Monthly Archives: November 2016

The Practice of Typological Preaching

After this long excursus as to the NATURE of typology in Scripture, the frightening question comes to the conscientious preacher as to where he begins or ends adequate typological preaching.

First, the “sky is the limit” as to the possibilities.  Everything in Creation, as said earlier, is a type of Christ, the first-born of all creation, the archetype of redemption.  The Bible is so full of types that are not identified as such, are so “randomly” chosen, and so unexpectedly surprising sometimes (like Old Testament “prophecies” and their “fulfillment”: who would have guessed that muzzling oxen had anything to do with paying preachers? I Cor. 9:9 and repeated in Timothy!) that any mouthpiece for God, speaking by the Spirit of God, can find types where He will.

Second – and that, after all, is the purpose of any “type”, be sure that it really illuminates the point at hand.  (“Muzzled oxen” certainly does; the points of comparison are obvious.) Don’t strain to make a figure fit, as is done with the specific number of fish the disciples drew in John 21:11, etc.

Third: (converse of point 2)  Don’t draw analogies, though ever so perfectly fit, if the point at hand doesn’t need illumination or illustration.  This will do more than anything else to curb excess in this kind of preaching.  An old couplet (which comes in various formulations) says of the two testaments in Scripture:  “The New is in the Old contained, The Old is in the New explained.”  Too often preachers have delivered spell-binding  sermons on Old Testament themes in which they explain the Old Testament in the light of the New!  The pictures were intended to serve the people of their times until reality came, and they still serve us as illustrations, but who wants to spend undue time with a photograph when the person himself is physically visible? (Does it help to understand the atonement to point out that the Passover lamb was young, a male, without blemish, etc?)  This can soon end in allegorizing.

Fourth; do not make comparisons between all parts of type an application; Solomon’s temple is NOT  a model for our church-building obsession, especially as to extravagance. Joseph too was a type of Christ, but certainly not in marrying a heathen-priest’s daughter.  Hezekiah’s prayer for added life was imprudent; many troubles to self and nation followed in those years.

Fifth; Scripture changes type-and-applicaitons easily; Satan is a roaring lion; Jesus is the lion of the tribe of Judah; Satan is a snake; Jesus tells us to be wise as they.  The leaven in Matt. 13 (usually a symbol of evil) may in that place represent goodness.  In II Cor. 3 and 4 a “veil” represents different things.  Paul switches comparisons in Rom. 7 as to who dies; in I Cor. 14:22 his use of “sign” (or “unbeliever”) does not seem consistent.

Sixth:  Beware of confusing type and reality; the Israelites did with the brass serpent in the wilderness.  (We can do it with a cross.)  The Decalog, as we know it, is a type as to format (talking about Egypt, the 7th day Sabbath, oxen, etc.)  It is obsolete for New Testament usage.  It served Israel well in 1400 BC and was intended to be useful until Christ came.

Two Bible “stories” that have received more inadequate preaching (and other) treatment than any others are, surprisingly, the birth of our Savior and his death (and resurrection).  What makes this ironic is the fact that no Bible stories are more familiar and preached about more.  In a typical church, about one-fourth of a pastor’s available Sundays are used in Advent and Lenten series, of six weeks each. (Add to this the special occasions and such absences from the pulpit as vacations, it is a wonder that the average Christian congregation knows as much about the Bible as it does, which is meager.)  One unfortunate result of this over-emphasis is that a pastor feels forced to embellish the “inspired record” (disliking to repeat the same too-familiar facts every year), which creates in many listeners an addition to imaginative Bible fiction about Christmas and Calvary, and the confusion and ignorance is compounded. Doubly ironic, many of the important facts of Jesus’ birth and death are generally known, namely, that he did not descend from Solomon (Joseph did, but not Mary); the Wise Men did not visit him at the manger, his father Abraham was not a Jew (any more than Noah, or even Ham were black), and so on.  What Christian knows why Jesus chose Sunday on which to rise from the dead, when for his contemporaries it was the first work-day of the week?  Point is, Jesus’ birth and death (to say nothing of his resurrection) are signs, types of great importance.  In themselves, as historical events, they have great importance, of course; ( I Cor 2:1; I Cor 15.  But no facts are more universally known.  What sane person denies that Christ was born and is an historical figure, when every calendar is dated in terms of that event?  Who denies his crucifixion, when the cross is the most familiar man-made emblem or symbol in human history?  Even his resurrection is not seriously challenged, and all the preaching in the world cannot prove it to the atheist.

Nowhere are we told in Scripture to “remember” Jesus’ birth, and God took pains to see that the exact year, month, date, and day are unknown, as is true of the exact birth-spot, plus Calvary and Christ’s empty tomb.  This is what makes of limited value the “pilgrimages” to the un-Holy Land, where even the paths on which Jesus once walked are as much as seven feet below the present surface, and the water on which he once walked and boated might even now be in Lake Michigan, or our own drinking faucets.

We say all this, every Christmas and Good Friday, in reminding that Jesus’ could have been born a dozen times or even been crucified that often, and all that would mean nothing for us if he had not been raised (differently from Lazarus or Jairus’ daughter) and ascended into heaven.  But we persist in our imitation of the world and its spiritual ignorance by almost total neglect of the anniversaries of Jesus’ Ascension/Coronation and Pentecost, in which Christmas, Good Friday, and even Easter find their climax.  What is the significance of an earthly monarch’s birth, marriage, and other rites of passage, compared to his coronation?  Jesus followed his resurrection with 40 days of instruction as to its significance, and commanded his church to prepare themselves for what proved to be ten long days of waiting and watching for his return in the “Spirit”.  What a complete inversion of our customs, in which “Easter” is dropped the day afterward like a hot potato, and Ascension/Pentecost are neither prepared for or followed up, even if observed on the anniversary days themselves.  This is what Hebrews means when it says it readers major in the minors, have to be taught instead of being teachers, milk-drinkers instead of meat-eaters.  Today’s spiritual children at least have their preachers to blame for much of this ignorance.

In a sentence – for here we are pleading for typological preaching, not trying to exhaust the meaning of the atonement – Jesus was miraculously virgin-born not in order to be sinless (do we get our sinfulness from our male ancestors?), nor in order to be divine, but as a symbol of the divine nature of the new birth of every member of the new race that he fathered as the Second Adam (John 1:13).


Typology, Part II

This is perhaps a good point at which to include three forms, kinds, or applications of typology; the tabernacle, for example, is obviously a picture of Christ.  At the same time, it certainly is an apt picture of the three-fold nature of man (body, soul, spirit), which in turn reflects the trinitarian nature of God.  Isaac is one of many Old Testament persons who pre-figured Christ.  At the same time he typifies some aspects of the New Testament believer and his passive obedience to God; he also typifies the “self” (good enough; not something bad, any more than our Lord’s “self”-will) which has to be sacrificed (Rms 12:1) as certainly as Ishmael, symbolizing the believer’s old nature which has to be expelled.  (Ishmael is at the same time a symbol of unbelieving man.  All the while, of course, countless sermons can be and have been preached about Abraham, Isaac, Ishmael, et al from such purely historical perspectives as parental responsibilities versus favoritism, etc. Joseph especially has “suffered” from such “Bible-story” treatment versus his reel role in Scripture (and history) as Israel’s redeemer and a type of the Redeemer himself.)  (For the following, confer Andrew Jukes: Types in Genesis, p. xxviii

  1.  Inward application; what we might call the “spiritual” significance; apart from the historical story, Adam on this score is the “spiritual” father of the race, for ill.  (Rms 5)
  2. Outward (Jukes calls this allegoric.)  Adam symbolizes the “old man” in the unregenerate (who is nothing more) and the same in the Christian, which has to die. (Rms 6)
  3. “Dispensational”, future, anagogic, what we usually think of as “typological”; in Adam’s case, of course, he typifies (despite 1 and 2, above) the Lord Jesus (I Cor. 15).

It is obvious from these examples, a preacher can never “do justice” to Adam from a purely historical point of view (as preoccupies so many Bible students and critics) or Abraham, Moses, etc. apart from their typological significance.  The “moralizing” approach simply holds up Enoch for our example of piety; systematic theology struggles with (or ignores) the question of where he went, before Christ died for sin.  Typology sees in Enoch a picture of the “translation” of the living believers at end of world.

Similarly, in addition to all its wonder-working, and as a picture of it, Christ’s crucifixion is a symbol, a type of our own.  The New Testament uses the term “cross” as often in reference to the one you and I must die upon, than it does the historical one of Calvary.  (More of this, later, under the study of the Lord’s Supper, in which we remember our death with Christ as certainly as the Lord’s, at least we ought to.)

As regards the resurrection of our Lord, it was a sign of ours.  But when we say that, are we thinking of our resurrection to new life at regeneration?  That the new creation began on Easter morning (and hence Sunday, the first day of the week was chosen for that history-changing, “eternity” beginning event,) just as the first creation began on Sunday? (More about this later under baptism.)  Limiting our resurrection (on account of Jesus’) to our future one, after the death of our physical bodies, how much attention is paid to the fact that the bodies, manifestations that Jesus made of himself on Easter day and afterward, were not his glorified body, but types, signs?  Easter sermons expatiate on the fact that Jesus passed through closed doors after Easter (forgetting he ate and drank with them as he had done before, and that he walked on water before Easter).  Are we to assume that his glorified body has scars in hands and side, and if so, which ones of ours will we retain in glory?