This is a lightly edited transcript of what I actually said when I taught this session at Spring Creek Bible Church on May 14, 2017, as Part 3 of the Introduction to New Testament Exegesis class (the second of the two “Techniques and Tools” sessions). It differs from what I planned to say; for the prepared text, see the manuscript.
In the Lord’s providence we didn’t finish last week, so I’ll wrap up the remaining steps today and get a jump start into John 3:16. Let’s pray. Father, thank you for this day to gather, worship you, and learn from your Word. Thank you for your grace, made perfect in our weakness. Bless our time as we talk about how to better dig into your Word and understand it. In Jesus’ name, amen.
A quick word from our discussion of the worksheet: the method is intentionally broad—broader than you need for any given passage—so some steps will serve one text more than another. On the tension between getting the big-picture scope and drilling down into the pieces: it’s easy to go far down into the weeds; if a trail isn’t bearing fruit, back out and explore something else, using the time you have wisely. And several of you found new appreciation for diagramming—especially for untangling Paul’s long, run-on sentences. I didn’t love English in school either, but I learned more English grammar in Greek class than anywhere else, because Greek is such a logical, consistent language that you quickly see the payoff of paying attention to grammar. Even if you’re uncomfortable with it, most people can identify subjects and verbs—so find the verbs, figure out which is the main one, and see which are in subordinate clauses. That alone yields good value. By way of review, we’ve covered preparing our hearts in prayer, establishing the text and comparing translations, exploring the historical context, identifying the genre and literary devices, tracing the literary context (co-text), and diagramming. Now to the remaining steps.
Grammar: Key Connecting Words
Grammar and diagramming go together—you can’t diagram well without understanding what’s happening grammatically. This is a place where knowing Greek pays off, but you can still benefit as an English reader, and the most helpful thing to watch for is the key connecting words, which show how the larger pieces of thought hang together. John 3:16 illustrates it nicely. The verbs are “loved,” “gave,” “believes,” “perish,” and “have,” and the main verb is “loved”—so the kernel is “God loved the world.” The other clauses are subordinate, supporting that main idea. Now the connectors. The verse begins with “for,” a conjunction—a clue that it connects to something before it, so we can’t read it in a vacuum. Then comes the first “that”: “God loved the world, that he gave his Son”—this signals result: God’s love resulted in his giving the Son. The third clause has a second “that”—“that whoever believes in him should not perish”—which signals purpose or intent: he gave his Son in order that whoever believes would not perish but have eternal life. In English both are simply “that,” but the underlying Greek uses two different words—hōste (result) and hina (in order that). English often doesn’t have enough words to match the Greek one-to-one (you likely know there are multiple Greek words for “love” that all come across as “love”), so it helps to peek at the Greek. When you see a connecting word at the start of a clause, stop and ask what relationship it signals and which clause it connects to—that third clause connects not to the first but to the second.
Word Studies
Word studies give you a richer sense of a word whose meaning in a passage isn’t clear. Since words are flexible, you can’t just look one up in a dictionary and read that meaning in; you read all its occurrences in context and let the meaning emerge. Take the word behind John 1:18’s “the only God” (or, in some translations, “the one and only Son”)—Greek monogenēs. It doesn’t occur often, so you can survey every instance: a widow’s “only son” (Luke 7:12), Jairus’s “only daughter” (Luke 8:42), a man’s “only child” (Luke 9:38), the Word’s glory “as of the only Son from the Father” (John 1:14), “his only Son” (John 3:16, 18), Abraham offering up “his only son” (Hebrews 11:17), and God sending “his only Son into the world” (1 John 4:9). Many of us grew up with “only begotten” (as in the King James). The question is whether the word carries the idea of birth or simply means “one of a kind, unique.” It’s made of two parts: mono (“only”) and -genēs, which older interpreters traced to gennaō (“to beget,” hence “the only one begotten”), while more modern scholars trace it to a root meaning “to be or become” (hence simply “the only one who is,” unique). A key clue is Hebrews 11:17: Abraham offers up his “only son” Isaac—yet Abraham had two sons, so the point isn’t that Isaac was the only one begotten but that he was the unique, promised one, in a category all his own. That supports the “unique” reading. We won’t settle the debate here, but reading a word’s handful of occurrences and looking for clues is exactly how a word study works—classify the occurrences by shades of meaning and see what emerges.
A couple of tips. You get the best help from the author’s own use of a word as close as possible to your passage—so for John 1:18, start with how John uses the word in John 1 and 3—because one writer may use a word a little differently than another. And it’s often illuminating to see a word used in ordinary, non-theological ways. Take the word behind “at the Father’s side” in John 1:18 (the ESV footnotes it “in the bosom of the Father”; the NIV renders it “in closest relationship with”). The same Greek word, kolpos, appears as “lap” (Luke 6:38), “Abraham’s side” where the poor man is carried (Luke 16:22–23), the beloved disciple reclining at Jesus’ side at the table (John 13:23), and even a “bay” with a beach (Acts 27:39). There’s a connection—a curvature, an enfolding—between a bosom and a bay, though the meanings are distinct (John doesn’t want you to picture the beach having a bosom). The NIV captures the sense well: an intimacy and closeness between the Son and the Father, as between the beloved disciple and Jesus. (One member noted, from first-century dining custom, that guests reclined on their left sides around the table, so “on Jesus’ bosom” may describe reclining just in front of him—exactly the kind of historical-context question worth digging into.) One more word here is pertinent to our class: “he has made him known” translates the Greek exēgeomai—the root of our word “exegesis,” meaning to draw out or explain. That’s the Son’s role toward the Father: he makes him known, he explains him—“whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” (And a caution one member raised: because a word’s meaning is shaped by context, we can never assume it means the same thing everywhere; look for the clues in your passage rather than importing a meaning from elsewhere or from a lexicon.)
Biblical Theology
“Biblical theology” is a technical term that doesn’t mean what it sounds like—all theology should be biblical. It’s usually contrasted with systematic theology. Biblical theology approaches the Bible as one grand narrative: the unfolding story of how God sent his Son to redeem sinners, with the Old Testament’s shadows and types pointing forward to the coming Messiah, then his work, ascension, the church, and his promised return—one big story into which every part of the Bible fits. So here you ask how your text fits into a particular part of that one story: creation, the fall, the foreshadowing of the Messiah, his coming and cross and resurrection, and the spread of the gospel through the church.
Historical Theology
Next, it’s worth asking—especially for a disputed text—how the church has handled it over time. God has given teachers as gifts to the church, and we shouldn’t ignore them; seeing how he has worked through the church to bring clarity is a valuable exercise. Debates centuries ago over the deity of Christ, the Trinity, and other doctrines can give useful perspective on a passage. And because each era had its own culture—a thousand years ago, the first century, our own—you can see how a text was applied in different times by consulting creeds, confessions, catechisms, and commentators across church history (not just modern ones). These aren’t infallible; they can err. But God has gifted his church and preserved his truth, so we find real help here. One caution, though: when you read older writers, remember their language isn’t ours. Not only have times changed since, say, the 1500s, but you’re likely reading an English translation made hundreds of years ago, when English itself was different. A good example is the King James’s “in my Father’s house are many mansions”: the Greek simply means “rooms,” and “mansion,” when the King James was made, didn’t mean a huge house—so words shift over time, and we must be careful not to grab a wrong meaning from an older work.
Systematic Theology
Systematic theology asks what is true about a topic, gathering statements from across the Bible—a nugget in Genesis, another in Revelation, another in John—and harmonizing and organizing them into a coherent whole. Harmonization is the key: we know the Bible doesn’t contradict itself, so when two texts seem at odds, we try to be faithful to both and bring them into harmony rather than opposition. Sometimes we have to step back and admit, “I can’t do justice to both and reconcile them—so I’ll say I don’t have the answer.” We shouldn’t force agreement at the cost of a passage’s meaning; it’s okay to say we don’t know, because God knows how they fit. Most of the time, though, apparent tensions can be resolved. This is the place to ask where else a teaching appears in the Old and New Testaments, which texts support it and which seem to be in tension, what areas of theology it touches, and what the major schools of thought are (this text, some say, teaches limited atonement; others, universal atonement)—so you can see where it fits in the broader systematic picture.
Practical Theology
Finally, practical theology brings it home. Filling our heads with knowledge isn’t enough; we want to see how a text shapes what we do, believe, and feel—applying Scripture to our present setting. Always focus on yourself first. It sounds selfish, but you need to apply the Bible to your own life before your spouse’s, your kids’, or that coworker who bothers you; Scripture speaks first to our own hearts. A crucial distinction here is between what a text describes and what it prescribes. Sometimes a text simply describes something without teaching us to do it. (I had a teacher who illustrated the danger by stringing together “Judas went out and hanged himself” with “go and do likewise”—pull those together and apply them to yourself and you’re in trouble.) The account of Judas is descriptive, not prescriptive. Likewise, when Jesus gives his apostles specific instructions or miraculous gifts, we shouldn’t simply say, “I’ll go do that today.” So ask whether a text is spoken to Christ’s people broadly or to a specific person or group. The New Testament’s instructions to slaves and masters are another example—we can gain benefit by applying them to ourselves as employees and employers, but carefully, understanding that it’s a different setting. Ask how a text applies to you in your various roles—spouse, parent, child, sibling, employee, employer, friend—and what truth you can put into practice.
And sometimes a text hits a nerve—the Spirit puts his finger on an area where he wants you to grow. It’s not enough to say, “I understand this means I should treat my children a certain way,” and then go on with life hoping things improve. Sanctification isn’t automatic; we’re to work out our salvation with fear and trembling. There are too many sermons where I hear something good, sense the Lord speaking, agree that I need it—and then go home and life continues unchanged. Change comes through labor and battle, so when the Spirit speaks, build a plan of attack. Is there something you need to confess to God and others? Is there a text you should memorize and meditate on, so it’s available in the moment of need—since God gives grace through his Word, and if his Word is far off, we won’t have it when we need it? Is there something you need to pray about consistently—so add it to your prayer list? Are there trusted friends you should invite to support you, pray for you, and hold you accountable? And is there a study you need to do—perhaps reading all the Proverbs on anger to understand how God views that struggle? Take God’s Word, apply it, memorize it, pray over it, confess—that’s how God refines us. If we settle for the mental exercise of “I think this applies to me this way” and move on, we’ll keep being frustrated that we don’t grow.
A Word on Tools
You can do much of this in print, and I’m happy to recommend specific books. Digital tools are also a great help—there’s now a free version of Logos that’s an excellent first step (I shared a link in the group). Getting alone to think and read your Bible is wonderful, but access to good tools is an important part of study. Let me close with a caution from A. W. Pink: “We strongly urge young preachers to be much on their guard against allowing commentaries to become a substitute for, instead of a supplement to, their own minute and full examination and pondering of Holy Writ.” That’s the balance—tools are helpful and shouldn’t be ignored, but neither should they be our first go-to; we need to wrestle with God’s Word ourselves.
Let’s pray. Father, thank you for this time, for your Word, and for the ability to study it. Help us, as we apply our minds and hearts to your Word, to understand you and your truth rightly, to apply it to our lives, and to change, obey, and live in light of it. Bless us now as we go on to our worship time. In Jesus’ name, amen.