation—November 13, 2011

Imagine getting something by mail-order, say a computer, that you have to do some assembly on before you can use it, like maybe add some memory. You want to save some money and do it yourself. It seems so easy. And imagine that this computer and the memory chips come with instructions telling you how to install the memory. But then imagine you think you know what you are doing, so you don’t bother with the instructions. What might happen?

Well, I can imagine this scenario pretty easily, since I lived it. And what happened was that I tried to force the memory chip into place the wrong way and ended up breaking the memory chip holder. Not too bright.

I thought about that embarrassing memory as I was reflecting on the role that chapters 2 and 3 play in the book of Revelation. These chapters contain messages to seven churches in cities in northeastern corner of the Mediterranean. Most typically, these letters are read as our last moments of sanity before we enter into the craziness of Revelation’s visions. But we don’t usually think of them as the key to understanding the visions.

I think that’s what they are, though. The seven messages are kind of the instructions for understanding the rest of the book. To interpret the visions without paying close attention to the letters is like my trying to install the memory in my new computer without looking at the instructions. Continue reading

Commentary on Revelation One

Ted Grimsrud—October 2011


Introductory thoughts

Most scholars place the writing of Revelation in the final decade of the first century, during the reign of the Roman emperor Diocletian. Despite ancient traditions that have linked the “John” of Revelation with John the Apostle, the recent consensus has concluded that Revelation’s John is almost surely an otherwise unknown preacher/prophet. Since this John thus has little authorial authority, our estimation of his skill and insight must be based totally on the contents of the book itself.

Not only our estimation of John’s authority, but also our sense of the broader context of the book pretty much completely rests on references within the book itself. So we will need to be attentive to those references as we go along.

The other standard issue of introduction has more to do with hermeneutics. How are we to read Revelation? What do we expect to find herein? Should we mine Revelation for predictions concerning future events? Should, instead, we mainly look at Revelation as an important historical source for first-century apocalypticism? Or, as a third option, should we engage Revelation as “churchly” literatures, writings born out of faith and speaking with continuing relevance to people of similar convictions concerning Jesus’ lordship and Christians’ call to follow his way in a traumatic world?

Again, how we answer these expectations questions will be determined as we move along and consider the contents of the book.

1:1-8—Introduction and Salutation

The first few words of the book already puts the cards on the table in relation to our reading strategy of Revelation. We can think of three distinct options that highlight different terms and motifs at the beginning—and that as a consequence of their distinctive emphases go on to read the book as a whole in significantly divergent ways.

One stand picks up on the first word, “Revelation.” The Greek is Apocalypsie, the source for our word “apocalypse” and “apocalyptic.” This emphasis places the priority on Revelation as apocalyptic writing, part of a distinctive genre of literature that flourished in the ancient near east in the generations prior to and following after Jesus’ time. In this approach, Revelation is read first of all in relation to other apocalyptic literature, with an emphasis placed on its distinctiveness among the biblical writings.

A second strand emphasizes the phrase, “to show his servants what must soon take place.” For those with this emphasis, Revelation is read first of all as predictive literature, providing insights into future events.

A third approach, characteristic of this study, places the emphasis on the second and third words of the book, “Jesus Christ.” Revelation may (I would say, should) be read in the context of the New Testament and broader biblical story of salvation that culminates in the life and teaching of Jesus.

When we place the priority of the “Jesus Christ” emphasis, and decide to read this reference to Jesus Christ as a signal that this book is self-consciously placing itself within the Gospel story of Jesus’ disclosure of God among human beings, we will assume Revelation is best read in continuity with Jesus’ message. Continue reading

A Revelation About Jesus

[This is the second in a series of sermons in interpreting America in the 21st century in light of the Book of Revelation. The series will continue, monthly for about two years.]

Ted Grimsrud

Revelation 1:1-20—Shalom Mennonite Congregation—October 16, 2011

I had kind of a disorienting thought the other day. When I graduated from high school my dad was 55 years old. To me he was a rock, wise, competent, sure-footed. And old. A newspaper article from this time called him a “grizzled veteran coach.”

Here’s the disorienting thought. I am now two years older than my dad was then….I don’t feel grizzled, and I feel like I barely know what to do. My dad seemed to know exactly what to do; I never saw him struggle with any choices or uncertainties. Usually, it seems like I just guess and hope for the best when it comes to important decisions—you know, major home repair issues or whether to try to go to Africa to see the grandkids or important medical decisions. So often, I don’t know what to do.

So, that makes me think that maybe even my dad was not as certain and invulnerable as he seemed to me. Sometimes maybe he was just guessing and hoping for the best too.

And then that thought underscores to me that maybe in general our wisdom is pretty limited. Our choices are fallible and imperfect. We do the best we can, but there is so much we don’t know, so much we don’t understand, so little we can be certain of. We rarely know for sure the right thing to do. I think back 16 years ago—would we stay in South Dakota where we had had two great years? Or would we move to Bluffton, Ohio, or to Harrisonburg, where I could become a college teacher? We did just guess!

So maybe it’s a good idea to cultivate our humility and tentativeness and forbearance toward others. We all do try, but we are all limited—and I am just as capable of making an idiotic choice as my neighbor.

It strikes me that theology and Christian beliefs and ethical stances are all like this in relation to choices too—choices mostly made at least somewhat in the dark, choices mostly that are really just our best guesses. The idea of religious certainty and being dogmatic about certain “absolutes” to the point of violence seems highly problematic.

But still, the Yogi Berra imperative remains: When you come to a fork in the road, take it. We must still move ahead, we must make choices (imperfect as they surely will be). Ever since I became an addict of the early video game Tetris about twenty years ago I have thought of life as being like a constant Tetris game. Our choices are like Tetris pieces falling down on us; we do have to act, to choose, or else we will get completely snowed under.

So, when we pick up the Bible, we must start making choices right away. What to read. How to read it. How to apply it. And certainly this is the case should we make our way to the end of the Bible and read the book of Revelation.

Is Revelation mainly predictions about the future or exhortation for first century believers? Is it better read in relation to other, non-biblical writings in the so-called apocalyptic genre or read in relation to the New Testament? Are the plagues in Revelation from God or from the Beast? Continue reading