Faith

Faith

A pleasant life, our village liv’d,

Yet faith untried.

Our fishnets full,

And each spring's harvest bountiful,

So far from all the furies of Rome.

And yet, it was not half enough.

Oh, not at first,

Our gentle life,

Quiet, happy, and free,

‘Until He challeng’d, ‘Now follow me!’

Each step we took, a step of faith

Where e'er He led.

Tested through trials,

By fire the dross of doubt removed,

Till faith shone from God's glorious grace.

Yet ever on he nudged our faith:

‘Step from the boat,’

‘Remove this mount,’

‘Carry your cross and follow me,’

‘Confess my name before all the world.’

At last was set faith's final test:

Gethsemane,

Golgotha's cross,

God's glory fastened to a tree.

He drank the dregs from His Father's cup.

Though faltered then our trembling faith,

For us He pray’d,

Till faith returned;

That we now firmly testify,

'Jesus Christ is risen from the grave!'

We followed to faith's lofty heights:

God crucified,

Sin Sacrifice,

Ourselves forgiven by His blood,

Reborn by faith through God's lavish love.

This foll'wer then did true faith find,

Unfaltering.

Our faithful Friend,

Who died for us, His life for ours!

And by His grace through faith I'll follow on.

The Parable of the Altered Man

The master announced to his disciples that they would take the train to London, where they would learn ‘lessons from the cathedral’.  The disciples prepared for the journey, a little curious what the master might have meant by ‘lessons from the cathedral’.  Why not, ‘in the cathedral’?  Was the lesson from the cathedral itself instead of from the words of a lecturer?  And which cathedral?  Yet they were excited at the prospect of spending some time in London.

Upon their arrival early the next day, the master had his disciples position themselves nearby one of the entrances to the cathedral.  After half an hour, a black limousine arrived.  Out stepped three men, wearing white gloves and colourful aprons, badges, and other items marking them as Freemasons.  They carried a wooden box that was marked on one side with the words, ‘Cathedral Contributions.’  Half an hour later, the three men returned, accompanied by a bishop.  The bishop shook their hands and offered a grateful smile.

The master then led his disciples around to another entrance to the cathedral and, once again, had his disciples take up positions nearby.  A group of workers were carrying things out of the church building.  Several boxes emerged first, all marked ‘library.’  The master had one of the disciples enquire from the workers as to the boxes’ contents.  ‘Bibles,’ they replied.  ‘This box includes Bibles of historical worth to the British Library, but most of the boxes are just of recent publication.  They are not of any use and are just taking up space.’

Interestingly, they were also carrying boxes into the cathedral.  ‘And what are you carrying into the cathedral?’ one of the disciples asked.  ‘These are some other books—not sure what,’ said one of the workers.  ‘Here, have a look for yourself.’  The disciple looked into the box and raised a copy of the Koran for the others to see.

‘Shall we see what is transpiring on the other side of the cathedral?’ asked a disciple.  ‘Not just yet,’ replied the master.  So they waited until all the boxes were carted to the awaiting lorry or unloaded from it and delivered inside.  Then the workers began to carry out crosses.  A priest stood by, apparently overseeing the work.  A disciple approached him.  ‘Are you having these removed for cleaning?’  ‘Oh, no,’ said the priest.  ‘We’re having them removed.  A hideous symbol, don’t you think?  A cruel symbol of pain and death.’  ‘But it reminds us of Christ’s sacrificial death for us,’ protested the disciple.  ‘And what was that all about?’ replied the priest.  ‘Nothing more than a challenge that we are so sinful that we needed someone to die a bloody, painful death for us.  In a day and age when we are trying to be inclusive and celebrate diversity, we can’t go around telling people that they are sinners or that they need to repent and believe to be included in our community.  The cross is a divisive symbol speaking of sin and death.’

Next, the workers began the exhausting work of removing pews from the cathedral.  The master suggested that the disciples purchase some lunch from the nearby market and return quickly.  When they did, they found the workers carrying round tables into the cathedral.  The priest in charge explained to a disciple, ‘round tables are excellent for holding engaging conversations to listen to others who are different from ourselves and reach new levels of mutual understanding.  Those pews set us up for an authoritarian teaching from a book from the old world, but we want to hear from real, living people about their life stories.  If necessary, we will reach good disagreement through these facilitated conversations, which we like to call ‘indaba’—a Zulu word, by the way.  Having shared conversations is so refreshing after centuries of the Church telling people what to believe.’  The disciple noticed that, since lunch, the priest had changed out of his clerical clothing.

A bit wobbly, the disciple crossed the street again to join the other disciples.  Moments later, a Druid in a purple shirt, carrying a book of poetry, and a Muslim imam joined the priest, and the three of them entered together.  They seemed like old friends.  Someone began to put up advertisements on light poles for the coming Sunday, featuring an imam speaking to the congregation and reading from the Koran.

The master suggested that they reposition themselves now on the opposite side of the building.  Here some other workers were placing garden lights along the path, facing the cathedral wall.  ‘Alright,’ called one of them into a cell phone, ‘turn them on.’  To the disciples’ utter amazement, the wall of the cathedral lit up in a colourful rainbow.  A woman carrying a very large rainbow flag passed by a few minutes later.  She was about to enter the cathedral when one of the disciples asked what she was doing.  She gave him an irritated look, but replied, ‘This will hang at the front of the cathedral.’  ‘But isn’t the cross hanging there?’  ‘Not anymore,’ she replied, with a wry smile.

The disciples continued to watch the busy activity at the cathedral.  Elton John showed up with David Cameron at one point and, while the nature of their visit remained a mystery, the disciples did hear the organ ring out with ‘A Good Heart’.  A worker carried out a large placard of some historical interest that read, ‘Society for the Propagation of the Gospel’. 

When the disciples thought that they had seen it all, the Archbishop showed up to examine a major renovation of the gate to the cathedral grounds.  One of the stone sides of the gate was removed in order to widen it.  ‘It was already wide enough, of course,’ said one of the workers to a disciple.  ‘But the archbishop thinks it is too narrow.  He wants what he calls a gate of ‘radical inclusion’.  We’re building the widest gate in London.’

‘I think we have learned enough,’ the master finally said.  The disciples were glad to hear this and thought that they might head to see London Bridge.  ‘We want to make sure it isn’t falling down,’ quipped one of the disciples.  Instead, the master began to teach.  ‘A certain man suffered a terrible accident.  He had to have two legs amputated and was fitted with prosthetic legs.  He had a liver and heart transplant.  His face had been greatly disfigured, but after ten cosmetic surgeries, he was given an entirely new face.  Nobody could recognise the man after all the changes.  Even his voice was altered, having been severely damaged.  He now spoke with a squeaky, high pitched voice.  However, when old friends talked with him, they knew that this was the same man.  Despite all the changes that were made, he still had the same memories and perceptions.’

The disciples wondered how this story related to their day at the cathedral.  This Church of England is like the altered man.  Both are going through significant changes on the outside.  But this Church is also different from the altered man.  What the Church of England is doing is destroying its memories and perceptions and creating a new Church for the twenty-first century.  It is changing its very soul. Its doctrines are different.  Its ethics are different.  Its authorities are different.  It is adding new liturgies to celebrate what it once called ‘sin’.  While people think that they are visiting the same cathedral that has stood here for 1,000 years because the stone walls are still the same and in the same place, it is, in fact, no longer a Christian church at all.  The man in the parable was changed outwardly, but inwardly he was still the same person.  The Church of England still looks very much the same outwardly, despite all the changes we saw today, but inwardly it has been transformed into another religion altogether.’

The Importance of Being Right: Comments on Eugene Peterson’s The Message

Oscar Wilde’s hilarious play, ‘The Importance of Being Earnest,’ focuses our attention on a particular virtue.  But being earnest does not hold a candle to being right!  Being sincere counts for nothing if one is sincerely wrong.  This, in a word, captures the problem with Eugene Peterson’s The Message.  Personal perspectives on Scripture simply cannot replace careful Bible translation and interpretation any more than they should guide pastoral care based on the truth.

Eugene Peterson has been in the news this past week about a flip-flop on his views on homosexuality, and then a simple wave of his hand at the issue—a major embarrassment for anyone in either pastoral ministry or theological education, let alone both.[1]  Yet his error goes deeper—even to altering the Scriptures themselves.  His opinion on homosexuality is actually not important to the Church, though his ramblings will, no doubt, injure some people’s faith.  An individual scholar’s opinions, though, are simply not relevant to the Church’s unchanging witness through the centuries to the truth or the authoritative teaching of Scripture on an issue.  Consider how Peterson’s Biblical paraphrase, The Message, handled key New Testament texts that deal with homosexuality.

Romans 1:26-27

The Message

Romans 1.26 Worse followed. Refusing to know God, they soon didn't know how to be human either - women didn't know how to be women, men didn't know how to be men.  27 Sexually confused, they abused and defiled one another, women with women, men with men - all lust, no love. And then they paid for it, oh, how they paid for it - emptied of God and love, godless and loveless wretches.

The New Revised Standard Version

Romans 1:26-27 For this reason God gave them up to degrading passions. Their women exchanged natural intercourse for unnatural,  ²⁷ and in the same way also the men, giving up natural intercourse with women, were consumed with passion for one another. Men committed shameless acts with men and received in their own persons the due penalty for their error.

Peterson’s rendering of the text obscures the issue of lesbianism in verse 26.  In verse 27, he focuses the problem on abuse and lust rather than the acts themselves.  Even the NRSV’s more literal translation is not as helpful as it might have been.  It translates ‘natural use’ with ‘natural intercourse.’  This is a decent translation, to be sure, but the word ‘use’ is actually an important part of Paul’s point, since he is talking about the use of sexual organs according to their natural purpose.  Whether or not we might believe that the NRSV needs improvement, Peterson’s paraphrase totally misses the point.

1 Corinthians 6:9

The Message
1 Corinthians 6.9 Don't you realize that this is not the way to live? Unjust people who don't care about God will not be joining in his kingdom. Those who use and abuse each other, use and abuse sex….

New Revised Standard Version

Do you not know that wrongdoers will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived! Fornicators, idolaters, adulterers, male prostitutes, sodomites….

The two words that address homosexuality in 1 Corinthians 6.9 are ‘malakoi’—‘soft men’—and ‘arsenokoitai’—‘men going to bed with men’.  The first word, ‘malakoi’, fits into a major discussion in ancient philosophy about people who lack self-control, particularly in sexual matters.  It was also further used in reference to men with a homosexual, feminine orientation.[2]  This is how Paul uses the word in a list of three sexual sins: adultery, soft men, and men having sex with men. 

The second word appears to have been Paul’s own creation—a compound of the words ‘men’ and ‘bed’ (a euphemism for sex in Greek as in English).  The words are found together in Leviticus 20.13, to which Paul is undoubtedly alluding.  (Old Testament sexual ethics remain in place for the Church.) The word essentially means ‘men bedders’ and focusses on the act of homosexual intercourse rather than, as malakoi, on the orientation and its consequences for a person’s whole disposition in life.  The correct translation of these words has escaped translators far too often, sadly.  The English Standard Version, for example, simply collapses the two terms into ‘men who practice homosexuality’.  The New Revised Standard Version limits ‘malakoi’ far too much.  It is possible to understand one example of ‘soft men’ as those men who receive sex from another man, and some of these people were male prostitutes.  Yet the word is far broader than this single category, and it could lead some people to think that the issue is really about prostitution when ‘prostitute’ is not in the Greek text at all! 

The second term, ‘arsenokoitai,’ is translated as ‘sodomites’ in the New Revised Standard Version.  ‘Sodomites’ is a term for homosexuals with a lengthy history, since the men of Sodom in Genesis 19 sought to engage in homosexual sex with Lot’s visitors.  The problem with this translation in 1 Corinthians 6.9 is that it brings Genesis 19 into focus, whereas this is not the case.  Moreover, some interpreters of Genesis 19 have tried to understand the passage to mean anything but homosexuality!  While these alternative understandings are certainly wrong, use of ‘Sodomites’ in 1 Corinthians 6.9 could lead a reader who is familiar with these mistaken views on Genesis 19 to think Paul is talking about something other than homosexuality.  Again, he does not say ‘Sodomites’ but ‘men having sex with other men’ (with no distinction between those receiving or those giving the sex, as some interpreters have suggested for these two words in this passage).

These problems with translations pale, however, when one turns to The Message.  The rendering of the verse is completely botched.  The two words under discussion that capture aspects of homosexuality are totally obscured: the reader does not even know the subject of homosexuality is in view.

1 Timothy 1:10

The Message

1 Timothy 1.10 sex, truth, whatever!

The New Revised Standard Version

1 Timothy 1:10 fornicators, sodomites, slave traders, liars, perjurers, and whatever else is contrary to the sound teaching…

As with Peterson’s rendering of 1 Corinthians 6.9, one is not aware in 1 Timothy 1.10 that Paul is presenting a sin list.  Persons needing to see that the early Church and New Testament authors opposed the slave trade will not see this in The Message’s paraphrase of the verse.  Nor will they see that this verse affirms what was said in the sin list of 1 Corinthians 1.9 about homosexual men going to bed with one another.  Paul uses the same complex word, arsenokoitai, as in 1 Corinthians 6.9.

Jude 7 

The Message

Jude 7 Sodom and Gomorrah, which went to sexual rack and ruin along with the surrounding cities that acted just like them, are another example. Burning and burning and never burning up, they serve still as a stock warning.

The New Revised Standard Version

Jude 7 Likewise, Sodom and Gomorrah and the surrounding cities, which, in the same manner as they, indulged in sexual immorality and pursued unnatural lust, serve as an example by undergoing a punishment of eternal fire.

As with his handling of Romans 1.26-27, Peterson focuses on sexual excess in his rendering of Jude 7: ‘burning and burning’.  He catches the connection between Sodom and sexual immorality, but he misses the ‘unnatural lust’ picked up by the New Revised Standard Version.  The word ‘lust’ is not in the Greek, but the New Revised Standard Version does point the reader to the issue of the unnatural act of homosexuality by its translation of ‘other flesh’ in the Greek.[3]

Conclusion

Thus, we see a consistent re-interpretation of New Testament texts on homosexuality by Peterson in the New Testament.  The problem begins already with the choice to produce a paraphrase rather than encourage people to use a translation.  One of the most distressing things to see is a ‘seasoned’ Christian walking around with a paraphrase like The Message.  This suggests an ignorance of the difference between Bible translations and paraphrases.  The Message is not a Bible translation and should not be used for Bible reading or Bible study.  A paraphrase is closer to being a commentary.  

Even so, Peterson’s handling of key New Testament texts on homosexuality suggest that his personal views come out in his paraphrase.  It is very difficult to avoid the conclusion that Peterson intended to undermine the meaning of the text in his paraphrase and, perhaps, thereby indicate his rejection of the text of Scripture.

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[1] See, e.g., Jake Meador, ‘Eugene Peterson Shrugs: Why Theological Indifference is Worse Than Progressivism,’ Christianity Today (July 13, 2017); online: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2017/july-web-only/eugene-peterson-shrugs.html?start=1 (accessed 18 July, 2017).  Meador’s article points out another aspect of the importance of being right.

[2] S. Donald Fortson and Rollin G. Grams, Unchanging Witness: The Consistent Christian Teaching on Homosexuality in Scripture and Tradition (Nashville, TN: B&H Pub., 2016).  See ch. 15.

[3] To his credit, Peterson does capture the focus of the parallel text of Jude 7 in 2 Peter 2.  He does not opt to focus on sexual excess in this passage but renders verse 7’s reference to Sodom as ‘sexual filth and perversity’.  (The New Revised Standard Version has ‘the licentiousness of the lawless’.)

The Archbishop of York and the Parable of the Moth

The disciples were talking excitedly with one another about a story they had heard that morning.  The General Synod was meeting that week, and various disturbing stories were filtering from the meetings.  They had just heard that the Synod had voted to ‘prioritise the common good of all people.’  One disciple thought that this was good news, especially in light of examples in recent days where people had put making a profit above the lives of others.  

Another disciple, however, pointed out that words were like free dancers and had a way of expressing themselves in any variety of ways unless given more direction.  ‘What do you mean?’ asked the first disciple.  ‘Well, if I say that we should all champion justice, for example, then we will have to say what we mean by ‘justice’, won’t we?  Otherwise, we will all agree to something but not have any agreement about what we mean!’  

Another disciple joined in.  ‘Yes, I know exactly what you mean.  One person makes the word ‘love’ mean, ‘If I love you, I will support you in whatever choice you make.’  That person understands love as a form of freedom.  Another person makes the word ‘love’ mean, ‘If I love you, I will tell you what the right thing to do is.’  That person understand love as a form of truth.  And so, while we all agree that we should be loving, we end up disagreeing because we have not defined ‘love’.

'All virtues and values are like this,' said another disciple.  'They are like presents wrapped in colourful paper on Christmas morning.  They have to be unwrapped and then openned, otherwise we have very little idea what they are.  We all like presents, but we don't always like the present that someone gave us.'

And such was the nature of the discussion along the way for several miles while the disciples walked with their master from Kittle to Killay.  As they refreshed themselves in Killay, they received some additional news about the General Synod.  Someone had proposed that the Synod emend the wording about seeking the common good to read the common good 'as revealed in the Bible and taught by the Church.’  ‘See,’ said one of the disciples, ‘that is what we were discussing.  We cannot know the ‘good’ unless we define it, and if we are Christians, we are going to define the good according to Scripture and the teaching of the Church through the ages.  And our understanding of Good is going to look very different from, say, the 'Good' that ISIS is pursuing--or even the Good as defined by our Parliament.’

‘Wait,’ said the disciple with the news about Synod.  ‘There’s more,’ he said, reading a bit of online news.[1]  ‘The Synod actually rejected the additional words.  The Archbishop of York, apparently, stood up to challenge the amendment.  Apparently, he replied, ‘If you are going to serve the whole community please don’t limit our language….  The Word became flesh and sadly we are now making it Word, Word, and Word again.  Resist the amendments.’  The disciple looked up at his fellow disciples, who sat quietly blinking at him in shock.

Finally, one of the disciples said, ‘When John wrote that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, he meant that God’s revelation of the truth was given through Jesus.  The archbishop seems to think—or wants to imagine—that John meant God passed His work of revelation over to people, as though they could now generate the truth from their own beliefs without having anything to do with Scripture, Jesus, or the Church’s convictions through the centuries.  That’s rather like letting your grade 8 class set their own final exams!’

The disciples’ master spoke up.  ‘This archbishop is like the moth.  The moth flies by the angle of rays from the sun as they hit its eyes. Because the sun’s rays are parallel, the moth is able to fly in a straight line by keeping the angle of the rays the same.  But when the moth flies by the light of a candle, the rays of light spread out in different directions, and they hit the moth's eyes at different angles.  That is why the moth flies in a circle around the light, getting closer and closer until it burns itself in the fire.’  

The master looked at his disciples, ‘If we do not set our course for what is ‘Good’ by the light that God has given us, we will fly in circles around the light of human ideas about the Good, who have all sorts of views, and we will meet our end in the fire.  Sadly, the archbishop has rejected the straight rays of light by which we can set our course for what is good, the revelation that Jesus brought to a world living in darkness.  He seeks to please human beings in all their diversity and, in so doing, fulfills the rest of what John wrote, that Jesus ‘came to his own, but his own people did not receive him (John 1.11).  Do not live as the moth, who flies by any light, but live as a disciple of Jesus Christ, God's revelation of truth to a world living in darkness.'

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[1] 'General Synod: Archbishop of York Rejects Authority of Bible,' Christian Concern (14 July, 2017).  See: https://mg.mail.yahoo.com/d/folders/1/messages/21022 (accessed 15 July, 2017).

The Parable of the Weathercock Compass

One day, the master and his disciples were walking through the vales of South Wales and came upon a group gathered around an artist in one of the small towns.  The artist was creating a portrait of someone famous out of coal.  On display were other portraits made from tomato catsup, chocolate, lipstick and so forth.  There was even a picture made from marmite on toast!  His incredible and creative talent was evident to all the bystanders.  As the disciples moved on, they heard someone mention that the artist was homosexual and that he supported a charity opposed to bullying, since he himself had at one time been bullied for his sexuality.

Later that day, the disciples began to discuss an American legal case that was in the news.  An artistic cake designer was being sued for not making a cake for a homosexual wedding.  The disciples discussed the similarities between the two men.  Like the artist that the disciples had seen that day, he was a ‘food artist.’  The customers for whom he baked and decorated cakes were not persons buying some necessary food items from the grocers, they literally were commissioning him to create art for a celebration.  Both artists chose their commissions, were sought after for their creativity, and made statements, negative or positive, through their art.  Both were opposed to something and expressed their convictions through their art: one was opposed to the bullying of homosexuals and created art to make this statement, the other was opposed to homosexuality and refused to accept commissions to create wedding cakes for homosexuals.  While both used food in their art, neither of them were engaged in providing food for sustenance.

The disciples then discussed differences between the food artists.  One difference between the two food artists was that one actively created art for his cause whereas the other more quietly declined to produce art for causes he did not support, not only homosexuality but also such things as witchcraft.  The disciples agreed that the other artist would no doubt also refuse to produce art against his convictions if the matter ever arose.  Another difference was that people actually ate the cake artist’s creations.  A third difference was that the cake artist’s creations typically had the function of supporting a celebration, and therefore he, too, was drawn into the celebration of his clients.  That gave him the greater reason to refuse commissions for celebrations that were against his convictions.  Perhaps the major difference—the real difference that angered people—was that he refused to support the culture’s recently adopted social agenda of promoting same-sex marriage.  In the cake maker’s father’s or grandfather’s generation, or any other previous generation in human history until, perhaps, one gets all the way back to the era of Sodom, the cake maker would not have been told by law to make cakes for homosexuals.

The disciples concluded their discussion by agreeing that the court’s forcing the American cake maker to bake a cake for a homosexual wedding would be like forcing the Welsh food artist to create a portrait of a choir boy for a known pedophile priest.  As one of the disciples put it, ‘Governments have no right to make people use their artistic gifts against their consciences.’  The master, who had been listening to this intriguing discussion, spoke up.

‘You are right to mention conscience.  This is not just a matter of rights or of artistic freedom.  True, the cake maker’s rights are suppressed.  True, the West has a long history of fighting for freedom of expression, especially when it comes to artistic expression, for in the suppression of what we find offensive lurks the power to suppress everything not according to our liking.  Ultimately, however, this is a matter of conscience.  In societies where people are constrained to do what their consciences forbid, the government has become god in a way that not even God cares to behave.  If God were coercive, He would bring an end to sin here and now.  But He is, instead, loving and patient, wooing rather than whipping people to Himself.  And God loved the world in this way, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.  There is no place for love or belief in coercion.  But evil systems have no place for love or faith and instead use the law and punishment to squash any dissent from others’ consciences.  Not only must one do what the totalitarian state says, but one must also desire whatever the totalitarian state says is good.’

The disciples’ weighed the master’s words.  Then the master said, ‘This matter is like the farm boy who believed that the weather vane was a compass.  His father had placed a weather vane in the shape of a cock on top of the barn, and it swung one way or the other, depending on which way the wind was blowing.  The cock always faced into the wind.  His little boy, however, had it in mind that the cock always pointed north.  One blustery autumn day, a big wind blew from the west, and the farm boy went down to the pond to tell the ducks it was time to fly south for the winter.  He pointed in the opposite direction that the weathercock was facing—east.  ‘You must fly that way,’ he stated firmly.  The ducks pointed with their wings to the south.  ‘You naughty ducks,’ said the farm boy, and he caught the ducks one by one until he had them all penned inside the barn.  ‘Now,’ said the boy, ‘will you fly in the direction I tell you to fly, for I am the farm boy, and I know where you should fly?’  The ducks refused.  They said that, deep inside themselves, they knew the right direction to fly, no matter which way the wind was blowing.  So, the farm boy was mad at the ducks, and he took a hedge clippers and clipped their wings so that they would obey him.  But the ducks could not now fly at all.’

Then the master asked his disciples, ‘When the farmer comes to the barn and sees what his boy has done to the ducks, what do you think he will do?’  The disciples contemplated the scene for a little while.  Then Peter spoke up, ‘I suppose,’ he said, ‘that the farmer will explain to his little boy that ducks are not very smart and can’t tell directions by wind compasses as well as he can!’  To his fellow disciples he added, ‘In any case, surely it is always easier to fly with the wind to your back.  Obstinate ducks!’  Then he winked at the master, who grabbed his head in his hands and just shook it left to right, groaning.

Is Jesus the ‘Son of God’?

Biblical languages, like English, can use the words ‘son’ and ‘father’ both literally and metaphorically.  When New Testament authors use the title ‘Son of God’ of Jesus, they are not using the title literally (as though God sired a son).  After all, Scripture affirms that Jesus is eternal, has life in himself, is not created but the Creator, etc.—statements of faith that affirm the eternity of the Son with the Father.  As the Nicene Creed affirms, Jesus was ‘not made’.  So, if the title ‘Son of God’ is metaphorical, in what sense is this so?  There are several answers, and here I will mostly follow (and, on occasion, develop) points made by Chris Wright in Knowing Jesus through the Old Testament.[1] As will also be seen, Jesus' being 'Son of God' is also more than a metaphor as it indicates Jesus' sharing divine identity with the Father (and Spirit) and expresses an eternal relationship within the one God's identity.

First, since Israel is called God’s ‘son’ in the Old Testament, Jesus’ identification with Israel narrative and his successfully fulfilling Israel’s role naturally leads to his being called the ‘Son of God.’  Matthew 1.1-4.16 serves the purpose to present in a number of ways, with support from Old Testament texts, just how Jesus embodies Israel in his genealogy (particularly as son of Abraham and son of David), in his early life, and in being the one to save his people from their sins.  In these early chapters, it is pointed out

• that Jesus’ lineage includes the restoration of Israel from captivity (the ‘new exodus’)
• that several Gentiles stand in his genealogy (signifying the inclusion of the Gentiles in God’s redemptive work through Israel),
• that Jesus’ name means ‘salvation’ (he will save his people from their sins),
• that he, like Israel, went down into Egypt and returned to Israel (signifying his liberating role for a people subjugated in false religion and sin)
• that he grew up in Nazareth, the town whose name reminds people of the ‘branch’ that would grow from the stump of the Davidic line of kings and bring restoration,
• that he chose to be baptized by John ‘for the forgiveness of sins,’ not because he had himself sinned but because he identified with the sinful people of Israel and would bring cleansing apart from the Temple,
• and that he succeeded in overcoming the temptations that Israel faced when she failed the tests in Sinai.

Thus, Jesus had come to accomplish what Israel failed to accomplish in her history, to fulfill the Scriptures, and to bring salvation and purification for sinful Israel and people of other nations who would follow him.  As it would happen, Jesus took an ethnic religion focussed on its own national heritage in opposition to Roman rule and made it a universal, missionary religion.  He was ‘Son of God’ in fulfilling the covenant God made with Abraham that he would give him a son that would become a nation that would be a blessing to all the families of the earth (Genesis 12.1-3).

Second, Israel as God’s ‘Son’ involves how God relates to Israel.  God’s relationship is often articulated in terms of his covenant with his people, but it can also be described in relational terms that are more clearly articulated in familial terms. The attitude of God towards Israel in her covenant relationship and restoration to that relationship after sin involves God’s love, pity, patience, and his acting in Israel’s best interest (Wright, p. 126).  At Jesus’ baptism, God says, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased’ (Matthew 3.17).  In these simple yet profound words of affirmation, God declares His relationship to Jesus.  His mission is clarified in these words, too.  Like Abraham’s beloved son (Genesis 22.12), Jesus would somehow be offered by his ‘father’ God.  Like the messianic king of David’s line, Jesus would be appointed ruler (Psalm 2.7).  Like the servant (pais in Greek, which is also a term for a son) of God sent to establish justice for the nations, he would be God’s chosen one in whom he delights and on whom God’s Spirit would rest (Isaiah 42.1).  Thus, the intimacy of relationship overlapped with the mission of God’s ‘Son’.

Third, Israel’s relation to God involved the expectations of a son.  As Israel, Jesus saw God as trustworthy.  Like a father, God would extend his protective authority, and He was to be respected and obeyed.  The Christian affirmation that Jesus is one with the Father, God from God, not another God, might make one wonder about passages (especially in John’s Gospel) that speak of Jesus’ listening to and obeying the Father: how can Jesus’ equality with the Father involve these submissive relationships?  The answer is in understanding Jesus’ relation to the Father as His Son.  From eternity, there is the role of trustworthy and protective authority on the part of the Father and respect and obedience on the part of the Son in an eternal relationship of divine love.  Any affirmation of monotheism that does not think in terms of the Christian view of one God in three Persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, cannot affirm the eternity of trustworthiness, protective authority, respect, obedience, and love—all of which require relational plurality.

Fourth, for Israel to be God’s son also involves the notion of inheritance.  God’s blessings on Israel included a bestowal of land and blessing that were expressed as an inheritance.  Jesus’ role as Son of God involves his bringing an inheritance to God’s people who follow him.

Fifth, following on the previous point, Israel’s failure to obey God’s covenant led to God’s exiling Israel.  However, God’s father-like, covenantal relationship with Israel also meant that he bemoaned Israel’s failure as a father with a wayward son.  Israel was not some vassal state breaking away from God’s rule.  One metaphor used in Hosea was of Israel as a faithless wife or disobedient son.  This wayward son of God, Israel, was just as though he were no son at all (Hosea 1.10).  Yet, God would make his exiled ‘not my people’ into his people again—so loving and forgiving is God the Father.  In this lies another marvelous truth: if Israel can become ‘not my people’ and ‘my people again,’ so can other nations ‘not God’s people’ become His people.  God acts out of his redemptive, fatherly care to the extent of restoring a wayward son who rejected Him, and He is also the God who will include still others into this relationship of sonship through His righteous Son, Jesus the Messiah.

Sixth, the term ‘son’ implies God’s bringing his people into existence, His choosing them, and His mission for them.  Israel’s relationship to God as a son involves the notions and narratives of Israel’s election as God’s son to fulfill a mission for the nations.  Israel is elected as God’s treasured possession to be righteous (Exodus 19.5-6).  Jesus, God’s righteous Son, also entails fulfilling God’s mission to establish righteousness on the earth through sacrifice, divine reign and suffering servanthood as already noted in texts alluded to at Jesus’ baptism (Genesis 22, Psalm 2, and Isaiah 42).  However, this point illustrates that the parallel with Israel's sonship is not absolute: God does not bring the eternal Son of God into existence.  He does send the Son just as He chooses Israel, but Jesus' mission is unique in that He and He alone restores God's people (both Jews and Gentiles) to Himself.

Seventh, since the king of Israel stood in the place of Israel, he could also be called God’s son.  When Jesus is designated ‘son of God,’ he also stands in the role of Davidic king of Israel.  This understanding of ‘son’ is also relevant in the Gentile, non-Biblical world of Jesus’ day.  Imperial Rome began, after Julius Caesar, to identify emperors as divine.  Augustus Caesar was designated ‘son of God’ because Julius Caesar, who had adopted him, was acknowledged as divine.  This idea of the ruler as divine was common in eastern cultures, such as the pharaohs of Egypt.  This cultural context allowed people to understand the truth that, as ‘Son of God,’ Jesus was the messianic ruler expected by the Jews to establish righteousness on the earth.  Jesus is the Father’s chosen regent.

Eighth, Jesus’ role as ‘Son of God’ entails being the founder of our salvation.  He fulfills the mission of bringing many sons to glory (Hebrews 2.10).  Because of Jesus, we may enter into a relationship with God as sons and heirs (Galatians 4.1-7).  This stands in contrast to relating to God as a slave or child of a slave.  The slave will relate to God merely in terms of Law, uncertain of divine pleasure and God’s acceptance.  The son will relate to God in terms of a relationship of trust (faith) and inheritance, being the heir (cf. Galatians 4).

Ninth, Jesus as Son of God involves an affirmation of Jesus' divinity.  The uniqueness of Jesus' relationship to the Father has already been noted in several ways.  Jesus is righteous and without sin.  Jesus fulfills the mission of Israel to the nations that Israel was not able to fulfill because of its unrighteousness.  Jesus' uniqueness as 'Son' goes well beyond a metaphorical use of the term even if it is not a literal use in the sense of being an offspring of a father.  As 'Son of God,' Jesus participates in the divine identity and is worthy of worship.  This message is conveyed in John's Gospel where the term 'monogenes'--only offspring--is used (John 1.14, 18; 3.16, 18).  In the Synoptic Gospels, the question of 'sonship' reaches a head in Jesus' last week in Jerusalem.  Jesus rides into Jerusalem as 'Son of David,' making messianic claims.  When this raises among the Jerusalem authorities the question of his authority, Jesus increases the challenge over the course of several interactions with the chief priests, elders, Pharisees, Herodians, Sadducees, and scribes.  This culminates in Jesus' intimation that his authority is not merely in terms of being 'Son of David'--a messianic authority--but involves the divine authority suggested by the title 'Lord.'  The interaction with a learned scribe that brings this point out and is the culmination of the tensions over Jesus' authority is as follows:

Now while the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them a question,  42 saying, "What do you think about the Christ? Whose son is he?" They said to him, "The son of David."  43 He said to them, "How is it then that David, in the Spirit, calls him Lord, saying,  44 "'The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at my right hand, until I put your enemies under your feet'?  45 If then David calls him Lord, how is he his son?" (Matthew 22:41-45).

The author of Hebrews begins his reflections on the Christian faith with an affirmation of Jesus' divine Sonship:

Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets,  2 but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world.  3 He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power (Hebrews 1:1-3).

In such ways, Jesus’ title ‘Son of God’ is rich in meaning and multifarious—too rich to allow any substitute.  It is, of course, metaphorical and not literal: God did not produce a son.  Yet the title 'Son of God' for Jesus does, ultimately, point to his sharing in divine identity.  The ‘Father’ and ‘Son’ relationship within God does not mean that there are two Gods (or three, if we include consideration of the Holy Spirit).  Christian faith insists that there is One God.  The eternal, relational identity of God, however, requires plurality.  As Christians affirm, there is One God in Three Persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  As creatures, we can understand this belief in the Trinity in relational terms, even if we cannot fully know the mystery of divine identity.

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[1] Chrisopher J. H. Wright, Knowing Jesus through the Old Testament, 2^nd ed. (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2014), ch. 3.