Scripture-ish

About Scripture-ish

Reflections on Scripture and culture. edmongallagher.substack.com (https://edmongallagher.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast)

Publisher

Ed Gallagher

Category

arts · religion & spirituality

Language

en

Explicit

No

First episode

23 Jan 2026

Latest episode

5 Oct 2026

Latest episodes

54 episodes in the feed.

1. 

   5 Oct 2026

   What Is Scripture About?

   Communication is difficult. The point is proven time and again, and perhaps the people that are most familiar with the difficulty of communication are, on the one hand, parents, and on the other hand, preachers. Both groups of people, parents and preachers, frequently find themselves in the situation where they need the phrase, “no, that’s not what I meant.” There are, no doubt, several reasons why communication is difficult, but one of them is that the speaker and the hearer do not necessarily share presuppositions. Let me give you an example of this. I recall several years ago giving a sermon on the Lord’s Supper, in which I was trying to explain part of the deep significance of this meal, how it helps us conform to Christ since we are consuming his body and blood. It’s not the kind of lesson on communion that I had ever heard, certainly not in churches of Christ. To top if off, I delivered the sermon on Christmas Day, which happened to fall on a Sunday that year. I called the sermon “Incarnation and Reincarnation,” meaning just as the Word became flesh—incarnation—so also the Word takes on flesh in our lives—reincarnation—as represented in the Lord’s Supper, as our flesh and blood mingles with and is transformed by the flesh and blood of our Lord. I thought I was presenting a new and helpful way of thinking about this weekly ritual for the members of the very traditional congregation for which I was preaching. I was trying to be deep. So I was a little confused afterwards when one old man complimented my lesson by saying, “That’s what we need more of, the first principles.” Either he didn’t hear what I said, or I didn’t say what I thought I said. Thanks for reading Gallagher! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. As I have reflected on that comment over the years, I have decided that this old man, who knew me and liked me, came into the sermon expecting to like the sermon. And the kinds of sermons he liked were “first principles” kinds of sermons. He heard what he wanted to hear. His expectations did not align with what I was trying to do. I take my share of the blame here; obviously I was not clear enough in my presentation. Communication is difficult. Or, let’s talk about politics for just a moment. I have a political point of view, a fundamental understanding about the nature of the country in which I live—America—and of the direction it ought to go. And I recognize that the country is highly polarized politically at the moment. There are people I enjoy listening to because they share my fundamental beliefs about America, and there are people I do not enjoy listening to. So recently I forced myself to listen to a podcast by people who do not align with my political views, but people that I consider intelligent. And it was hard to listen to that podcast. And it was helpful. And there were multiple times in that 45-minute podcast when I simply could not make sense out of what the person was saying. I mean, I heard the words, and I could get meaning out of those words, but I was convinced that the person could not have meant what I understood those words to mean, because that would be so stupid, so obviously incorrect. And these were intelligent people I was listening to. I wasn’t hearing something that made sense to me, partly, I think, because my political expectations were different from those of the people on the podcast. What is Scripture about? It’s about a lot of things, isn’t it? What are those statistics we often hear about the Bible? 66 books written by 40 different people in multiple languages over a period of more than a millennium, in several different cultures. There’s a lot in there. There’s history and law and parables and apocalypse and poetry and prophetic oracles and letters, and each of those genres can be further subdivided, and some biblical books attest multiple genres. So the Bible has a lot of stuff in it—which is part of the reason that the Bible is so difficult to read. What is the point of Scripture? What is it about? The Bible is not about me. I think it is true to say that Christians often open the Bible hoping to find it talking about them—and it does, sometimes, and in some ways. A little later we’ll talk about how the Bible addresses Christians. But in our culture the expectation that a Christian will have is very individualistic. I have a problem, and I want the Bible to address my problem. If a therapist can address an individual person’s problems, then surely my problem can be directly addressed in Scripture by God—who is basically an all-knowing therapist, right? When Bible-readers have this expectation, they are sure to be disappointed by most of the Bible, which they simply cannot understand through this paradigm. Again, it’s sorta understandable that modern Christians would approach the Bible with this paradigm, because they have been told ad infinitum that God loves me and longs for a personal relationship with me. Seems like the Bible ought to talk about that. So what is the point of Ezekiel? Or Leviticus? Or most of the Old Testament, really? Some of the psalms are nice, and the proverbs are relatively straightforward, though they aren’t very comforting. Did Paul really say that all Scripture is profitable? Maybe he was exaggerating just a little bit? So here’s the deal: the Bible is not about me. It is not about you. If you approach Scripture with that expectation, you will most definitely be disappointed. Let me tell you what the Bible is about: it’s about God, and it’s about us. Let’s talk about both of these in turn. Not Me, But God The Bible is about God. Wow, that’s profound, isn’t it. You might need to write that one on your hand so that you’ll remember it. I’ll wait. Let me be a little more specific: The Bible is not about me, it’s about God. When I turn to the Bible, what am I looking for? What do I think I’m going to be reading? What are my expectations? If you open Ezekiel with the idea that you’re going to read something immediately relevant for your daily life—well, yes, I would argue that you can find in Ezekiel passages relevant to your daily life, but that’s because I am convinced that knowledge of God is relevant to your daily life. It might not have an obvious, straightforward application to the particular problem you’re facing right now, but it will most definitely display to you the big-picture reality in which your entire life takes place. Not just Ezekiel, of course, but the entire Bible does that, because the Bible is about God. If you turn to Ezekiel looking to get out of the doldrums, or how to be compassionate, or how to have less stress—if you turn to Ezekiel expecting it to address you right now, you probably won’t find what you’re seeking. Listen, there is a correlation between the text of Ezekiel and the Christian life today, but it’s not a direct correlation. If you imagine that what God wants to do in Scripture is talk to you about you, many books of the Bible are going to confuse you, most definitely including Ezekiel. And you may decide that Ezekiel is not profitable, after all, no matter what Paul says about all Scripture. In Scripture, God wants to talk to you not about you but about himself. One of the most basic ideas in the Christian life is that you need to take the focus off of yourself and fill your mind with God, be led by the Spirit of God, squash your own will so that you can take on God’s will, so that you can say with our Lord, “not my will but yours be done.” That is how the Bible addresses you—by not addressing you, by telling you about God. And let me tell you something: if you open Ezekiel expecting to read something about God, you will find what you seek. God is all over that book. Christians have known this all along, of course, that the Bible is about God. The early church had a reading strategy for the Bible, and they called it the Rule of Faith (https://www.amazon.com/dp/162564759X?lv=shuf&channelId=500&plpRedirect=mhFallback). I’m talking about the church of the second century and later. Actually, let me talk about the first century, and then I’ll return to the second century. Because the first-century church also had a reading strategy. For instance, Paul read Scripture in light of a fundamental truth that he knew he could always trust, just like Descartes who figured out his own fundamental truth when he declared cogito ergo sum (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cogito,_ergo_sum). Even more than his own existence, Descartes felt that he could trust the fact that he had the capacity to think. That was, for Descartes, the fundamental fact. For Paul, the fundamental fact was that Jesus is Lord and the Christ promised in Scripture, and the Apostle always read Scripture through this grid. “Whatever else may be true, I know that Jesus appeared to me. He is Lord, therefore I am.” In the second century, the church developed something called the Rule of Faith (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rule_of_Faith) to help them read Scripture. They didn’t develop it so much as inherit it, because it’s very similar to Paul’s reading strategy, just a little bit expanded, so that it mentions God the Father and the Holy Spirit and a few other basic Christian facts. One venerable form of the Rule of Faith is the Nicene Creed (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nicene_Creed), and I encourage you sometime to read that creed and see what these ancient Christians saw in Scripture. (Do it now (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_versions_of_the_Nicene_Creed).) But I’ll go ahead and tell you: what they saw was God. They knew that the Bible is about God. It might be interesting at this point to compare this ancient reading strategy with our own reading strategy in the modern day. In the churches of Christ, has our reading strategy been focused on the five-step plan of salvation, or the five acts of worship, or the organization of the church? I think our reading strategy has largely been addressing the question, “what are we supposed to do?” That is a fine question to ask, and I think we have arrived at some sensible—even obvious—answers to that question, but that question won’t always help us to read Scripture well. It is, of course, focused on ourselves, and Scripture is about God. Now, let’s address of couple problems—or, let us say, issues. First, the Bible is about God, but how does it teach us about God? The Bible is, after all, a complicated book, as we saw earlier: all those authors over a long period of time, all those genres of literature. The Bible is straightforwardly about God, but it doesn’t teach us about God in a straightforward manner. It is not a how-to book. That’s why there are books such as The Complete Idiot’s Guid to the Bible (https://www.amazon.com/dp/1592573894?lv=shuf&channelId=500&plpRedirect=mhFallback) or The Bible for Dummies (https://www.amazon.com/Bible-Dummies-Lifestyle/dp/1119293502/ref=sr_1_1?crid=35K1TJDD7OLDZ&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.uuj2eo6IfUQAmFjF83_RLYJ2I5u0eTPXa3OlvCyMzstCmQOShUFRAw25m0yPNo2R8FjcSIyFR916Vioi7AS3kYaDGBTrRLGCHUcjHl26c9BX05H5HsaHix_pVkawVmW2bw6TN2OMigxzmOy_d6IQ8lXKYkmbKLcG7YEH2Nlb5G_BXBL7Rv8R560lMhH1A24gBJY5WhdMOlSCdrrE-rLME_4V7OiOdrrpGxN4O9epn58.xIWS9roaOdb8TRpc7yCUHE991GWT9_ADpzHYTtU1x68&dib_tag=se&keywords=The+Bible+for+Dummies&qid=1790969578&s=books&sprefix=the+bible+for+dummies%2Cstripbooks%2C136&sr=1-1). Those books, which I have not looked at, are shortcuts and they are probably helpful, and the very fact that they exist demonstrates that the Bible itself is not a shortcut. How does the Bible teach us about God? Slowly. If there is a different book called The Bible for Dummies—and there is—that tells us that the Bible is not for dummies, meaning that it’s complex and requires of us patience and diligence if we’re going to get anything out of it. Patience and diligence—those just happen to be Christian virtues, which God wants to form in us, virtues that he himself exhibits, and he has given us Scripture that requires these virtues in us that will make us more like him. I’ve got good news for you. There’s no hurry. God is not looking for you to understand the Bible today. God is not looking for you to ever understand the Bible. What God wants for you to do with Scripture is commit yourself to it, so that routinely you allow the words of Scripture to transform your mind, as the Apostle says—and, as I have said before, that is a lifetime project. Slow and steady wins the race. What we need to do is open ourselves up to the message that Scripture wants to convey to us, and not the message we wish were there. Another issue: don’t we need an application when we study the Bible? Yes, and no. We need to be able to relate biblical teaching directly to our lives, but that is often easier said than done. Sometimes the application seems obvious. But what we should not do is shy away from studying parts of the Bible that seem to have less direct relevance to our lives today. First of all, we often read things and spend time on things that do not necessarily have an immediate application to our lives: ancient history, football, Netflix. But also remember what the Bible is about—not me, but God. If I’m learning about God, that is the application. And if I’m studying the Bible, I’m learning about God. I know what you’re thinking, and I’m proud of you for thinking it. “If I read about God, aren’t I also reading about myself? After all, the very first thing the Bible says about humanity is that we are made in the image of God. So learning about God should help me to learn about who I am.” That’s well done; good job! Now you’re beginning to read the Bible like Christian Scripture. Not Me, But Us Now, for the second main point, and this one will be shorter. The Bible is not about me, it’s about us. Of course, the Bible does address me as an individual, but almost always the Bible is more concerned with the group, the people of God. The story of the Bible is how God formed a people to commune with him and to reflect his character. We can read about God forming a people in Genesis 1, and we can read about it in Revelation 22, and we can read about it everywhere in between. The Bible is about us. That “us” that the Bible is about is called in the New Testament the ekklesia. The word is usually translated “church,” but it means “assembly” or “community,” and actually it’s not found only in the New Testament. The people of God in the Old Testament are also called the ekklesia. (Naturally, I’m thinking about the Greek version of the Old Testament.) And one of the burdens of the New Testament is to demonstrate that the promises that God made to his elect people in ancient Israel are now coming true in the elect people in the messiah Jesus. In other words, the New Testament ekklesia is the same as—the continuation of—the Old Testament ekklesia. Our ancestors are Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. It matters not if we are unable to trace a biological descent from Abraham; after all, God is able to raise up children to Abraham from stones. But there must be a family resemblance, and that resemblance God is looking for is faith. According to the Apostle, “Those of faith are the children of Abraham.” When we read the Old Testament, we are reading our story. This is our family history. As our Lord said, “Whoever does the will of God, he is my brother and sister and mother.” The Hebrew Scriptures show us the brothers and sisters and mothers of Jesus, and therefore our own family as well. That is why Paul could write to the non-Jewish believers in Corinth about “our fathers” who came out of Egypt (1 Cor 10:1), as if the ancient Israelites were the ancestors of these Gentiles—because they were. That may also be the reason that Paul says about these non-Jews that they used to be Gentiles, past tense, as if now they are no longer part of the nations but are instead children of Abraham (1 Cor 12:2). We know, indeed, that Father Abraham had many sons, and I am one of them, and so are you, so what we should do is praise the Lord! American society is focused on the individual, and often the American church is focused on the individual believer, but the Bible is not. Rather, the Bible talks about the community of God’s people, the ekklesia. The Bible is not about me, the Bible is about us. If you come to the Bible to learn something about God, your expectations will be met. The same is true if you start reading Scripture hoping to learn something about the people of God. That’s what the Bible is about. Seek and you shall find, and when we seek within Scripture, it is God and his people that we will find. Thanks for reading Gallagher! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit edmongallagher.substack.com (https://edmongallagher.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1)

2. 

   1 Oct 2026

   What Is Scripture For?

   I have previously proposed (https://edmongallagher.substack.com/p/steps-for-a-spiritual-life) the use of the so-called “steps of salvation (https://edmongallagher.substack.com/p/grace-and-the-steps-of-salvation)” as an avenue for spiritual growth. The first step is “hear,” and this essay is a first reflection on how to go about doing that. At the end of the Sermon on the Mount, the Evangelist Matthew records a story told by Jesus about two builders. You probably remember singing a song about them. The wise man built his house upon the rock, and when the rains came tumbling down, the house stood firm; but the foolish man built his house upon the sand, and the torrential rains caused his house to go splat. The point of this story, according to the song, is to encourage us to build our house on the Lord Jesus Christ, and what does that mean? Jesus himself explained the difference between the two builders: the wise builder exemplifies, according to Matthew 7, “whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them”; whereas the foolish builder illustrates “every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not.” The common element between both builders is hearing. If I may extend our Lord’s metaphor, they both receive the blueprints for the house, and they both study those blueprints, but only one of them builds his house according to the blueprints. To change images, only one of them follows the recipe. Only one of them executes the instructions of Jesus that they both hear. Thanks for reading Gallagher! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. Hearing is not the problem. The problem is doing. What distinguishes these two men is action. And no wonder, for the words that they are being asked to perform are, as Jesus says, “these sayings of mine.” Which sayings exactly? Why, the Sermon on the Mount, of course, of which the conclusion is this very parable about the two builders. Hearing the Sermon on the Mount is fine, necessary, essential, but ultimately insufficient. Doing the Sermon on the Mount, now that’s what matters. And that’s hard. I completely understand the guy who wants to build his house not up to code, because building your house according to the code of Jesus is difficult, time-consuming, and expensive. The code of Jesus, the Sermon on the Mount, is filled with stuff I don’t want to do. And I don’t mean avoiding anxiety. Yes, naturally, it would be nice to do such a thing, to avoid anxiety, but, as Jesus knew, that’s easier said than done. At least we all want to try that one. But what about the Golden Rule? or the prohibition on judging others? or the instructions on fasting? or the command to store up treasures in heaven and not on earth? or the command to turn the other check or to go the second mile or to pray for one’s enemies? I don’t really even want to try to follow that recipe, and the way my fellow church-goers talk makes me suspect that they have no interest in trying it either. Which means that we are the fools in Jesus’ parable, building our house without a foundation, counting on good weather. What is Scripture for? It’s for doing. Later in the Gospel of Matthew (16:24), we read these words, also in red: “For the Son of man shall come in the glory of his Father with his angels; and then he shall reward every man according to his works.” Doing is important. How does this concept relate to the grace of God? And is doing really all that important? Doesn’t the grace of God mean that doing is not important? Yes, I see the tension. Take it up with Jesus. He’s the one that said that the son of man “shall reward every man according to his works.” The point I’m trying to make is that hearing is not the problem. Doing is the problem. Both builders heard, the wise builder and the foolish builder. Only one of them executed what they heard. Hearing is not the problem. Hearing is sometimes the problem. In the Gospel of Luke (8:18), Jesus says, “Take heed therefore how ye hear.” There are better and worse ways of hearing. This concept is illustrated for us in the Parable of the Sower, which is the immediate prelude to this saying of Jesus in the Third Gospel. When Jesus says “take heed how ye hear,” he is thinking about the Parable of the Sower. Remember that the seed represents the word of God that is distributed liberally, but people respond to that message in different ways, some better than others. Different kinds of people hear in different ways. “Take heed therefore how ye hear.” We might also think about the disciples of Jesus and how they struggled to hear Jesus. At one point, a group of Jesus’ disciples actually said about one of Jesus’ messages, “this is a hard saying, who can hear it?” (John 6:60). Even Jesus’ closest disciples routinely misunderstood him. One time he warned them about the leaven of the Pharisees, and the disciples thought Jesus was reprimanding them for not bringing bread (Mark 8:14–21). Their years spent with Jesus could be understood as training for how to hear. I want to talk to you about hearing, but I need to tell you that the point of Scripture is not hearing but doing. Scripture calls on its readers or hearers to respond to the message. There are some literary works that are, I guess, merely for reading or hearing—maybe a John Grisham book or something. I enjoy the TV show Monk, and part of what I enjoy is that it is empty calories; it’s fun, but there’s not much there that I take with me once the TV is off. Of course, many great works of art, whether literature or movies or whatever, do stick with a person and even encourage a particular behavior. I would say (https://edmongallagher.substack.com/p/its-a-wonderful-movie) the movie It’s a Wonderful Life has a very clear message about how we the viewer ought to live. Same for (https://edmongallagher.substack.com/p/the-spirituality-of-phil-connors)Groundhog Day (https://edmongallagher.substack.com/p/the-spirituality-of-phil-connors). Same for (https://edmongallagher.substack.com/p/the-morality-of-atticus-finch) To Kill a Mockingbird (https://edmongallagher.substack.com/p/the-morality-of-mrs-dubose). It’s maybe less true for many Shakespeare plays, that is, less true that these plays have a clear message about how people ought to live, but certainly the plays do force the audience who hears well to reflect on various aspects of life. These examples of great works of art get close to what Scripture is doing in calling for a response. A John Grisham novel is for reading and enjoying. Groundhog Day is for watching and enjoying but also for reflecting on life and perhaps encouraging better behavior. Scripture is for reading or hearing and enjoying and for reflecting on life and for repenting and for enacting in life. The point of a John Grisham novel has been achieved when you read it and enjoy it. That is not true of Scripture. Scripture is for doing. Just think for a moment about the premier passage on Scripture in the Christian Scriptures, Paul’s description of Scripture in his second letter to Timothy. “All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness: That the man of God”—or, we might say the person of God, anthrōpos—“may be perfect, throughly”—or completely—“furnished unto all good works.” Where does the profit of Scripture lie? Wherein is its usefulness? The Apostle supplies the answer: Scripture is profitable for doctrine, reproof, correction, and instruction in righteousness. Scripture is for doing, not just hearing. Think back to the greatness that was Christian America, before the culture turned away from traditional values announced from America’s pulpits: before abortion on demand, before the sexual revolution, before prayer was removed from public schools. Think back to America in the 1950s, when placing the Ten Commandments in public spaces was uncontroversial. This was the decade when the words “under God” were added to the Pledge of Allegiance (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pledge_of_Allegiance#Addition_of_%22under_God%22) by an act of Congress, and when “In God We Trust (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/In_God_We_Trust)” became the official national motto. Was America a more Christian nation in the 1950s? This was the decade when the Little Rock Nine (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Rock_Nine) walked to school amid a howling mob of Christians. I have no doubt that people heard the word of God, but the point of Scripture is not hearing but doing. May we avoid sharing the guilt of our ancestors. As Thomas à Kempis wrote six centuries ago, “On the day of judgment we will not be asked what we have read, but what we have done; not how well we have discoursed, but how religiously we have lived” (Imitation of Christ 1.3). Doing presupposes hearing. Hearing is not the point, but zeal without knowledge won’t get the job done. Knowledge is important, and that requires hearing. In the parable of the two builders at the end of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus presupposes the element of hearing, because he is wrapping up a sermon; now that his audience has “heard,” he needs to encourage them to “do.” The hearing comes first. And so we return to Jesus’ admonition to take heed how we hear. How shall we take heed? I have two suggestions for you. First, be committed to the principle that you haven’t heard everything God wants to tell you in Scripture. Second, what you need to be hearing in Scripture is instruction in spirituality. We will explore briefly both of these points. Before the Puritans sailed for America on the Mayflower, one of their leaders, John Robinson, preached a sermon that contained this line: “I am verily persuaded the Lord hath more truth and light yet to break forth from His holy word.” You can find that line quoted at the Wikipedia page for “John Robinson (pastor) (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Robinson_(pastor)).” The point Robinson was making is that he did not know all the truth contained in Scripture, and neither did anybody else, but believers should also be ready to see new truth therein. The Epistle to the Hebrews gets at the same point by asserting that the word of God is living and active. It is no dead letter. There is a common temptation to imagine that we have exhausted the meaning of Scripture. I have observed this temptation among people who know next to nothing about Scripture, and among biblical scholars. It seems to have no particular relation to how much one actually knows about the Bible. I remember hearing a fellow say that one time he had been asked about John 3, the new birth by water and the Spirit. This fellow reported that he had said the passage taught the necessity of baptism, end of story. But I wonder, is that the end of the story? Have we plumbed the depths of John 3 once we determine that it teaches baptism’s necessity? What does it mean to enter the kingdom of God? Is that something we do in this life, or does it happen only after death? Is the kingdom of God the same thing that otherwise goes by the name kingdom of heaven? What is the significance of the phrase “born from above”? Why does Jesus represent conversion as a type of birth? What is the role of the Spirit in this new birth? And is it really the case that water in that passage has to do with baptism? Would Jesus have expected Nicodemus to understand that water refers to baptism? Or does water in this passage have anything to do with the water Jesus talks about in the next chapter in conversation with the Samaritan woman? These are questions worth pursuing, not that any of them have easy answers. Which is entirely the point. We will never arrive at definitive answers to these questions, and therefore these questions will continuously and necessarily elicit disagreement among interpreters, but—and this is important—reflecting on such questions, discussing such questions with others, pursuing answers to such questions in the library, is one important way to grow in the likeness of Christ. You will not achieve a conclusive result, but the process is the point; that’s where growth happens. You’ve got to recognize first that interpretation is a never ending pursuit. I don’t mean that you can never reach any conclusive result for any passage. Well, conclusive might be too strong; perhaps “definite” is better. When you talk to a non-Christian about the way to accept God’s offer of grace, telling them to believe, repent, confess, and be baptized is good and distills authentic teaching from Scripture. But that’s kindergarten Christianity. You don’t want to forget what you learned in kindergarten—your colors and shapes and numbers and letters—but you don’t want to stop there, either. Like John Robinson, “I am verily persuaded the Lord hath more truth and light yet to break forth from His holy word.” The Bible is a book for believers, not for nonbelievers. Think about that. Every single writing in the Bible was written to communities of the faithful—not those wondering which god to worship, not those uncertain about Jesus’ claims, but rather to people who were already in the covenant or had already been baptized. Yes, there is room for some nuance to this view, because the Old Testament prophets did often address an audience attracted to paganism, but the basic point is, I think, obvious and irrefutable: the Bible is for believers. This fact is worth acknowledging, because one common evangelism strategy is to hand out Bibles, as if the Bible were for nonbelievers. Handing out Bibles is a good work, and God, who wrote Scripture, can of course use his written word to create faith in unbelievers. But we also know that the Bible has some difficult passages, and that, as in the case of the Ethiopian eunuch, a teacher is often necessary. The Bible is for believers. While it can lead people to faith, its basic design is not for that purpose but rather to take the faithful deeper into their relationship with God. The purpose of the Bible is not to lead people to baptism. The Bible is for those who have already been baptized, for those already committed to God, to aid in their sanctification, to conform them to Christ. Recognizing this idea does not make the hard bits easy, of course, but it does clarify the purpose of the hard bits. Believers are supposed to wrestle with Scripture, to struggle with this divine text, all night if necessary, refusing to yield until it offers a blessing. In fact, a night-long struggle probably will not be long enough; some passages of Scripture will likely not provide a blessing for years or decades, but still we hold onto them and struggle, knowing that God uses that struggle to mold us into the image of his son. Our Lord does not throw his pearls before swine; the treasures of Scripture open for those who persist in seeking. We come now to my second suggestion for how to follow Jesus’ admonition to take care how we hear. What is it that we need to be hearing—we who are committed followers of Christ, the same as Peter, Andrew, James, and John? The answer: instruction in Christian spirituality. That’s what we need to hear. There is much to say on this point, both in what I mean by Christian spirituality and in how Scripture can help us toward this end, and I won’t say it all now. Fortunately, there is no urgency. Slow and steady wins the race. The New Testament shows us that for Christian missionaries, the initial response to God’s offer of salvation was an urgent matter: the apostles and evangelists brooked no delay in baptizing people. But when it comes to sanctification, there is no hurry. I don’t mean that it’s okay to defer sanctification—God forbid! We should get on it without delay. But there’s no great hurry to finish the process. Sanctification is a lifetime project, the goal being conformity to Christ. Similarly, coming to an understanding of Scripture for Christian spirituality is not an achievable goal, either in the short term or the long term. Faith seeking understanding (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fides_quaerens_intellectum) is the story of the believer’s life. And if I don’t tell you all my thoughts on Scripture now, well there’s always next time, and the time after that, not to mention eternity. Slow and steady is our motto. When you approach any text of Scripture—whether Matthew’s Gospel or Leviticus or Romans or Ezekiel—recognize that God has given you this text to help you conform to the image of Christ. If you don’t find that the text is helping you in this endeavor, the fault might lie in a number of areas, but it certainly does not lie with God, as if he designed the text poorly. We remember the words of the Apostle, that all Scripture is profitable for training in righteousness. Likewise, Eugene Peterson: The Christian Scriptures are the primary text for Christian spirituality. Christian spirituality is, in its entirety, rooted in and shaped by the scriptural text. We don’t form our personal spiritual lives out of a random assemblage of favorite texts in combination with individual circumstances; we are formed by the Holy Spirit in accordance with the text of Holy Scripture. God does not put us in charge of forming our personal spiritualities. We grow in accordance with the revealed Word implanted in us by the Spirit. (Eat This Book (https://www.google.com/books/edition/Eat_This_Book/rf_V0QEACAAJ?hl=en), 15) This is why we take Scripture so seriously. We don’t, of course, worship the Bible, but we recognize that Scripture is one of the primary tools God uses to accomplish his purposes in this world. Those purposes chiefly involve drawing all people to himself. If we recognize how far we are from God, we can only long for God to use Scripture to draw us ever nearer. I still want to talk about strategies for approaching Scripture, the subject matter of Scripture, how God communicates with us through Scripture, and how God uses other resources, including Christian tradition and academic biblical scholarship, to guide our biblical interpretation, to constrain it toward faithfulness. But for now let me remind you of Luke 24. In the middle decades of the first century, no doubt Cleopas and his traveling companion told their story over and again. Every Christian assembly they visited greeted them with the same requests: tell us about the mysterious stranger and your conversation. Tell us about how you came to recognize him. What was it like when he disappeared? Which Scriptures did he mention in his exposition? How did he interpret them? And so Cleopas told his story again, and when one of Paul’s missionary friends decided to begin research on the life of Jesus, many people told him, “you’ve got to talk to Cleopas.” In his interview, Luke no doubt asked the question, “What was it like to have the risen Lord explain the Scriptures to you?” And Luke wrote down Cleopas’ response: “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” We Christian readers of the twenty-first century seek the same encounter with the Lord through the text of Scripture, and we can experience the same wonderful heartburn as God reveals himself to us through our study and meditation. Jesus admonishes us to take care how ye hear, and we follow this encouragement when we hear Scripture with the goal of sanctification, assured that Scripture—or, rather, God through Scripture—will do something to us, will conform us to Christ. Thanks for reading Gallagher! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit edmongallagher.substack.com (https://edmongallagher.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1)

3. 

   28 Sept 2026

   Was Paul Ever Married?

   Some people think the apostle Paul might have been married at one point in his life. In fact, there was an early Christian tradition about it. Eusebius the church historian in the early fourth century quoted Clement of Alexandria, who wrote at the turn of the third century. Thanks for reading Gallagher! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. Clement, whose words we cited recently in the context of the previous quotation, enumerates, on account of those who reject marriage, those of the Apostles who were married, saying, “Or will they disapprove even of the Apostles? For Peter and Philip begat children, and Philip even gave his daughters to husbands, while Paul himself does not hesitate in one of his letters to address his wife whom he did not take about with him in order to facilitate his mission.” (Eusebius, Church History 3.30.1 [Loeb], quoting Clement, Stromata 3.52–53; see here (https://archive.org/details/stromateisbookso0085clem/page/288/mode/2up), p. 289) What is Clement talking about? Paul addressed his wife in one of his letters? He is referring to the “true yokefellow” of Philippians 4:3. For some reason, Clement thinks this is Paul’s wife. Origen knows this same tradition about Paul’s marriage. Paul, then, if certain traditions are true, was called while in possession of a wife, concerning whom he speaks when writing to the Philippians, “I ask you also, my loyal mate, help these women.” Since he had become free by mutual consent with her, he calls himself a slave of Christ. But if, as others think, he had no wife, nonetheless he who was free when he was called is yet a slave of Christ. (Commentary on Romans 1:1(3), trans. Scheck (https://www.google.com/books/edition/Commentary_on_the_Epistle_to_the_Romans/vn6qEg2MwX0C?hl=en), p. 62) If Paul had a wife at one time, what happened to her? Well, we can think of the options: death and divorce. Maybe the apostle was a widower, as some people think based on the Greek of 1 Corinthians 7:8, as we will discuss in a moment. Or maybe there was a divorce. We could imagine a couple scenarios. The Pharisee Saul of Tarsus might have divorced his wife for any number of reasons, assuming he adhered to the views of R. Hillel, who was pretty lenient on such matters. Or, maybe after the up-and-coming Jewish leader became an adherent to the way of Jesus, his wife left him. What sort of evidence might suggest that Paul was at one time married? It may also be that Paul was married prior to the time that he wrote 1 Corinthians in the mid-50s. In that letter, he indicates he was not married (7:7, 9, 38, 40; 9:4). Some scholars have noted, however, that Paul employs the term agamoi, which may be rendered “widowers,” in 1 Cor 7:8 and suggest that the apostle included himself among that group. If Paul were at one time married, this would coincide with Jewish traditions that praised and even stipulated marriage. Such an expectation was probably present among Pharisaic Jews in the first century. As a result, Paul might well have thought it both appropriate and prudent to marry. (Longenecker and Still (https://www.google.com/books/edition/Thinking_through_Paul/hV5tAgAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0), 2014, p. 27) So, possibly Paul called himself a “widower” in 1 Corinthians 7:8. Here’s the verse in the ESV: “To the unmarried (agamos) and the widows I say that it is good for them to remain single, as I am.” Some interpreters (https://www.dennyburk.com/was-the-apostle-paul-married-yes-he-was-heres-how-we-know/) think Paul included himself in the categories of “agamos and widows,” and since he cannot be calling himself a widow, he must be calling himself an agamos—but what does this word mean? According to Danker (https://www.google.com/books/edition/A_Greek_English_Lexicon_of_the_New_Testa/4gyfDwAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0), it means “an unmarried man/woman,” but some people think that in the context of 1 Corinthians it must mean widower, since it is contrasted with the widow. So, if the word suggests “widower” and if Paul is including himself in the categories mentioned at 1 Corinthians 7:8, then Paul would be self-identifying as a widower. I think this argument fairly weak. But maybe there’s another rout to a married Paul. What if it was expected of Jews in the first century? Here’s F. F. Bruce: It may be pointed out that marriage was normal and, indeed, expected in pious Jews when they came of age. [He cites Avot (https://www.sefaria.org/Pirkei_Avot.5.21?lang=bi) 5.21 (https://www.sefaria.org/Pirkei_Avot.5.21?lang=bi).] True, Jesus had spoken of certain exceptions – those who, as he said, had “made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 19:12) – among whom he may have included John the Baptist himself. But Paul was not presumably influenced by considerations of this kind in his pre-Christian days. What then? Was he a widower? Perhaps he was: the question has received a positive answer from Joachim Jeremias, for example. Rather more probable is the view that his wife left him when he became a Christian: that when he “suffered the loss of all things” [Philippians 3:8] for the sake of Christ he lost his wife too. This cannot be proved, of course, but if something like this did happen it might explain Paul’s specially sympathetic understanding of the domestic situation in which the unconverted partner walks out on the husband or wife who has become a Christian: “in such a case the brother or sister is not bound” (1 Corinthians 7:15). Paul, for his part, was not “bound” either way: he knew that he could fulfil his commission more wholeheartedly if he remained free from the marriage bond. (Bruce (https://www.google.com/books/edition/_/FQUBvgEACAAJ?hl=en&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwiWxIDU_oSXAxU5rokEHUFNMeQQ7_IDegQIChAG), 1977, pp. 269–70) (For another argument for a married Paul, see Jerome Murphy-O’Connor (https://www.google.com/books/edition/Paul_A_Critical_Life/N0sSDAAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0) (1996). I don’t see that E. P. Sanders (https://www.google.com/books/edition/Paul/j_nm0QEACAAJ?hl=en) (2015) mentions it.) The idea that Jews in the first-century—pious, Torah-observant Jews—were generally expected to marry was argued a century ago by Joachim Jeremias in two very brief articles in the journal Zeitschrift für die neutestamentliche Wissenschaft (https://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zeitschrift_f%C3%BCr_die_Neutestamentliche_Wissenschaft). Here are the references. Jeremias, “War Paulus Witwer,” ZNW (https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uva.x000981739&seq=643) 25 (1926) (https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uva.x000981739&seq=643): 310–12; “Nochmals: War Paulus Witwer?” ZNW 28 (1929): 321–22. Jeremias is pretty confident in his interpretation. He says that a unanimous rabbinic teaching regarded marriage as a religious obligation. Here’s the evidence as he cites it. The Mishnah (Yevamot (https://www.sefaria.org/Mishnah_Yevamot.6.6?lang=bi) 6.6 (https://www.sefaria.org/Mishnah_Yevamot.6.6?lang=bi)) states that Jewish men—and, maybe, Jewish women—are under obligation to fulfill the commandment of Genesis 1:28 to “be fruitful and multiply,” and the sages suggest that a person can consider himself to have performed the mitzvah (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mitzvah) if he has produced two children, at least one of whom is male. Indeed, so important is the mitzvah that after ten years of marriage with no children, a man needs to seek a different wife. This mishnah is quoted in the Babylonian Talmud at Yevamot (https://www.sefaria.org/Yevamot.61b.16?lang=bi) 61b §15 (https://www.sefaria.org/Yevamot.61b.16?lang=bi), which then leads to a long discussion, but at the very beginning of the discussion it becomes clear that some Rabbis thought that a Jewish man was obligated to have a wife irrespective of children—in other words, even if he already had children, he still needed a wife. Being married was a separate obligation. In another part of the Talmud, at Pesachim (https://www.sefaria.org/Pesachim.113b.14?lang=bi) 113b §14 (https://www.sefaria.org/Pesachim.113b.14?lang=bi), there is a list of seven categories of people who are “ostracized by Heaven,” and first on the list is a Jew without a wife. This all seems pretty clear, but there are two problems with the argument of Jeremias that I want to mention. First, we’re using the Talmud for evidence for a first century Jew (Paul). The Talmud is not first century, it’s from some centuries later, maybe around AD 600. It definitely contains traditions from the first century, but the trick is knowing how to identify them, and I cannot do it. Scholars these days are much more reticent than in the days of Jeremias to use the Talmud to establish something in the first century. The same basic issue applies also to the Mishnah, though to a smaller degree, since the Mishnah is much closer to the New Testament (around AD 200). Second, there is another lifestyle that some faithful Jews pursued: they avoided marriage to devote themselves to God. Philo (Hypothetica 11.14) and Josephus (War 2.120; Antiquities 18.21) both mention celibacy in regard to the Essenes. (The extracts of Philo’s Hypothetica are preserved in the Preparation of the Gospel by Eusebius, book 8, but also printed in the Loeb edition of Philo, vol. 9, p. 443.) Even if they are not exactly accurate in their descriptions of the Essenes (see Crawford (https://www.google.com/books/edition/Scribes_and_Scrolls_at_Qumran/EP-30AEACAAJ?hl=en), pp. 299–302), the fact that they imagined Jewish celibacy and even presented it as an ideal is suggestive. The Talmud likewise presents such a case, at least with reference to one scholar, Ben Azzai (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Simeon_ben_Azzai). His example is presented in the Talmud at Yevamot (https://www.sefaria.org/Yevamot.63b.19?lang=bi) 63b §18 (https://www.sefaria.org/Yevamot.63b.19?lang=bi). (See also the Tosefta, (https://www.sefaria.org/Tosefta_Yevamot.8.5?lang=bi)Yevamot (https://www.sefaria.org/Tosefta_Yevamot.8.5?lang=bi) 8.5 (https://www.sefaria.org/Tosefta_Yevamot.8.5?lang=bi).) Why didn’t Ben Azzai get married? He explains: נפשי חשקה בתורה, “my soul yearns for Torah.” He acknowledges that procreation is a universal command, binding on him as well as others, but his love of Torah takes precedence. His attitude was: let others keep the human race going, I’m devoted to Torah. According to scholar of rabbinics Michael Satlow (https://www.google.com/books/edition/Jewish_Marriage_in_Antiquity/HoQugjhUE-EC?hl=en&gbpv=0), Everyone agrees that procreation is good, but, Ben Azzai says, there can be a conflict between this good and the (better) good of Torah study. Ben Azzai feels that he can have only one erotic attachment, and “lusts” for Torah rather than women. (p. 30) As Satlow goes on to discuss, another passage in the Talmud, Kiddushin (https://www.sefaria.org/Kiddushin.29b.15?lang=bi) 29b §§14–15 (https://www.sefaria.org/Kiddushin.29b.15?lang=bi), centers on the same dynamic. Which takes precedence: marriage or study of Torah? The first (anonymous) advice is to study Torah first and then marry, and only reverse that order if … ahem … you need a wife. This all sounds strangely familiar to the reader of Christian Scripture. Isn’t there someone in the New Testament who also talks about forgoing marriage so that you can devote yourself to God? Who was that? To shift gears for just a moment, I want to acknowledge that this take on marriage as a hindrance to spirituality is not the only view that there is, and is not the only view expressed in the New Testament. Certainly it is in the New Testament. As we saw earlier, Jesus mentioned people who had become eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven, and Paul strongly endorses the single life because it allows one to pursue God more passionately. But there are other ways of looking at marriage, and at some point I’ll talk about that. But for now, was Paul ever married? I don’t know, but I see little reason to think that he was. Self-Promotion Corner Well, it’s not much of a corner, but it’s definitely self-promotion. I recently received my contributor’s copy for this new book (https://www.google.com/books/edition/_/bmGWEQAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0) that provides a significant introduction to the Apocrypha and the Septuagint. It’s not that expensive, so if you think those topics would be interesting to you, check it out. My chapter considers the role of the LXX in early Christianity. Second, and somewhat relatedly, if you’re going to be in Nashville on October 13, swing by Lipscomb University and catch my lecture that evening. I’ll be delivering the inaugural Hazelip Lecture at 7:30pm that day, and before that (at 6:30pm) I’ll be doing a book signing. I’ve got a few copies of my latest book on the Apocrypha (https://www.google.com/books/edition/The_Apocrypha_through_History/PqBQEQAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=0), which will be available for a steep discount. I’ll also have some copies of most of my other books with me. Information and registration here (https://our.lipscomb.edu/e/hazelip-lecture/?fbclid=IwY2xjawUidv9leHRuA2FlbQIxMABwZG9mAWJyaWQRMVUwcmdWQUFaYmNRUzB4anFzcnRjBmFwcF9pZBAyMjIwMzkxNzg4MjAwODkyAAEen1icfqTJryFVcdLvpXhT4k7WbuxmnXZLk8KX8lULwM9ieJxpwkg7g0VEvH8_aem_gGiabIOKBB7RK6um-T87gQ). Thanks for reading Gallagher! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit edmongallagher.substack.com (https://edmongallagher.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1)

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