Today, September 12th, 2025, I finished reading the King James Version of the Bible from cover to cover. The copy was 1,647 pages long, and I revisited many books, chapters, and passages multiple times. The reading took well over a year.
Having already completed both the ESV (2016) and NASB (1977 and 1995) translations from beginning to end, I undertook the King James Version as my third full reading of the Bible. This edition—the Authorized (King James) Version, Schuyler Canterbury Wide Margin, 2019—ran to 2,007 pages, and its breadth made the undertaking substantial. The reading experience differed from the others not only in translation choices but also in cadence, phrasing, and presentation. The archaism of the KJV created a certain gravity, while the wide margins of the edition allowed the text to breathe on the page.
Completing the King James Bible today from beginning to end was a long and layered experience. It took well over a year. The text held together by its distinctive phrasing and rhythm, while each book added its own character. Reading continuously through all sixty-six books allowed the movement of the canon to stand out—themes rising, falling, and returning in unexpected ways. The translation’s cadence gave consistency even as the genres shifted sharply.
The Pentateuch opened with grandeur. Genesis set the stage with its narrative of creation, early humanity, and the beginnings of Israel through the patriarchs. Exodus was dramatic, filled with plagues, deliverance, and covenant law at Sinai. Leviticus, slower in pace, emphasized detail and order, focusing heavily on offerings and regulations. Numbers alternated between census data, travels, and rebellion. Deuteronomy functioned like a series of speeches, reviewing the past and preparing for what lay ahead. The impression across these five books was one of origin and foundation.
The Historical books presented a national storyline. Joshua carried the tone of conquest and settlement. Judges was repetitive, marked by cycles of disobedience and deliverance. Samuel and Kings tracked the rise and decline of the monarchy, mixing political detail with personal drama. Chronicles revisited much of the same history but emphasized temple and worship. Ezra and Nehemiah, in contrast, were quieter, centered on rebuilding after exile. Esther concluded the section without naming God, but providence was implied in its turns of fortune. Together these works created a sense of continuity and fracture, success and collapse.
The Wisdom and Poetry books were different in texture. Job stood apart with its sustained dialogue about suffering and divine justice. Psalms offered an anthology of prayer, praise, lament, and thanksgiving, spanning moods across its 150 entries. Proverbs presented compact sayings with moral and practical guidance. Ecclesiastes was reflective, with a sober tone on the vanity of life. Song of Solomon was lyrical and intimate, celebrating love in striking imagery. The diversity here gave a range of voices, moving from lament to celebration, from brevity to extended meditation.
The Major Prophets were weighty. Isaiah combined judgment and hope, moving between warnings and visions of restoration. Jeremiah was lengthy, marked by laments and oracles of both doom and promise. Lamentations provided a poetic record of devastation. Ezekiel stood out for its elaborate visions and symbolic actions. Daniel mixed narrative accounts of faithfulness in exile with apocalyptic imagery of kingdoms and their succession. These books conveyed scale and intensity, often shifting between historical events and cosmic visions.
The Minor Prophets, shorter but sharp, came like a series of concentrated messages. Hosea employed personal imagery to illustrate unfaithfulness. Amos spoke forcefully on justice. Micah balanced rebuke with future hope. Habakkuk unfolded as a dialogue between prophet and God. Malachi, closing the Old Testament, warned against ritual without sincerity and looked forward to a future messenger. Their brevity gave them force, making each book a direct statement before moving to the next.
The Gospels formed the centerpiece of the canon. Matthew structured its narrative around fulfillment of earlier prophecy. Mark was brisk, urgent, and direct. Luke offered fuller accounts with attention to detail and compassion. John emphasized theological reflection, presenting extended discourses and unique imagery. Reading all four consecutively brought both harmony and variation, multiple perspectives converging on the same figure and events.
Acts functioned as a continuation and expansion, narrating the spread of the early movement beyond Jerusalem. It blended speeches, journeys, and conflicts, with recurring emphasis on boldness and opposition. The structure carried a sense of outward momentum, as the message traveled from city to city and crossed cultural boundaries.
The Epistles shifted in form, presenting themselves as letters rather than narratives. Romans gave a structured exposition of doctrine. Corinthians addressed divisions and practices within a community. Galatians emphasized freedom from law, while Ephesians and Colossians developed themes of unity and Christ’s supremacy. Philippians was personal and warm in tone. The pastoral letters gave guidance for leadership and endurance. Hebrews offered a sustained argument connecting the old covenant symbols with their fulfillment. James was concise and practical. Peter and John’s letters highlighted perseverance and truth, while Jude issued warnings. The effect of reading them in order was like receiving a stream of counsel, some formal, others more personal.
Revelation closed the canon with its apocalyptic visions. The letters to the seven churches gave direct assessments, while the cycles of seals, trumpets, and bowls built in intensity. Symbolic beasts, judgments, and cosmic battles alternated with scenes of worship around the throne. The conclusion turned to images of restoration—a new heaven, a new earth, and the descent of the holy city. The language was dense with imagery, requiring slow and deliberate reading and re-reading.
Taken together, the experience of reading the KJV Bible cover-to-cover was both varied and unified. Some sections demanded patience, others moved quickly. The prose of the translation, though at times archaic, provided weight and continuity. Each genre—law, history, poetry, prophecy, gospel, letter, vision—contributed a distinct layer, yet they all pointed toward a coherent whole. The impression left was of a vast work, diverse in voice and form, yet bound together by its scope and intention.
On September 4, 2021, I completed another read-through of the Bible, this time in the English Standard Version (ESV).
The journey began in September 2017 with a deliberate goal: to read carefully, giving word-by-word attention to the text. Over four years, I maintained a consistent daily habit, reading about ninety percent of the days, with only occasional lapses. My pattern was to proceed straight through in chronological sequence from New Testament to Old Testament. Certain sections were read more than once, and throughout this extended effort I experienced enduring life changes.
During these years, my father passed away. I left one company, joined another, and advanced further in my vocation. I also completed two years of Bible college, with one year remaining, while navigating the sale of two homes in California and the building of one in Arizona. All of this unfolded against the backdrop of a global pandemic in which friends and acquaintances succumbed to COVID-19. Many other transitions occurred, yet through them all, I remain profoundly grateful for having been able to complete another reading of God’s Word—at least in its English form.
My reading habits varied with season and circumstance. Most sessions took place in the mornings, though stretches occurred in the evenings, and almost never in the afternoons. The length of each session ranged from as little as twenty to thirty minutes to several hours. Only rarely—perhaps in fewer than twenty chapters scattered across various books—did I accompany the reading with audio.
I used a color-coordinated marking system, which I intend to continue in future readings. When encountering an unfamiliar word, I often turned to the original languages—Hebrew, Greek, or Aramaic—for clarity, and compared additional translations to confirm nuance. My notes drew both from personal reflection and from hermeneutics coursework, often cross-referencing passages, recording historical background, and tracing patterns in people, places, and events that carried significance.
The physical Bible for this effort was the ESV Heirloom Wide Margin Reference Edition. I selected it for its generous, balanced margins on both left and right, which proved excellent for extensive annotation. Though the top and bottom margins are less uniform, they are still sufficient for markings. My chosen pens were Sakura Pigma Micron 005 fine tips, in red, blue, black, brown, green, orange, purple, and pink. Across four years, I consumed four packs of these pens. They performed well on the thin pages without bleeding. For highlighting, I used a yellow gel marker from Thornton’s Office Supplies. Unlike ink-based highlighters, it does not bleed, though it wrinkles pages as it dries. Even so, its retention has proven stable, and I expect the markings to endure for many years.
Below is a video that conveys what the work itself looked like. The time was well spent. It provided nourishment, strength, and clarity—gifts not found anywhere else.
Looking back, I see that this reading of Scripture intertwined with every part of my life: family, vocation, study, loss, and change. The Word of God stood constant while the world shifted around me. Pens, pages, and margins preserve the notes, but the greater record is written upon my life itself. My prayer is that these years of reading will not end as a closed chapter, but continue as living testimony that man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.
When I first started reading Scripture seriously, my world was shaped mostly by the NASB, particularly the 1977 edition. I didn’t sit down with a plan to go from Genesis to Revelation in one sweep. Instead, I bounced around by sections — a prophet here, a gospel there, some poetry, a chunk of the law. It was patchwork, but those readings were formative. They gave me something to wrestle with spiritually, even if they were also tied up with plenty of conversations, questions, and, to be honest, misunderstandings.
For years, I didn’t bother with other critical text versions like the NIV or RSV. They were around, sure, but I wasn’t reaching for them. Once in a while, I dipped into the KJV, though I had no sense of its background. I didn’t know it was loaded with history, or that it carried centuries of Protestant, Puritan, and Reformed influence. At the time, it was just another Bible with slightly strange English.
The Bibles I used through those years are still with me, full of markings and annotations. They serve as time capsules, each margin note a little window into what I thought I understood then. Looking back, those readings were surface-level — I skimmed across ideas with an interpretive simplicity that felt enough at the time. Of course, that meant plenty of errors in understanding, but also room to grow.
My church background didn’t give me a Reformation framework. I came up through the Church of the Nazarene — a Wesleyan-Arminian world — and then into a Baptist church that had no real Reformational roots. From the start, my reading was driven less by tradition and more by a plain evangelical impulse: read the Bible, figure out what it means, and live like a disciple. That was the mindset, even if it was narrow.
Along the way, I picked up some personalized Bibles. My pastor gave me a Ryrie Study Bible in high school, not long after he baptized me. A year later, in 1982, I got a KJV Bible as a birthday gift, just after coming to faith in the eleventh grade. Those two carried me a long way — the Ryrie stayed in heavy use all through my military years until I eventually shifted to the International Inductive Study Bible.
Over time, though, I came to distrust having someone’s name stamped across the cover. Whether it was the MacArthur Bible, Stanley Bible, or Ryrie Bible, I started steering clear. Even “King James,” if you think about it, is just another individual’s name fronting a translation. These days, I’d rather see a translation identified by its language base or tradition — English Standard, Greek Septuagint, Byzantine Majority — instead of by a person or even a national identity. “The Holy Bible” with a clear note about its translation type is enough.
Life carried me through long stretches of work where I was only keeping up light contact with Scripture. But eventually I settled into the ESV as my primary reading Bible. And today, after widening my scope through theological study, I’ve landed in a different place: I give the highest weight to the Majority Text and the Septuagint. In practice, that means I want to read what the apostles themselves read — the Old Testament from the Greek LXX, the New Testament from the Greek manuscripts of their own time.
It wasn’t until just before finishing my theological degree that this whole process really expanded. I began moving beyond the handful of translations I knew and dug into the manuscript traditions behind them. That was when my reading turned into something broader, something richer — not just bouncing between genres or paging through one familiar translation, but learning to navigate the wide river of Scripture as it’s come down to us across languages, traditions, and centuries.
And that’s the winding path of my Bible reading life — from NASB ’77 margins in my youth, through the Ryrie and KJV gifts, into long seasons with the ESV, and now down to the roots of the text itself. Each stage has been more than just an academic exercise; it has been a drawing closer to the Lord Jesus Christ. The notes and highlights I left behind remind me less of my own insight and more of His patience in guiding me. The longer I’ve stayed with the Word, the more I’ve discovered that Scripture is not merely about comprehension but communion — growing in affection for Christ, loving Him more deeply as He reveals Himself in every page.
If I had to sum it up for anyone beginning their own journey, it would be this: don’t worry if your first steps feel shallow or uneven. Start where you are, and stay with the Word. Over time, the text will lead you past the margins and into the heart of Christ Himself. What began for me as scattered readings in one translation has become a lifelong encounter with the living Lord. The joy isn’t just in finishing another Bible, but in learning to love the One who speaks through it, again and again.
King James Bible (KJV)
When I turned eighteen, stepping into adulthood, I was given a copy of the King James Version, Thomas Nelson 1972 edition. This Bible carried a certain weight to it — not just because of its black leather cover and gold lettering, but because of what it represented at that point in life: a gift of Scripture placed in my hands as I crossed the threshold from youth into responsibility. The language of the KJV, lofty and archaic as it seemed to me then, forced a kind of reverence. Even when I stumbled over “thees” and “thous,” I couldn’t shake the sense that I was standing on old, sacred ground, reading a text that had shaped generations before me.
Over time, I came to see this particular Bible not just as a book, but as a marker of my spiritual beginnings. Its margins are tied to the earliest days of my faith — simple underlines, early attempts at notes, and the wonder of first discovery. Looking back, I realize how much it influenced my affection for the Word. This edition of the KJV wasn’t chosen for its study notes or readability; it was given as a witness, a statement that the Scriptures should anchor me in life. Even though I’ve gone on to read many translations, this one remains set apart — the Bible of my eighteenth year, reminding me that God’s Word entered my adulthood not as an abstract text, but as a living gift.
This bible is a classic example of mid-20th-century Bible publishing. Bound in black leatherette with gold lettering on the spine and cover, it carries the familiar gravitas of the KJV tradition. The text is laid out in a clean two-column format with cross-references, offering both readability and study utility without overwhelming notes. Like most Nelson Bibles of that period, the paper is thin but durable, designed to withstand years of page-turning and light annotation, with red-letter text for the words of Christ. Its size strikes a balance between being portable and substantial — the kind of Bible meant to be carried to church as well as kept at home for daily reading.
What sets this edition apart is its sense of timelessness. The Thomas Nelson printing holds close to the traditional 1769 Oxford text of the KJV, with familiar spellings and phrasing that readers across generations would recognize. There are no modern editorial intrusions, just the translation itself, surrounded by references to guide deeper study. For someone receiving this Bible at the threshold of adulthood, it was more than just a book — it was a trusted edition of a text that has stood unchanged for centuries, presented in a form sturdy enough to last through the years. Even today, it holds its place as a reliable, reverent copy of the King James Bible, a reminder of both continuity and permanence in Scripture.
The Ryrie Study Bible (NASB)
The NASB Ryrie Study Bible, 1976 copyright by Moody Press, became my constant companion during my military years. Its brown textured cover and sturdy build gave it the feel of something meant to be used, carried, and relied upon day after day. The layout paired the New American Standard Bible’s clean double-column text with Ryrie’s notes beneath, so that the words of Scripture stood clear while interpretive help was always close at hand. It wasn’t ornate or ceremonial — it was practical, steady, and built for study and use in the everyday.
What I appreciated most about this edition was its study apparatus. Each book opened with a concise introduction, the notes pointed out key theological details, and Ryrie included doctrinal summaries that connected the pieces into a larger picture. His dispensational perspective was evident, but what struck me then was how approachable the notes were. They didn’t overwhelm the text; instead, they gave me a framework to understand how one part of Scripture tied into another. It felt like having a teacher on the page, steady and consistent, guiding me while still letting the Bible itself speak.
During those years in uniform, this Bible was far more than a study tool; it became the base text of my memory and formation. The NASB’s precision made it ideal for committing verses to heart, and countless passages I can still recall today are in the cadence of this edition. I carried it through transitions, kept it close during quiet moments, and leaned on it in seasons of discipline and duty. Its margins show the marks of those years — early notes, underlines, and reminders that faith was being worked out in the midst of real demands.
Looking back, the 1976 NASB Ryrie Study Bible is both a product of its time and a cornerstone of my spiritual growth. Unlike modern study Bibles overloaded with charts and commentary, this one held to a balance: clear translation, faithful notes, and space for me to engage directly with the text. In the intensity of military life, it was exactly the kind of Bible I needed — reliable, instructive, and rooted in the Word itself. Even now, it remains more than just a book on a shelf; it’s a witness to those formative years, when Scripture was not only read but lived.
The International Inductive Study Bible (NASB)
The NASB International Inductive Study Bible, copyright 1993 by Harvest House Publishers, became my primary Bible during my college years, picking up where the Ryrie Study Bible had left off in my military days. What stood out about this edition was its unique purpose: it wasn’t just a study Bible with notes at the bottom of the page, but a tool designed to teach me how to study the Scriptures for myself. The NASB text, already familiar to me from years of memorization and use, gave continuity and stability, while the inductive method trained me to observe, interpret, and apply the text in a much more deliberate way.
This Bible was structured for participation. Wide margins, helpful charts, and guided outlines invited me to mark key words, underline repeated themes, and trace the flow of argument through entire books. Instead of passively receiving a commentator’s conclusions, I was asked to slow down, to notice details, and to wrestle directly with what the text was saying. That process deepened my confidence in Scripture, showing me that careful observation could yield clarity and insight without having to lean solely on outside helps.
In practice, this Bible became my training ground for disciplined reading. The NASB’s precision provided the framework for accurate study, and the inductive format helped me take the verses I had already memorized in the earlier years and now place them in their broader biblical context. It was the bridge between raw memorization and theological understanding, a place where faith and intellect began to meet in structured devotion. During long hours of study in those college years, this Bible kept me grounded, pressing me not just to gather knowledge but to let the Word speak freshly and personally.
Looking back, the 1993 NASB International Inductive Study Bible was more than a continuation of my time in the NASB — it was a step forward in maturity. Where the Ryrie Bible gave me doctrinal guardrails, the Inductive Bible gave me tools to build my own framework of study, always returning to the text itself. Its durability shows the years of heavy use, and its margins bear the marks of learning to listen more carefully to the voice of Scripture. To this day, I see it as one of the most formative Bibles of my life — not because it told me what to believe, but because it taught me how to read.
Classic Thinline (ESV)
The ESV Classic Thinline Edition, copyright 2002 by Crossway and using the 2007 text, became my Bible of choice in the years following my MBA. Slim, lightweight, and bound in a simple brown cover, it had the portability and durability to go wherever I did. After years of carrying heavier, note-filled study Bibles, the thinline format felt refreshing — easy to slip into a bag, hold during church, or read late at night without distraction. The format alone encouraged me to focus on the text itself, without the constant pull of notes and cross-references dominating the page.
This edition marked the beginning of my departure from the NASB, which had been my anchor for memorization and study through military and college years. The English Standard Version struck me differently: smoother in cadence, more literary in phrasing, and easier to read aloud. It wasn’t a betrayal of precision — the ESV still carried the weight of formal equivalence — but it opened up the Scriptures in a way that felt more natural, less rigid, and better suited for meditation. That shift signaled a new phase in my reading life, where I began to value readability and continuity alongside precision.
The 2007 text of the ESV refined what Crossway had launched in 2001, smoothing out wording and consistency across the canon. I noticed those refinements, especially since I was so used to the granular detail of the NASB. Over time, I came to appreciate the balance it struck — still serious and faithful to the original languages, but written in English that read as if it belonged to my own generation rather than a technical classroom. This balance made the ESV an ideal Bible for devotion, teaching, and daily use.
Looking back, this thinline edition served as a quiet but significant pivot point. It wasn’t loaded with features or designed for scholarly depth, but it carried the ESV text in a form that was both practical and elegant. It represented a transition from the strict discipline of NASB precision toward a broader, more literary engagement with Scripture. Even as I’ve moved through other translations since then, I still remember this Bible as the one that opened the door to reading Scripture not only as data to be studied and memorized, but as a narrative and testimony to be absorbed with affection.
Conclusion: The Steady Voice of Scripture
Looking back across these years, every Bible I’ve used has carried its own place in my life. The NASB gave me discipline and accuracy, grounding me in the very words of Scripture. The Ryrie Study Bible steadied me through my military years, the Inductive Bible taught me to slow down and study for myself, and the KJV impressed on me the weight of tradition and permanence. Later, the ESV brought a lighter touch — still faithful, but with a cadence that made the text easier to read and absorb.
What threads through all of these is not the translation choice or the cover design, but the steady voice of Scripture itself. My underlines, notes, and even the places where I misunderstood were part of the process of growing in Christ. These Bibles show their years with worn edges and fading print, but they have carried me through again and again. In the end, it isn’t about which edition sits on the table or goes with me to church — it’s about meeting the Lord in His Word, letting those pages shape me, and carrying that truth into the life He has given me.
The Ancient Way explores how tradition, reason, and Scripture work together in the search for truth. Through a series of questions and answers, the composition examines how personal beliefs, human understanding, and traditions can sometimes assume authority that belongs to God. It leads toward surrender, where reason and tradition are not rejected but placed in subordinate relationship to Scripture.
Original Composition
The original composition brings together lyrics, melody, instrumentation, and arrangement to express personal experiences, observations, and reflections drawn from different seasons of life. Each work develops its own musical character, conveying meaning through both direct expression and the subtleties of imagery, symbolism, and interpretation.
The Ancient Way
Who taught these hands to hold the crown? Who gave these thoughts a throne? And if the road is ancient truth, Why do I walk as though it’s mine?
I walked the paths my fathers knew, And gathered wisdom from their years. I built my reasons stone by stone, And called conviction free from fear.
But what is old—is it therefore true? And what is new—must it deceive? Can I condemn what I don’t know, Or sanctify what I believe?
Who gave the mind its right to rule? Who taught the heart to trust its sight? If wisdom calls me to be still, Why do I struggle with the light?
Show me the ancient way, Where truth outlives the hands of time. Strip the crowns from all I’ve made, Lay every thought beneath Your light. Let what is faithful stand its ground, Let what is false be swept away. I will not worship what I’ve found— Lead me in the ancient way.
I asked, “Can reason lead me home?” But who gave reason eyes to see? I asked, “Can centuries be wrong?” And heard, “Then search what they believed.”
I asked, “Must everything be tried?” “Hold fast to good; examine all.” I asked, “And when my judgments rise?” “Take every thought beneath My call.”
But if the Word should wound my pride, Shall I accuse the blade of wrong? And if the path corrects my stride, Was I the guide—or led along?
Show me the ancient way, Where truth outlives the hands of time. Strip the crowns from all I’ve made, Lay every thought beneath Your light. Let what is faithful stand its ground, Let what is false be swept away. I will not worship what I’ve found— Lead me in the ancient way.
I searched the page to prove my claim. The page searched deeper into me. I came to weigh the words of God— And found my heart upon the scales.
What have I kept that You require? What have I crowned that You condemn? If every argument is ash, Will I still follow where You lead?
Not every ancient stone is false. Not every voice of old is vain. But none shall wear the Master’s crown, And none shall make His Word a chain.
Lead me in the ancient way, Where faithful feet have walked before. Take every crown these hands have raised; I lay them at my Savior’s door. Let wisdom teach and reason serve, Let truth correct what I have made. No throne remains for me to guard— I yield to You, the ancient way.
I came with answers in my hands. I leave with open palms.
The Ancient Voice is about the power, perfection, and lasting authority of God’s written Word, drawing on the Most High’s encounter with Job. Through questions about creation, wisdom, and the limits of human understanding, the composition reveals how easily people can become too confident in what they think they know. God’s Word remains true and unchanged, while those who receive it are humbled, corrected, and given a clearer understanding of Him.
Original Composition
The original composition brings together lyrics, melody, instrumentation, and arrangement to express personal experiences, observations, and reflections drawn from different seasons of life. Each work develops its own musical character, conveying meaning through both direct expression and the subtleties of imagery, symbolism, and interpretation.
The Ancient Voice
I knew the thunder chapter and verse, I turned its pages without fear. I thought I held its measure fast, Until the question found me there.
Where were you when I laid the earth? Who shut the sea behind its doors?
Ancient Voice, through ink and ages, What You have spoken does not bend. The names of kings are ground to powder; Their laws decay, their glories end. No hand can lend Your Word its power; It searches every heart that reads.
Who holds the storehouses of snow? Who binds the Pleiades in place? Who tells the lightning where to strike? Who sets the bounds of mortal sight?
No letter shifted on the page. Yet every thought I trusted shook.
Ancient Voice, through ink and ages, What You have spoken does not bend. The names of kings are ground to powder; Their laws decay, their glories end. No hand can lend Your Word its power; It searches every heart that reads.
I read as though I held the scales, And made my limits into law. The questions struck the hidden place Where presumption wore the face of awe. No fault lay hidden in the writing; The wound was in the one who read.
I had rehearsed a thousand questions. Now I cannot finish one.
The thoughts I trusted tear through me. The ground beneath my certainty is gone.
I trace the ink with shaking hands. The words are where they always were.
While Hamilton’s book reads as a commentary throughout the canon, he effectively brings to mind his overall point. The center of biblical theology as God’s glory in salvation through judgment is the standing assertion of his book and it is an effective representation of his worldview about the reading of God’s holy words. Salvation as the soteriological purpose of the text concerns humanity’s interest toward the purpose of what God communicates through His appointed writers. However, while Hamilton touches on the meta-narratives adjacent to the plain meaning of Scripture, he does so from both horizontal and vertical perspectives. However, the important and pervasive subtext of scripture is that Christ was out to reclaim humanity and return it to the Creator by what He accomplished. The accession and triumph of Christ Jesus through His life, death, resurrection, ascension, and coronation, redeemed to God human creation that which is rightfully His. In the fulness of time, until all His enemies are made a footstool, the Kingdom was set to stand where the gates of hell shall not withstand it.
Through the timeless covenant of triadic love and unity, bearers of the Imago Dei would return to YHWH through means He appointed. From covenant to covenant, we see that unfold throughout the pages of scripture.
Hamilton’s conclusions in the last chapter of the book call readers to biblically centered ministry that involves intensive attention toward evangelism, discipleship, corrective church discipline, personal spiritual disciplines, bible reading, and prayer. This entire chapter is a refreshing perspective about what to do about biblical theology as it is developed within the hearts and minds of believers.
There were various places where I think he could have further developed some of his perspectives, but here are a few I noted.
Hamilton could have elaborated more about the difference between a circumcised heart of the OT and the indwelling of the Spirit in the NT.
Jesus’ gratitude for concealing revelation in some passages (Lk 10:21-22).
N.T. Wright is cited (pg. 404), but he is a social gospel advocate. Meaning, Wright is on record where he wrote that salvation is attained through ecclesiological efforts. Hamilton’s work here is dated back to 2010, so I suppose it’s limited in terms of growing NPP advocacy.
Low View of Scripture within the Church
Hamilton’s book led me to buy another text written by Kevin Vanhoozer (details here) entitled, Hearers and Doers: A Pastor’s Guide to Making Disciples Through Scripture and Doctrine. I’m going to read that book because its sections are just so relevant today in a world of social chaos. It’s my limited view that, in general, the evangelical church in the West is an epic disaster. It is a ghetto of theological thought as its faith and practice are too often vacant of scriptural principles and imperatives. Have a close look at this year’s SBC convention (2022), for example. And the breakup of various denominations in recent years.
Churches are largely social centers of well-being that are good for the local community and missions abroad for the gospel. Churches are a source of free volunteer labor for cities.
Over the course of the last year, I’ve firsthand observed that in nearly every church I visited, attendees don’t bring a bible. The same is true by monitoring live-streamed services among very many congregations online. Podium Tedtalks wouldn’t have as much use of Scripture.
You may have already seen this. It’s a research project involving about 400,000 participants. The research yielded the following conclusions:
Bible reading 1 day a week: No effect on participant Bible reading 2 days a week: No effect on participant Bible reading 3 days a week: Negligible effect on participant Bible reading 4+ days a week: Pronounced effect that differentiated people of belief
Predominately, new and seasoned believers among all denominations don’t read their bibles. No exceptions. Therefore, they do not know God as well as they should (if at all).
It’s my view that the canon itself is inspired. In addition to the root text of Scripture. However, we let the words of our bible guide our convictions about spiritual development. Biblical theology deepens our understanding of what God meant by the Word written on the heart — to know the Lord personally and in a saving way distinct from cultural conditions historically among synagogues or churches. I’m aware of the LXX use among the apostles as their “bible”, the first century Hebrew Scripture, as well as the development of scrolls and codices to pixels.
God’s Word written on the hearts of His people is a fruit of the new covenant (Jer 31:33, Heb 10:16). It’s also my view that the condition of the modern evangelical church is pretty bleak. Largely because very many don’t recognize or accept the authority of Scripture; never mind simple inattention to what it says.
As we all know, our Lord Jesus says that His disciples continue in His Word (John 8:31-32). So, while we have a lot of undiscipled converts in the church, there are quite a large number of people hungry for the Word, truth, and meaning. There are also very many goats in the church, too. And where shallow theology exists, there you’ll find shallow preaching and shallow worship. The deeper one goes into the doctrine of Scripture, the deeper our faith becomes. The deeper our worship and reverence as well. See Parsons on this.
Also consider James 1:21, “Therefore put away all filthiness and rampant wickedness and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.” In addition to what we learn about the inspiration of Scripture, Dustin Benge reminds us that the Spirit speaks through Scripture and I believe him as well. Here are a few additional points of interest that are top of mind from the Navigators merely as I write these comments.
Hear God’s Word (Rom 10:17) – Weakest form of scripture intake. Since we retain roughly 5% of what we hear.
Read God’s Word (Rev 1:3) – Daily devotion is a separate dedicated time with the Lord in His word without intermingled distractions (like a phone). We retain roughly 15% of what we read which is why we need to keep at it.
Study God’s Word (Acts 17:11) – Active in-depth analysis to search the Scriptures builds biblical fluency (Deut 6:5, Matt 22:37:40, Mark 12:30). The more we study, the more we retain.
Memorize God’s Word (Ps 119:9-11, Matt 4:4) – Jesus modeled for us the necessity of the Word to overcome temptation. So that we do not offend the God we love or harm others. He recited Scripture from memory and it was a powerful means of preventing devastating consequences. God’s Word is our sustenance. For the believer with the indwelling Spirit, the Word is our nourishment.
Meditate on God’s Word (Ps 1:2,3) – This is transformative as we allow all methods of intake to reach us deeper within. We yield to the Holy Spirit as God’s Word takes root, shapes our hearts, and forms within us an inexpressible love of God.
Scripture Is a Crucial Instructional Guide
Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” – Matthew 28:19–20 (ESV)
The word “observe” here is translated in a passive sense, but when we check BDAG, here’s a clearer definition:
③ to persist in obedience, keep, observe, fulfill, pay attention to, esp. of law and teaching (LXX) τὶ someth. (Polyb. 1, 83, 5 legal customs; Herodian 6, 6, 1; Just., A I, 49, 3 τὰ παλαιὰ ἔθη) Mt 23:3; Ac 21:25 v.l.; Hs 5, 3, 9. • τὸν νόμον (Achilles Tat. 8, 13, 4; Tob 14:9; TestDan 5:1. • τὰ νόμιμα τοῦ θεοῦ Hv 1, 3, 4 (τηρ. τὰ νόμιμα as Jos., Ant. 8, 395; 9, 222). • δικαιώματα κυρίου B 10:11. • τὰ πρὸς τὸν κύριον AcPl Ha 8, 11; 13. • πάντα ὅσα ἐνετειλάμην ὑμῖν Mt 28:20.
William Arndt et al., A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000), 1002.
So, what is it to obey, specifically? A few years ago I thoroughly read and studied John Piper’s Book What Jesus Demands from the World. You can get a free PDF of it here: Book Copy. The desiringGod folks made it free for everyone. I chose a printed book version, plus the digital copy to listen to while at times reading at the same time.
The book extracts each and every specific instruction/command Jesus gave to His followers (as He spoke about in Matt 28:20 above). That discipleship is to train people to specifically do what He said. There are 50 commands, instructions, or imperatives within the gospels that Jesus spoke. This book is a walk-through of each. It is a blessing to see where exactly we can obey, but also see where the gaps are among churches that don’t. This is where pastors and church leaders are not fully obeying, or fulfilling their obligation (among various other areas).
“If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” – John 14:15 (ESV)
To see what these imperatives are, I put together verse memory cards to review and check myself to stimulate interest, dwell upon, and act toward. I cut them to size and glued them to card stock. What Jesus Demands from the World Cards:
In addition to the disciplines of prayer, worship, fellowship, scripture, and sharing of our faith, we need to be primarily attentive to what our King wants.
So I would also like to offer an opportunity for you to consider:
Just as a matter of clarity, the practice of Biblical Theology is to understand the “theology” of biblical books or their authors in original grammatical, cultural, and historical contexts. Without imposing any modern categories of thought on the text. There is an internal unity of the text interspersed throughout diverse scriptural genres (narratives, poetry, letters, wisdom literature, etc.). The biblical narratives are self-referentially coherent. The narratives between the Old and New Testaments correspond with various modes of authoritative meaning to derive principles, imperatives, and specific instructions concerning faith and practice.
Narrative stories approached theologically inform readers for pastoral utility or academic use to support doctrine and sound beliefs to satisfy covenant obligations of the church and individuals. Biblical theology helps us understand the narratives to yield the fruit of truth as God’s revelation to humanity. Where it becomes clear who abides by objective truth according to valid hermeneutical methods and who doesn’t (i.e., intertextuality, intended interpretation, etc.). Moreover, chronologically sequenced narratives establish presuppositions of biblical authors. Presuppositions in which readers rest upon God’s word as truth according to what authors actually meant without inferior social, religious, or academic interest.
Someone who might think Scripture, or the gospels are merely moral stories misses the larger scope and depth of God’s Word, the Bible.
The gospels are a story about a new exodus. Deliverance from one type of slavery in the OT that later became deliverance and freedom from another in the NT
Christ Jesus fulfilled expectations to satisfy God’s judgment over sin
Christ Jesus came to fulfill the law as articulated in the gospel narratives
Jesus performed many miracles
Jesus saved many people from temporal and eternal judgment and condemnation
Jesus gathered sinners to Him and gave them hope
Jesus set the conditions for acceptance or rejection
Jesus fulfilled prophecy in numerous recorded events in the gospels
Jesus formed and incubated a Kingdom on Earth in the form of His Church
Jesus called many to repentance
Jesus demonstrated compassion to his followers and enemies
Jesus was a model of Godly living
Jesus warned of judgment and eternal permanent conscious misery to unbelievers
Jesus introduced sacraments, instructions on prayer, and how to worship
Jesus offered eternal life to those who would repent, trust, and follow Him.
Questions to highlight the interconnected nature of Scripture largely converge toward the gospels in the life and identity of Christ.
While reading through The Hermeneutics of the Biblical Writers again,I noted various points of interest that I found helpful. There were many excellent points I wrote out separately while reading the book’s chapters. This outline is of some perspectives that stood out and serve as valuable examples.
Jesus drew upon the logic of the OT writers
Jesus adhered to principles from the old covenant that extended to the new covenant
Jesus recognized the biblical writer’s claims and roles in redemptive history
The gospel writers were in thought continuity about OT subject matter
Christ’s claims instantiated the grounds that the gospel writers interpreted and applied OT Scripture (i.e., recognition of new and progressive revelation) to derive imperatives and illocutionary force
The biblical writers attached new and consistent meaning to earlier authors’ authority
The presuppositions of biblical authors were informed by the continuity of OT covenants, humanity’s redemptive history, and YHWH’s soteriological purpose
“Look among the nations, and see; wonder and be astounded. For I am doing a work in your days that you would not believe if told.” – Hab 1:5
Look, see, wonder, and be astounded at what God has done during redemptive history during OT and NT revelation
Making Coherent Scripture Connections
Let Scripture illuminate Scripture. There are numerous allusions, echoes, citations, and quotes between the biblical writers. Let’s recognize them to interpret and understand what they meant. The continuity of the prophetic and apostolic hermeneutic rests upon the logical biblical writer’s expression of Scriptural intertextuality. They were models for believers today who seek to interpret and understand revelation according to proper methods of interpretation. The development of biblical theologies is guided by what God wrote through a corpus of texts by authors He appointed. Let’s abide by what He brought together through them for generations who seek Him by His Word.
The Master’s Seminary posted a video series (31-lectures) of Dr. Thomas Schreiner’s course of Biblical Theology. In the first lecture, he briefly points to James Hamilton’s work (very end of the video). Notably, concerning the trace work of passages that concern biblical concepts that extend to further passages through historical and theological development. While Schreiner spoke of the Biblical Theology of God’s Glory in Salvation through Judgmenttext, he also made a vague reference to Hamilton’s paper The Skull Crushing Seed of the Woman: Inner-Biblical Interpretation of Genesis 3:15. Anyone can download the paper (PDF copy) from the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary.
I highly suspect that Hamilton’s paper about Genesis 3:15 from 2006 had a bearing on his biblical theology text as it was published in 2010. In the Genesis 3:15 paper (The Skull Crushing Seed of the Woman: Inner-Biblical Interpretation of Genesis 3:15), Hamilton wrote about biblical connections; not explicitly as an example of a method, but of substance.
Dr. Abner Chou’s hermeneutics text is an excellent complementary view about the how with Hamilton’s textbook example concerning the what and why. To unearth the treasures of biblical theologies from God’s appointed writers. — So, in this case, and in many places, the crushing, smashing, and puncturing of the head of the enemy, beginning from Genesis 3:15, shows up in various canonical texts to definitively record what would happen again and again both literally and figuratively. By this connect the dots approach, Hamilton demonstrates that the OT canon as a whole is a messianic document with soteriological continuity straight from the garden. Which is utterly amazing.
In addition to the Hamilton paper I read this afternoon, I also highly recommend Schreiner’s Biblical Theology 31-lecture series he gave to TMS some while back.
I also gathered quite a bit from Dr. Chou’s book concerning the prophetic and apostolic hermeneutic. To where their hermeneutic becomes the Christian hermeneutic. Having read Dr. Chou’s book twice, the intertextual relationships between the biblical materials are important to grasp.
There really is quite a bit there when running a topical course as a biblical theology of interest. For example, here are a few screen captures below from the Logos application I use to visually see what relationships exist. Many theologians, exegetes, pastors, and students use this tool. A lot of bible students use this application and I highly recommend it.
Conducting intertextual analysis is much more efficient this way and all the links of NT to OT and OT to NT are visually mapped with active multi-dimensional links between all passages in the canon. This example below, among very many, is about Jesus from both testaments intertextually linked bringing to the surface contours of meaning. As patterns of continuity among the biblical authors (such as comparing what Isaiah said about Messiah as compared to Ezekiel). From the New Testament’s use of the Old alone, there are 2,574 total allusions, citations, echoes, and quotations definitively mapped. However, there’s quite a bit more from a lateral perspective.
Example – The Intertextuality of Biblical Christology
Example – The Christological Intertextuality of Isaiah to the NT
Example – The Christological Intertextuality of Hebrews to the OT
Of course, any book combination between the OT and NT can be selected. And once a link (or strand) is clicked, a grid of reference listing is rendered for the patterns, contours, citations, quotations, allusions, and echoes. As we traverse specific topics to recognize and understand biblical theology, it is with limited results since the text is translated to English. But the breadth and depth are more comprehensive this way to get a rich and full meaning. In my view, full immersion within these tools is time well spent.
As Jonah was an obstinate and disobedient prophet of YHWH, he refused the LORD’s instructions to travel to the city of Nineveh in Assyria and warn them of destruction. Due to the great evil in Nineveh, they were subject to what God would do to…
Back from Adam through Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and David, there were covenants that were formed between Yahweh and His chosen people. None of which contradicted another, but in some respects superseded or reiterated the promises of Yahweh’s blessings in exchange for the continued love…