I forget where I first saw the book title, How to Read the Bible, but I recall a certain, what shall we say, amusement. I thought, Find a comfortable chair, open the book and read. I think there may be a dozen books in print with that title, but a short review by the features editor of First Things was very useful in understanding what at least one of the authors was driving at. The article was titled The Bible Inside and Out by R.R. Reno.

Professor Reno noted that To this day, modern biblical scholars ignore all interpreters of the Bible except other modern biblical scholars. I had noticed that, but had never put my finger on it. What caught his interest was the book by James L. Kugel How to Read the Bible: A Guide to Scripture, Then and Now.

In the world of modern biblical study, Kugel rose to rarified heights, becoming Starr Professor of Hebrew at Harvard (a position he recently left to live and teach in Jerusalem). But he never really worked as a normal biblical critic in the modern mode. Early on he cultivated an expertise in the old readers of the Bible, the interpreters who were so crucial in the origins of Judaism and Christianity.

Immersed in the work of early interpreters, Kugel noticed a strange feature of modern biblical study. The critics today seem to have a great appetite for any new piece of evidence or striking theoretical insight that promises a fresh approach to the Bible.

One could say quite literally that no stone has been left unturned. Except one: To this day, modern biblical scholars ignore all interpreters of the Bible except other modern biblical scholars.

[…] James Kugel identifies four assumptions that all ancient readers implicitly adopted, none of which find welcome in the modern approach.

I want to pull out and examine these four assumptions, because they really do relate to how one reads the Bible.

God forbid we, as a nation, should ever stop caring about the children and about the poor, but real care should lead us to call a failure what it is—a failure. I’ve listened with fascination to the debate and I’ve heard the calls for compassion being handed down from politicians. Now, as a Christian, I believe in compassion—but there’s something wrong with the picture I see out there. Compassion is a singularly human emotion. The problem with the government showing compassion is that the government is not human; the state is not human. Oh, I know the goverment is composed of human beings, but the government itself is a system, and systems don’t feel anything, much less compassion. And when politicians start talking to us about compassion and love, what they are really talking about is political power. Don’t ever forget it. And when political power pretends it is something else, it’s starting to become dangerous.

No word from the Bible conjures up more dread than the word Antichrist. It is kind of unfortunate, because the word is not used in the Bible in the sense that we use the word. It is John who introduces the word in his first New Testament letter.

Little children, it is the last time: and as you have heard that antichrist shall come, even now are there many antichrists; by which we know that it is the last time.

But John’s usage does not speak to a singular, world-ruling Antichrist. (Which is what most people mean when they use the term.)

Now, Paul does speak of such a one in 2 Thessalonians 3. He doesn’t call him Antichrist, but he puts a finger on one powerful person who is a harbinger of the last days. The passage calls him the son of destruction, using the root that forms one of the names of the Devil: Apollyon—the destroyer. And if Daniel is any guide, this man will be a son of the Devil and a destroyer, indeed. Let’s begin in Daniel, chapter 11.

Early in the 2nd century BC, a truly vile man came on the scene in the Middle East. What is it about planet earth that our soil periodically brings forth such singular men—men of consummate evil? That they recur again and again is clear enough. What you may not realize is that the prophets recognized this repetition—at least they predicted that it would be so. How much they understood is less clear. It is only from a later vantage point that we can look back over the prophecies and the history of the time and see the importance of this theme.

If you are computer oriented, you know what an icon is. They are the little images around the your computer screen, each one standing for some action you might want to take. We also see them all the time on signs and labels, implicitly representing a concept.

Daniel, like most of the prophets is loaded with icons. They are verbal descriptions of things he saw. And the things he saw stood for events, systems of government, rulers, kingdoms. Even certain people or kinds of people. If Daniel were on a computer screen with all of his icons around the screen, there would be one singularly important icon. It would be a little horn. So what does this represent?

One of the most fascinating prophecies in the Book of Daniel (and one that raises as many questions as it answers) is the 70 weeks prophecy at the end of the ninth chapter. Frankly, explaining the implications of this prophecy will stretch my abilities to the limit. But maybe, if we concentrate, we can study this together.

Daniel has been in prayer, a deep and repentant prayer that followed on the heels of his realization that he would not return home to Jerusalem. He would grow old and die in Babylon. He learned that the captivity would last for 70 long years. It was a crushing blow and it underlined for him how grievous the sins of Judah had been.

But there was another 70 about to be revealed when the angel Gabriel showed up on his doorstep and tapped him on the shoulder as he prayed. Gabriel said he had come with a message from God that would give Daniel insight and understanding. Let’s hear that message.

What did the First Christians believe and practice about Christmas? I know in a way that is a loaded question, because the word Christmas is found nowhere in the New Testament, nor is any noticeable celebration of Christmas as we know it.

Among many Jews, birthday observance is eschewed as originating in Egypt, and that could have influenced many among the First Christians, most of whom were Jews. Whatever the case, there is nothing in the New Testament that so much as hints at celebrating Jesus’ birth. It could be argued that this fact does not weigh against modern celebration, but that is not what interests me at this point.

My question is what the First Christians believed and practiced relative to Jesus’ nativity. To get a better understanding of this, let’s first look at the beginning of the Gospel of Luke and the story of another birth—that of John the Baptist.

One of the things that puzzles me about the Book of Daniel is the question, Why now? Why did God, at this particular juncture in history, lay out the prophecies that he did? The visions that he gave to Daniel and Nebuchadnezzar span a panorama of prophecy that goes from their day all the way to the very end.

And as you read along through here and see the incredible breadth of revelations of times and empires and places and you ask yourself, Why? I’m not sure I have the answer to that question, but sometimes it’s important to ask the questions and get them out on the table so that we can better know where we are going—and recognize when we get there.

We have been going through Daniel in this series of programs and now arrive at the eighth chapter, which is, appropriately enough, another vision given to Daniel. It begins with the prophet standing beside a river and witnessing a conflict between two fantastic beasts. Let’s join him beside that river as the vision is explained.

What was it about Daniel? Through at least three major administration changes in Babylon, he kept coming out on top. For the believer, it makes perfect sense. God gave Daniel and his companions favor through these hard and dangerous times for his own purposes. But you have to wonder what this looked like from the perspective of King Darius, the latest king Daniel had to deal with.

From Darius’ point of view, Daniel and his ilk were smart. And they had a great common sense. They made wise decisions and he could depend on them. What Darius had no way of knowing was that the Jews in his newly-conquered kingdom made their decisions within the framework of the Law. This is more important than most people realize. Most of us make life’s decision based on what feels good and looks safe at the moment, with no overriding framework. And that can leave us all over the landscape in our decisions; having no standards, no consistency.

Daniel and the Hebrew children had been brought up on the law of God and it formed the framework for all of life’s decisions. And the biggest thing about this is that the system works. As the psalmist said, Your law is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path. And it can help you see in the darkest places. We’ll find the story in Daniel, chapter 6.