“Can you draw out Leviathan with a fishhook or press down his tongue with a cord?
Can you put a rope in his nose or pierce his jaw with a hook?”
The mysterious Leviathan raises its frightening head(s) a few times in the Old Testament (Psa. 74:12-19; 104:25-26; Isa. 27:1; Job 3:8; 41:1-34) and, perhaps, once in the New Testament as the “beast from the sea” (Rev. 13:1). What is this mysterious, untamable, water-dwelling, fire-breathing, multi-headed monster?
The word “Leviathan” most likely means “the writhing or twisting one,” which suggests a snake-like body. In the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Hebrew Old Testament, the word translated “Leviathan” is drakon in Job 41, the serpentine creature from which our English “dragon” is derived. In Job 3, however, the “Leviathan” is ketos or Cetus, a Greek dragon with a pig’s snout. The Bible describes Leviathan as a kind of tannin or “sea monster” (Psa. 74:13-14; Isa. 27:1; cf. Gen. 1:21), which, in ancient Near Eastern mythology, symbolized an aquatic, evil chaos-monster.
In Psalm 74:13-14, Leviathan is depicted as an enemy of the LORD which the LORD conquers and feeds to the creatures of the desert. In the surrounding context, the psalmist describes God defeating chaos and disorder within creation, echoing Genesis 1 when God shaped what was “formless” and filled what was “void.” God’s triumph over Leviathan is another display of his power over darkness and evil which strengthens the faith of the psalmist.
In Psalm 104, the Leviathan is categorized as one of the swarming creatures of the sea (Gen. 1:20f) which God formed for a particular purpose. This is similar to the reference in Job 41 which speaks of the power of Leviathan and another mysterious creature, Behemoth (Job 40:15ff). God created both creatures which no man can tame.
The reference in Isaiah 27:1 is symbolic. There, “Leviathan the fleeing… twisting serpent” becomes a cipher for Israel’s enemies whom God will punish. This apocalyptic description is picked up and made even more grotesque in Revelation 12-13, where the image of a devouring, multi-headed dragon is used to symbolize Satan, “that ancient serpent” (Rev. 12:9; cf. Gen. 3:1ff). This iconographic motif of Satan as a defeated serpent continued in early church history through the middle ages.
During the enlightenment, attempts were made to defend the scientific accuracy of Scripture which resulted in Behemoth and Leviathan being identified as the hippo and crocodile. But these animals simply don’t fit the descriptions in Job. A hippo’s tail cannot be described, even poetically, as “a cedar” (Job 40:17) and a crocodile doesn’t seem large enough to fit the description of Leviathan. Both creatures are probably best explained naturally as extinct reptiles; Behemoth could have been a Sauropod and Leviathan something akin to Mosasaurus.
This terrifying creature of immense proportions continues to captivate imaginations today. For example, the second season of Disney’s The Mandalorian features a creature called a krayt dragon that eats bovine animals called banthas (= Behemoths). The dragon is eventually called a Leviathan. After it is conquered, its flesh is divided and eaten as a delicacy by the native Tuskans (Psa. 74:14!).
While Scripture doesn’t give us a clear zoological classification, the Leviathan was both a physical creature formed by God and a symbolic creature. As a symbol of chaos and strength which no mere human could ever tame, Leviathan was used by the biblical writers as a means to speak about the greater power of God. What is untamable by mere humans is easily constrained by our Creator.
Jesus’s use of stories in his teaching is well documented in the Gospels, but how much notice do we give to how these stories are constructed? A closer look reveals how Jesus was the master of his craft. Here we take a look at just one story, the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19–31), to see at least three ways in which Jesus’s stories show his skill as a craftsman.
Words which say a lot -- Jesus did not waste words. Consider how much is packed into just one verse: “And at his gate was laid a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores” (Luke 16:20).
The phrase “at his gate” conjures up the Rich Man’s walls and enclosed home. It names the place the Rich Man had to pass every time he entered or left his home, ignoring Lazarus countless times. Meanwhile, the expression “was laid” (just one word in Greek) tells us that Lazarus had limited mobility and needed help to get into position. In just one sentence Jesus gives each character a history. We’re able to visualise their daily movements and the moment in which their lives converge.
Two verses later Jesus tells us that “The poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried” (Luke 16:22). Without highlighting it, he records that the Poor Man died first. Of course, poor people generally live shorter lives. We hear that the Poor Man was carried by the angels to Abraham’s side, while the Rich Man was buried. Here Jesus leaves a gap in our knowledge concerning whether the Poor Man was buried at all. In being explicitly buried the Rich Man gets better treatment in earthly terms, but not in heavenly terms. This underlines the fundamental contrast of the story: the Rich Man chose earthly recognition over heavenly recognition, much to his own regret.
Skillful use of names -- In the story of the Rich Man and Lazarus, the presence and absence of names are used to powerful effect. The Rich Man, who was surely known to everyone, is unnamed, whereas the Poor Man, whom society ignored, is named. Lazarus is, appropriately enough, a form of the Hebrew name Eleazar, meaning “God helps”. By giving a name to Lazarus but not to the Rich Man, Jesus shows that God’s values are the opposite of society’s values.
It’s also worth noting that the Rich Man ignored Lazarus while on earth, but when in torment wanted Lazarus to be his servant. He called out: “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in anguish in this flame” (Luke 16:24). Strikingly, here he reveals he knows the name of the beggar whom he had ignored on earth. This further highlights his guilt.
There is a contrast between the way the storyteller refers to Abraham as “Abraham” (verses 22, 23, 25, 29) and the Rich Man calls him “father Abraham” (verses 24 and 30) or just “father” (verse 27). The Rich Man wants to stress his family relationship with Abraham, but this is precisely where his problem lies. He asks Abraham to send witness to his five brothers, but if the Rich Man had considered the five books of Torah and really accepted Abraham as his father, he would have to accept that he had many more than five brothers, since Abraham had been promised offspring as countless as the stars and the sand. He would have to accept that Lazarus was his brother.
Old Testament references -- Jesus often filled his stories with Old Testament allusions. The opening verse of this story relates that the Rich Man feasted daily in purple and fine linen. There’s only one other text in the Bible where we get linen, purple, and feasting:
“There were white cotton curtains and violet hangings fastened with cords of fine linen and purple to silver rods and marble pillars, and also couches of gold and silver on a mosaic pavement of porphyry, marble, mother-of-pearl, and precious stones” (Esther 1:6).
This is the description of Ahasuerus’s seven-day feast to which every man in the citadel was invited. This allusion contrasts the Rich Man’s meanness with Ahasuerus’s greater generosity.
Early in the story we are also told that the Poor Man was “covered with sores”. The only other man in the Bible covered with sores was Job, who was rich and yet could claim never to have ignored the needs of the poor (Job 31:17–21). This allusion to the Old Testament again highlights the Rich Man’s guilt.
Finally, when we read “in Hades, being in torment, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far off and Lazarus at his side” (Luke 16:2), we have an echo of a famous Old Testament text: “On the third day Abraham lifted up his eyes and saw the place from afar” (Genesis 22:4). These two brief passages have four words or phrases in common: (1) to lift up one’s eyes; (2) far/afar; (3) see; (4) Abraham. Abraham, like Job, was rich, and he entertained strangers. The similar wording in the descriptions of Abraham and the Rich Man serves to highlight their contrast, further emphasising the Rich Man’s lack of hospitality.
Jesus told stories skilfully, but never merely to entertain. His parables often work at a very simple level, but careful attention reveals a much greater depth. In this very short story we see Jesus’s careful use of language, the words and names he chooses and omits, woven into a rich backdrop of the Old Testament. Each of these three features carry deep moral challenges and show the value of studying Jesus’s words with great care.
by Peter J Williams
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.
The practical goal of the book of Hebrews is to encourage the original audience to continue trusting in and following Christ. Some were tempted to escape persecution (Heb. 10:32-34) by renouncing their faith in Christ and reverting to Judaism. The writer challenges them to remain faithful to Jesus with a number of arguments which all make the same basic point: Jesus is superior. Jesus is greater than the angels and Moses, the Mosaic priesthood and sacrifices. Jesus is preeminent. Therefore, serve him with a whole heart.
While we may not be tempted to turn from Jesus to Judaism, we may subtly turn from him by mentally diminishing his exalted status. This is a real temptation in a culture set on “taming” Jesus by speaking of him as a mere human, a prophet, or an ethical teacher on par with others. Dorothy Sayers once wrote of this watering-down of Jesus in her Letters to a Diminished Church
“The people who hanged Christ never, to do them justice, accused him of being a bore—on the contrary, they thought him too dynamic to be safe. It has been left for later generations to muffle up that shattering personality and surround him with an atmosphere of tedium. We have efficiently pared the claws of the Lion of Judah, certified him “meek and mild” and recommended him as a fitting household pet for pale curates and pious old ladies.”
In this one verse (Hebrews 1:3), the writer makes three astonishing claims about who Jesus is.
He is “the radiance of the glory of God.” Jesus is to God as the rays of light are to the sun. “Glory” refers to the luminous manifestation of God’s presence (Ex. 16:7; 33:18; Isa. 40:5; 60:1-3). “Radiance” is the splendor and intense brightness that his glory brings. Just as the brightness of the light cannot be separated from the light itself, to see Jesus is to see God’s glory (Jn. 1:14; 2:11; 8:12; 17:5).
He is “the exact imprint of his nature.” Jesus is to God as the wax impression is to the signet ring. Though all humans are stamped with the divine image (Gen. 1:26-27), Jesus was the only human in whom that divine image was not obscured and defaced by sin. The “imprint” or the essential nature of God is seen perfectly in the face of Jesus (Jn. 1:2, 18; 14:9; Phil. 2:6; Col. 1:15).
Finally, “he upholds the universe by the word of his power.” Jesus is both the agent (Heb. 1:2) and sustainer of creation. “All things were created through him and for him… and in him all things hold together” (Col. 1:16-17; Jn. 1:3). The universe was created by the word through the Son (Heb. 1:2; 11:3) and continues to be managed and governed by that same powerful word. Just as all creation originated from him in the beginning, all creation will be subjected to him in the end (Heb. 1:13; 2:5, 8; 1 Cor. 15:28).
Let’s put this into perspective. The distance between the earth and the sun is about 92 million miles. Let’s represent that 92-million-mile distance with the thickness of a sheet of paper. If the thickness of a sheet of paper represents 92 million miles then the distance from here to the nearest star would be a stack of papers 70 feet high and the width of our galaxy would be a stack of papers 310 miles high. This is just our galaxy, the Milky Way. How vast is our universe? How many galaxies does it contain? Our Lord Jesus knows and is able to hold it all together by the “word of his power.”
Who, then, is Jesus and who are we in relation to him? He is not someone we simply invite into our lives if it pleases us. He is nothing less than the Lord of the universe. God help us to remove all limits of our devotion and love toward our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
The watchwords of last century’s modernism were knowledge, science, progress, certainty, and, above all, reason. It was an era of almost total self-confidence. But our postmodern 21st century proclaims the collapse of the enlightenment vision and revolts against all claims to certainty. Now, nothing is certain, except perhaps the certainty that we lack all certainty. Everything is characterized by disillusion and doubt. For this reason, many view the apostle Thomas sympathetically, perhaps even with sneaking admiration, as being an honest skeptic. He flatly refused to believe the news of Jesus’ resurrection without seeing the evidence himself: “Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.” (Jn. 20:25b) We too often struggle with doubt and, like Thomas, lay down the conditions on which we are prepared to believe. But consider Thomas’ pilgrimage from doubt to faith.
Thomas the absentee — On the evening of resurrection Sunday, the risen Lord appeared to the apostles and commissioned them (Jn. 20:19-23). “But Thomas… was not with them when Jesus came. So the other disciples were telling him, “We’ve seen the Lord!””... (Jn. 20:24-25a) and, as mentioned above, Thomas didn’t believe their testimony. The reason for his unbelief was his absence from that first resurrection appearance. We are not told the reason for his absence (deliberate or not), but the fact remains that Thomas missed the blessing because he wasn’t with the other apostles. Something similar happens every Sunday to those who, for whatever reason, are absent from the assembly of the saints. There is spiritual risk in spasmodic church attendance while there is spiritual blessing in disciplined, regular attendance. Fortunately, Thomas did not repeat his error. He was in his place the following Sunday and was blessed (Jn. 20:26).
Thomas the skeptic — Thomas wouldn’t believe the good news unless he saw the evidence himself (Jn. 20:25b). To be fair, the other apostles had seen and believed; isn’t it reasonable for Thomas to demand a similar experience? Although Jesus condescended to Thomas’ demands (“Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.” Jn. 20:27), he pronounced a blessing on “those who have not seen and yet have believed.” (Jn. 20:29) Notice Jesus commended not faith without evidence but faith without sight (2 Cor. 5:7). We come to our convictions in two ways: (1) by experiencing it ourselves and (2) through the credible testimony of others. For this reason, Thomas should have believed based on the eyewitness testimony of those he knew to be sober-minded and honest people. Faith is based on the testimony of eyewitnesses. In fact, John wrote his book so that those who were not present can believe on the testimony of those who were (Jn. 20:30-31).
Thomas the believer — Once Thomas saw, he not only believed but he worshiped, saying “My Lord and my God!” (Jn. 20:28) As soon as Thomas saw the evidence, he believed. And as soon as he believed, he worshiped. Notice that although Jesus rebuked his unbelief, he then accepted his believing worship. Tradition tells us that Thomas became a great missionary in India and died for his faith. Although none of his writings have survived today, I am sure he would have urged his audience not to repeat his error but rather to believe in the risen Lord based on his own testimony and “by believing… have life in his name.” (Jn. 20:31) Therefore, testimony is the way to faith and faith is the way to life. Paul says, “the righteous shall live by faith" and "faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Rom. 1:17; 10:17).
The sum of your word is truth,
and every one of your righteous rules endures forever.
One of the most common questions people ask concerning the Bible is how we know with any degree of certainty that our modern English translations are anything close to what the original authors wrote (the autographs). Beneath this question lies a number of skeptical assumptions: The texts have been copied and recopied so many times that errors must have crept in at some point. Those errors would then be compounded over a 2,000 year-long game of “telephone.” Add to that the translation from one language to another and you end up with a recipe for inaccuracy.
Another common question is how we came to have only these 27 books in our New Testament while other writings were left out. What if those other books, such as the “gospel of Thomas” or those attributed to Judas, James, Nicodemus and Peter, are “inspired” writings too? Who gets to determine canonicity anyway? Is our current New Testament just a result of ecclesiastical politics? Let’s briefly address these questions.
Text and Translation — We have over 5,700 handwritten Greek manuscripts of part or all of the New Testament today. These range from small scraps with a few verses to completed copies of the New Testament. This large body of textual resources continues to grow (in number and in the amount of text represented) and stretches from the early second century to the invention of the printing press in the fifteenth century. In addition, we have over 15,000 translations (which all required a source) and the writings of early Christians (which quote the New Testament extensively). In terms of manuscript evidence, we have an “embarrassment of riches.” We are not 2,000 years removed from the original documents but, in some cases, only a few decades (Google John Ryland’s papyrus P52 and you’ll see what I mean). This means transmission and translation of the text was no “telephone” game.
When compared with one another, textual critics find a remarkable degree of agreement between the manuscripts which speaks to the great care and accuracy with which they were copied. Most of the textual variants (the differences between them) are due to alternate spellings, the accidental omission or repetition of a letter, the substitution of a word with its synonym, etc. None of these variants change the message or meaning of Christianity in the least.
The formation of canon — Lists of books believed to be canonical (on par with the Hebrew Scriptures as God’s inspired word) were compiled as early as the second century. This was necessary to distance them from heretical Gnostic writings such as the so-called “Gospel of Thomas” and others previously mentioned. As time drew on, agreement on the number the books considered canon grew, until they were formally listed by Athanasius in AD 367. While the second-century writings of the early “church fathers” were considered (and rightly dismissed), the Gnostic writings were never even considered serious candidates for inclusion.
When held up to the 27 books which comprise our New Testament, these writings failed to meet the major criteria set by those councils: apostolicity (that a book was either written by an apostle or a close associate with an apostle), coherence (not contradicting previously accepted Scripture) and catholicity (widespread acceptance by the early Christian community). These apocryphal writings fair no better today. They lack both the historical and textual witness of the originals as well as the content and structure of the originals. For example, they say nothing of Jesus’ death, burial and resurrection, the very heart of the gospel message (1 Cor. 15:3-4). We have no reason for placing any confidence in those extra-canonical books and every reason for confidence in the 27 books we do have.