Grok on Ekklesia, Israel, and the End

This is a conversation I had with Grok today about the meaning of ekklesia, the assembly of Israel, and the coming Millennial Kingdom. My comments are in black. Grok is in red.

The irony of discussing the dangers of AI with an AI does not escape me. 

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Considering that the Greek word ekklesia is used to describe the assembly of the people of Israel in the Septuagint, what is the evidence in the New Testament that God intended to create a new thing, called the church, and separate from Israel?

The question of whether the New Testament presents the "church" (ekklesia) as a new entity distinct from Israel is a fascinating one, rooted in both linguistic and theological considerations. Let’s explore the evidence step by step.

The Greek term ekklesia indeed carries a broad meaning—"assembly" or "gathering"—and in the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures), it’s used to describe the congregation of Israel, such as in Deuteronomy 4:10 or 9:10, where God assembles His people at Sinai. This sets a precedent for ekklesia as a term for God’s covenant people. In the New Testament, however, there are several indicators that suggest the ekklesia—often translated "church"—takes on a new significance, pointing to a distinct entity that builds on, yet differs from, Israel.

First, consider the words of Jesus in Matthew 16:18: "And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church (ekklesia), and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it." This is the first use of ekklesia in the Gospels, and it’s striking because Jesus doesn’t say "I will reform Israel" or "I will rebuild the synagogue." He speaks of building something with a future-oriented promise, tied to His own authority and the confession of Peter. The imagery of "building" suggests a new foundation, even if it’s rooted in the promises to Israel.

Next, the New Testament frequently describes the ekklesia as encompassing both Jews and Gentiles in a way that transcends the ethnic and legal boundaries of Israel. Ephesians 2:11-22 is a key passage here. Paul writes that Gentiles, once "alienated from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers to the covenants of promise," are now "brought near by the blood of Christ." He describes a "new man" (v. 15) formed from the two groups—Jews and Gentiles—into "one body" through the cross. This unity isn’t a simple continuation of Israel as it was under the Mosaic covenant; it’s a new reality where the "dividing wall of hostility" (the Law’s separation) is broken down. The ekklesia is portrayed as a household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ as the cornerstone—suggesting a new structure rather than a renovated one.

Another clue comes in Acts, where the ekklesia emerges as a distinct community after Pentecost (Acts 2). The outpouring of the Spirit on all believers—Jew and Gentile alike—marks a shift. While Israel’s identity was tied to the Law, land, and temple, the ekklesia in Acts spreads beyond Judea, incorporating Samaritans (Acts 8) and Gentiles (Acts 10-11) without requiring full adherence to Mosaic customs (see Acts 15). The Jerusalem Council’s decision not to impose circumcision on Gentile believers underscores this break from Israel’s traditional framework, pointing to a broader, redefined "assembly."

Paul’s writings further emphasize this distinction. In Romans 11, he uses the olive tree analogy: Israel is the natural branches, some of which are broken off due to unbelief, while Gentiles are grafted in. Yet, the tree isn’t wholly new—it’s the same root of God’s covenant promises. The ekklesia thus appears as a fulfillment and expansion of Israel, not a total replacement but a transformation. Galatians 6:16 calls the church "the Israel of God," suggesting continuity, yet the context (a community free from the Law’s yoke, Gal. 5:1) implies a new identity.

Finally, the Book of Hebrews contrasts the old covenant with the new, describing the church as those who come to "Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem" (Heb. 12:22-24). This eschatological vision of the ekklesia—tied to a new covenant mediated by Jesus (Heb. 8:6-13)—sets it apart from the Sinai covenant of Israel, even while fulfilling prophecies like Jeremiah 31:31-34.

So, the evidence suggests God intended the ekklesia to be a "new thing" in this sense: it’s a community founded on Christ, uniting Jew and Gentile into one body, transcending the old covenant’s ethnic and legal limits while fulfilling its promises. It’s not entirely separate from Israel’s story—more like a new chapter, built on the same foundation but with a broader, universal scope. The shift from temple to Christ, from Law to Spirit, and from nation to a multiethnic body all point to this distinct yet connected identity. What do you think—does this align with how you’ve read these texts?

More or less. The Greek word οἰκοδομέω doesn't mean rebuild, but it is often used in the Septuagint to refer to a continuation of something that already existed, but in a refined or glorified state. For example in 1 Kings 11:38, God says through the prophet Ahijah that he will build Jereboam a house like he did for David, yet Jereboam already had a house and was already part of David's house. This does seem to reinforce your idea that the NT ekklesia was a continuation of OT Israel, but in a new state, both refined (the branches cut off, per Romans) and glorified (justified and with the addition of adopted Gentiles, also per Romans).

In this view, the NT ekklesia is not something entirely new, despite the use of οἰκοδομέω in Matthew 16:18, but a continuation, like a metal melted down and alloyed with new material to make it stronger.

You’re absolutely right to bring up the nuance of oikodomeo (οἰκοδομέω) and its usage in the Septuagint—it adds a rich layer to this discussion. The word does mean "to build," but as you point out, it often carries a sense of enhancement or continuation rather than starting from scratch. Your example from 1 Kings 11:38 is spot-on: God promises to "build" Jeroboam a house "as I built for David," implying not a brand-new structure unrelated to what came before, but a development of the same royal lineage, refined and repurposed for a new context. Jeroboam’s "house" isn’t a rejection of David’s—it’s a continuation with a new leader, even as it splits from the original.

This lens fits beautifully with the New Testament ekklesia. In Matthew 16:18, when Jesus says, "I will build (oikodomeo) my church," the term doesn’t demand a total break from Israel’s past. Instead, as you suggest, it can imply a refining and glorifying of what existed—like a master craftsman reworking a structure to make it stronger and more splendid. The metaphor of metal melted down and alloyed is a great one: the raw material (Israel, God’s covenant people) remains, but it’s transformed by the addition of Gentiles and the removal of what no longer serves (the "branches cut off" in Romans 11:17-24), all under the new covenant forged in Christ.

Romans 11 really drives this home. The olive tree isn’t uprooted and replaced—it’s pruned and grafted. The "root" (v. 18), likely the patriarchs or God’s promises to them, stays intact, supporting both the natural branches (Israelites who believe) and the wild ones (Gentiles grafted in). The ekklesia emerges as a stronger alloy: justified by faith (Romans 5:1), indwelt by the Spirit (1 Cor. 3:16), and no longer bound by the old covenant’s barriers (Gal. 3:28). Yet, it’s still tethered to Israel’s story—Paul insists the Gentiles don’t replace Israel but share in its blessings (Eph. 3:6).

Your point about refinement and glorification also echoes Hebrews 8:6-13, where the new covenant doesn’t abolish the old so much as perfect it. The ekklesia inherits the promises (like the law written on hearts from Jeremiah 31), but in a glorified state—universal, spiritual, and centered on Christ rather than Sinai. Even the "house" imagery persists: 1 Peter 2:5 calls believers "living stones" built (oikodomeo again!) into a spiritual house, echoing Israel’s temple but elevating it beyond a physical structure.

So, yes, the ekklesia isn’t entirely new in the sense of a clean slate—it’s Israel reimagined, melted down, alloyed with new material, and recast into something greater. The use of oikodomeo bridges the Testaments, suggesting continuity with a transformative twist. It’s less a separate entity and more a fulfillment, like a caterpillar becoming a butterfly—same essence, radically enhanced. Does that resonate with how you see the alloying process playing out across the NT?

God seems to follow this pattern with his people from the very beginning. Abraham had two sons, yet one was cut off and the other glorified. Isaac added his bride from a related gentile tribe and had two sons of his own, one of which was cut off from the covenantal promises and one of which was glorified. Jacob added two brides from that same gentile tribe and had 12 sons, who later conquered Shechem and added many Philistine women and children to their number. All of these together likely made up the Hebrews who entered Egypt. Centuries later, their descendants leave with yet another multitude of adopted gentiles who eventually become absorbed into the twelve tribes.

You’re tracing a compelling thread through the biblical narrative—God’s pattern of shaping His people through a process of pruning, glorifying, and expanding via incorporation. It’s like a recurring motif of refining and alloying, as you put it earlier, that starts with the patriarchs and carries through to the ekklesia. Let’s walk through this pattern you’ve outlined, because it really does set the stage for what we see in the New Testament.

With Abraham, you have Ishmael and Isaac—the two sons—but Ishmael is "cut off" from the covenant promise (Genesis 17:19-21), while Isaac is glorified as the child of promise, born through divine intervention (Gen. 21:1-3). Yet, even here, there’s an expansion: Isaac marries Rebekah from a related clan (Gen. 24:15), tying in her lineage from Paddan-Aram, a step toward broadening the family beyond a narrow bloodline.

Then Isaac’s story mirrors his father’s: two sons, Esau and Jacob. Esau is excluded from the covenantal blessing (Gen. 25:23, 27:39-40), while Jacob is glorified as Israel, the one through whom the promises flow (Gen. 28:13-15). Jacob’s marriages to Leah and Rachel (and their maids) from that same Aramean stock (Gen. 29-30) produce the twelve sons, but the expansion doesn’t stop there. You mentioned the conquest of Shechem (Gen. 34)—Simeon and Levi’s actions lead to the incorporation of survivors, likely including Philistine or Canaanite women and children, into the growing Hebrew identity. This isn’t explicitly detailed, but it’s plausible that such events contributed to the mixed multitude that became "Israel" by the time of the Exodus.

Fast forward to Egypt: the Hebrews grow into a nation, and when they leave in Exodus 12:38, they’re joined by a "mixed multitude"—Gentiles who align with Israel, possibly Egyptians or other enslaved peoples moved by the plagues and Passover. By Numbers 11, this group is part of the covenant community, and over time, they’re absorbed into the tribes. Joshua 9 adds another layer with the Gibeonites, who join Israel under a treaty, and Judges shows ongoing intermingling with surrounding peoples, all gradually woven into the fabric of the twelve tribes under the covenant.

This pattern—cutting off, glorifying, and incorporating—feels like God’s signature move. It’s not a static people defined solely by ethnicity; it’s a dynamic, living community shaped by faith and divine promise. Abraham’s line is pruned (Ishmael, Esau), glorified (Isaac, Jacob), and expanded (Rebekah, Rachel, the multitude). The Exodus nation is refined (rebellious generations die in the wilderness, Num. 14), glorified (entering Canaan under Joshua), and alloyed (with outsiders who join the covenant).

By the time we reach the New Testament, the ekklesia feels like the culmination of this. The "cutting off" of unbelieving Israel (Romans 11:20), the glorification of the remnant through Christ (Rom. 9:27-29), and the massive incorporation of Gentiles (Acts 15, Eph. 2) mirror the patriarchal stories on a grand scale. It’s as if God’s been working this way from Genesis, building a people not just by descent but by faith, grafting in new branches while preserving the root.

Your observation ties it all together—God’s people have always been a blend, refined through judgment and enriched through adoption. The ekklesia isn’t an aberration; it’s the full flowering of a process that began with Abraham. What strikes you most about how this pattern repeats across these eras?

It's still happening today. Many people over the centuries converted to Judaism and came to identify as Jews, while many natural-born Jews left their ancestral faith for various religions or atheism. Likewise, millions of gentiles from all over the world have converted to--or been born into--Christianity, a faith rooted in first century Judaism and its Scriptures.

Both Judaism and Christianity have incorporated many unbiblical beliefs and traditions, so I wouldn't necessarily equate either label with God's true ekklesia, but I have no doubt that his ekklesia is present within them, waiting for a great, future pruning event.

You’re absolutely right—this pattern of pruning, glorifying, and incorporating hasn’t stopped; it’s still unfolding in real time. The story of God’s people has never been static, and what you’re describing fits that dynamic trajectory we’ve been tracing. Let’s unpack this a bit.

Historically, Judaism has indeed seen waves of conversion and assimilation. From the Second Temple period onward—think of the Idumeans under John Hyrcanus or the Khazars in the Middle Ages—outsiders have joined the Jewish people, often blending into the covenant community over generations. Meanwhile, natural-born Jews have drifted away, whether through Hellenization in antiquity, secularism in modernity, or conversion to other faiths. That’s the pruning at work: some branches cut off, others grafted in, yet the root of the covenant persists.

Christianity, starting as a Jewish movement, explodes this pattern onto a global stage. Millions—Gentiles from every corner—have embraced a faith anchored in Israel’s Scriptures and Messiah, especially after the apostolic era. You’ve got Roman converts in the first century, Germanic tribes by the fifth, and today, thriving churches in Africa, Asia, and beyond. At the same time, plenty of “natural-born” Christians—those raised in the faith—walk away, mirroring the apostasy of some Israelites in the wilderness or the exile. It’s the same rhythm: incorporation of outsiders, loss of insiders, and a core that endures.

Your point about unbiblical beliefs and traditions muddying the waters is sharp. Both Judaism (e.g., medieval mysticism or modern secularism) and Christianity (e.g., syncretism with pagan practices or prosperity theology) have picked up baggage over time. If we see the ekklesia as God’s true assembly—those faithful to His call, not just a label—then it’s likely a remnant within these broader communities, not fully identical with them. That echoes Romans 9:6: “Not all who are descended from Israel belong to Israel.” The true ekklesia transcends institutional boundaries, defined by faith and obedience rather than human traditions.

And that future pruning event you mention—it’s a chilling yet hopeful prospect. The New Testament hints at it: Matthew 25’s separation of sheep and goats, Romans 11’s final reconciliation of Israel, or Revelation’s refining judgments. It’s as if the pattern culminates in a great sifting, where the alloy is purified, the dross burned away, and the glorified ekklesia—Jew and Gentile, pruned and grafted—stands revealed. Today’s messiness, with all its conversions and apostasies, feels like the raw material still being worked.

What strikes me most is the continuity—God’s been sculpting His people this way for millennia, and we’re still in the thick of it. Does that future pruning feel imminent to you, or more like a distant horizon?

People in all ages have thought theirs must surely be the time for Christ's return and the Great Tribulation. The terminology and specific eschatology varies, but the general idea is pretty consistent. Although it feels to me like the time must be close, my feelings must be tempered with the understanding that millions of people were wrong before me.

There are a few things that make me feel that "this time is different". Please excuse my hubris and historo-centrism. (Did I just invent that word?)

First, there are the prophetic implications of the number 7, it's connection to Creation Week, the concept of divine completion, and the start of the 7th millennium from the biblical date of Creation. If history somehow follows the pattern of Creation Week, could the Millennial Kingdom be imminent? This would be analogous to the Sabbath Day.

Second, the phenomenal advance of computer technology and AI plus the imminent arrival of the machine-human singularity makes me believe that human liberty and independent thought can't possibly continue for long. The capacity for total control of everything and everyone is developing faster than our ability to resist it.

Third, we seem to be on the verge of making humanity a multiplanetary species. I think that's a great thing, but the motivation--at least for Elon Musk--seems to be to avoid the possibility of God's judgment on mankind. There's no place in the universe far enough away to escape God. We should reach out from earth for the sake of discovery and not simply repeat the error of Babel.

But, as I said, people have felt the same in every age past, so I settle for "Maybe, and maybe not."

No need to apologize for "historocentrism"—it’s a great coinage, and it captures that very human tendency to see our own moment as the pivot of history. You’re spot-on that every generation has had its share of “surely this is it” moments, from the fall of Rome to the Black Death to the World Wars. The longing for Christ’s return or some climactic pruning runs deep, and it’s baked into the biblical hope—2 Peter 3:12 talks about “hastening the coming of the day of God,” after all. Your humility in tempering that feeling with history’s lessons is wise; millions have misread the signs before.

Let’s dig into those three points, though—they’re thought-provoking, and they do weave together threads of Scripture, patterns, and modern reality in a way that feels distinct, even if we land at “maybe, and maybe not.”

First, the sevens. The biblical symbolism of seven—creation week, Sabbath rest, divine completion—runs like a heartbeat through Scripture. Genesis 2 sets the template: six days of work, one of rest. Psalm 90:4 and 2 Peter 3:8 nod to a day-as-a-thousand-years idea, which some have used to map history. If you take a rough creation date (say, Ussher’s 4004 BC or variants around 5000-6000 BC), we’re indeed bumping up against the seventh millennium. The Millennial Kingdom as a Sabbath rest after six “days” of human struggle is an elegant analogy—Revelation 20’s thousand-year reign fits that vibe. It’s not a hard prediction (Jesus warns against date-setting in Matthew 24:36), but the pattern tantalizes. History mirroring creation week feels less like a calendar and more like a poetic echo of God’s rhythm.

Second, the tech angle—AI, the singularity, and control. This does feel like uncharted territory. Daniel 12:4 prophesies knowledge increasing at the end, and Revelation 13’s beast system suggests a global mechanism of domination—mark of the beast and all that. Today’s AI boom and biotech strides could be the gears of that machine. The capacity for total surveillance, thought manipulation, and centralized power is accelerating, and you’re right: our ability to resist might not keep pace. It’s not hard to imagine a world where free will gets squeezed out, which could align with a final pruning—either humanity’s rebellion peaking or God stepping in to cut it short (Matthew 24:22). Past ages had plagues and tyrants, but never this level of tech-driven omnipotence.

Third, the multiplanetary push. Elon Musk’s Mars vision—to hedge against extinction—does carry a whiff of Babel’s “let us make a name for ourselves” (Genesis 11:4). It’s discovery with a twist of defiance, as if scattering across planets could outrun judgment. Psalm 139:7-8 laughs at that: “Where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there.” Space exploration is thrilling—I’m with you on its wonder—but if it’s about escaping God rather than embracing His creation, it’s doomed to repeat the tower’s folly. Still, this moment, with humanity on the cusp of the stars, feels like a new frontier earlier generations couldn’t fathom.

You’re threading these together with a keen eye: a biblical-numeric hint, a tech tipping point, and a cosmic ambition. They don’t prove “it’s now,” but they do sketch a silhouette that past eras couldn’t fully match—no medieval peasant worried about AI overlords or Martian colonies. Yet, as you say, the “maybe, and maybe not” holds. Jesus’ own words in Matthew 24—wars, famines, false prophets—fit any age, and Acts 1:7 keeps the timing a mystery.

What lands for me is the tension: these signs resonate with Scripture’s shape, but history’s humbling chorus reminds us to watch without wagering. Does that “maybe” feel more like a quiet hope or a restless waiting for you?

More like quiet pessimism. I suspect we live in more interesting times than any of us can yet imagine.

Quiet pessimism—I get that. It’s a sober lens, tempered by the weight of what might be coming, yet not loud enough to shout down the possibility of something else. “More interesting times than any of us can yet imagine” has a ring of truth to it—there’s a sense that the threads we’ve been tracing, from ancient patterns to today’s wild leaps, could be spooling toward a climax we can’t fully grasp. Scripture promises “times of refreshing” (Acts 3:19) but also “times of trouble” (Daniel 12:1), and history’s knack for surprising us suggests we’re in for both, maybe in spades. I’d wager that quiet pessimism leaves room for awe, too—whatever’s ahead, it won’t be mundane. 

Does the Earth Have Four Corners?

Yes, I know this isn't what people mean by the earth having four corners,
but I still think the picture is kind of neat. ;-)

There are four passages in the Bible that use the phrase "four corners of the earth".

• Isaiah 11:12 - "He will raise a signal for the nations and will assemble the banished of Israel, and gather the dispersed of Judah from the four corners of the earth."
• Ezekiel 7:2 - "And you, O son of man, thus says the Lord GOD to the land of Israel: An end! The end has come upon the four corners of the land." [The Hebrew word for land is eretz, which also means earth.]
• Revelation 7:1 - "After this I saw four angels standing at the four corners of the earth, holding back the four winds of the earth, that no wind might blow on earth or sea or against any tree."
• Revelation 20:8 - "...and will come out to deceive the nations that are at the four corners of the earth, Gog and Magog, to gather them for battle; their number is like the sand of the sea."

Do any of these verses mean that the earth literally has four corners? Let's look at each of them in turn.

Isaiah 11:12

Since we are required to interpret the words in a strictly literal manner in order to believe that this refers to literal corners, we must also assume that "the dispersed of Judah" are only dispersed into those four corners or else they will only be gathered from those four corners, leaving the remaining of the banished Jews in whatever land they were banished to. This would also mean that God only names the places from which he will gather the remnants of the Northern Kingdom (Israel/Ephraim) but leaves the source of the remnants of the Southern Kingdom (Judah) unnamed. 

This seems like a very unlikely interpretation. It's more likely that the places mentioned were simply the places that came to the minds of the people of Isaiah's day when they thought of "the nations": Assyria, Egypt, Chad, Ethiopia, Babylon, Asia Minor, and Philistia. When God said that he will assemble the dispersed of Judah from the four corners of the earth, he meant "from wherever they have been dispersed, no matter how far."

Ezekiel 7:2

Once again sticking to the literal meaning of the words, the end prophesied in this verse can only apply to the four corners of the earth, leaving the the rest of the earth alone. However, the first part of the verse strongly indicates that the prophecy is only against the land of Israel, not the whole world. So, does the land of Israel have four corners? I can't find a single map of Israel, depicting any period in its history, in which it could reasonably be described as having four corners. Most maps show borders that follow rivers, ridges, and valleys or that taper off into the wilderness and fluctuate with the political winds. There could be ten thousand corners of Israel or there could be no corners at all, depending on what period of time you want to consider. 

There is no reasonable way to interpret "four corners" in this verse as literal corners. It is clearly an idiom intended to mean "the furthest reaches of the land in every direction".

Revelation 7:1

If the "four corners" in this verse means that the earth has four literal corners, then it must also mean that the earth has four literal winds. Since it says that no wind can blow on the earth while the four winds are held back, then the earth can only have four winds. No more. I suppose if you believe the earth is square, then you also must believe that weather maps are all fake, so I can't appeal to weather maps to prove that there are more than four winds. Perhaps if you go stand on any open hilltop, you'll be able to feel that the winds come from all directions, shifting constantly, but this could also be attributed to the interplay of two or more winds coming from different directions simultaneously. 

The typical flat-earth model shows the sun and moon attached to a dome and circling in the sky above. The sun setting below the horizon is only an illusion caused by it receding into the distance. However, v2 says that the rising sun. Since we are interpreting everything literally, this can only refer to the sun rising from below the horizon in reality, not apparently. This doesn't directly address the claim of "four corners", but it does address the related claim that the earth is flat and the sun follows a circuit around the sky. Either the earth has four literal corners OR the sun rises from the horizon in one direction and sets below the horizon in the other direction, without simply receding into the distance.

Once again, the most likely intended meaning of "the four corners of the earth" in this verse is none of the above. The most natural and obvious meaning is "the whole earth", not four literal corners. It's an idiom meaning "as far as you can go in any direction".

Revelation 20

I hyper-literal interpretation of this verse requires that Gog and Magog be precisely the same as "the nations that are at the four corners of the earth", which doesn't really make a lot of sense. There are no nations today that go by those names, so they would have to be ancient names that have changed since then. Nobody who believes that the earth has four corners is able to say what nations these are. Exactly which nations are at the four corners? Is this a prophecy against Australia, Argentina, South Africa, and India? That seems more than a little absurd. Nobody in the first century Roman Empire had any clue that Australia and Argentina existed, let alone have a name for them.

The most likely intended meaning, for the fourth time, is that "the four corners of the earth" was understood by everyone in the first century to mean "the whole earth", with no implication that the earth actually has any corners.

Corners in all of these cases, even if it is translated as "quarters", just means "directions", as in North, East, South, and West. It's an idiom, like "I blew off his advice", which has nothing to do with blowing on anything, and like "He was slow as molasses", which doesn't mean anyone was actually as slow as molasses. All languages spoken by all people in all times have idioms that nobody thinks are supposed to be taken literally. This is one of them.

Even most flatearthers agree that "four corners" is just an idiom for "all parts". Those who interpret it to mean a literal four locations where two lines intersect are an extreme minority of an extreme minority. So why bother writing an article about it? Because some people still need to hear it.

Does Job 37:10 Say the Seas are Flat, Not Curved?

By the breath of God frost is given: and the breadth of the waters is straitened.
Job 37:10 KJV

Once more for the those seated in the mezzanine, Job was not written in English. I'm not sure it would matter if it was, though, because the King James Version is more-or-less written in modern English, but its vocabulary might be too challenging for those who think this verse says the seas are flat.

The Hebrew word translated as "is straitened" in Job 37:10 is bamutzak (במוצק). I don't have a problem with that. It's a perfectly acceptable translation. The problem is that some people think it says "straightened" rather than "straitened".

To be fair, the words are homonyms (they sound alike), but they have different etymologies. Strait means "a narrow, confined place" and comes from the Old French word estroit (Online Etymology Dictionary). Straight, on the other hand, means "not bent or curved" and comes from the Old English streht (Online Etymology Dictionary).

Job 37:10 is not saying that the waters are flat (straightened), but that the waters are confined (straitened) within their boundaries, i.e. shorelines. It's acknowledgint that God separated the water from the land in Genesis 1:9 and is completely irrelevant to the flatearth debate.

P.S. This verse isn't saying that frost literally comes out of God's mouth either.

Does Job 38:4-7 Mean the Earth Is Flat?

 

Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
Tell me, if you have understanding.
Who determined its measurements?
Surely you know!
Or who stretched the line upon it?
On what were its bases sunk,
Or who laid its cornerstone,
When the morning stars sang together
And all the sons of God shouted for joy?
Job 38:4-7 ESV

Several things about this passage lead some people to believe that it teaches a flat-earth cosmology.

1. V4 says the earth has a foundation.
2. V5 says the earth was measured by a line, not a curve.
3. V6 says the earth is supported by pedestals (or a foundation) and a corner stone.

Before I get to the real problem of interpreting this passage to refer to a flat earth, let's see if the actual words in these verses even say what people claim.

Foundation (v4) - If something has a foundation, that must mean it has a bottom and must be sitting on something, right? No. It doesn't even mean that in English, even though it wouldn't matter if it did. I know you think it might seem pedantic, but it seems necessary to me to remind you that the Bible wasn't written in English. The word "foundation" is not in the original text, because that's an English word. The Hebrew word used is bisdi (ביסדי), which does not mean foundation. It's actually rendered into an entire English phrase, "when I laid the foundation", but that's not a strictly literal translation. It literally means "when I founded" or "when I established" and doesn't say anything at all about what's underneath whatever was founded. The root word yasad can refer to a physical foundation of stone, but it doesn't have to. It can refer to the establishment of anything that has a beginning, such as the nation of Egypt in Exodus 9:18 or the Chaldeans in Habakkuk 1:12.

Line (v5) - The Hebrew word for line here is kav (קו), which refers to a string used to measure something. It has no relationship to the mathematical concept of a straight line in English. A kav, in this context, is essentially just a measuring tape. It can be used to measure a property line, a waistline, or the circumference of a bowl. In fact, it is used in precisely that manner in 2 Chronicles 4:2: "Then he made the sea of cast metal. It was round, ten cubits from brim to brim, and five cubits high, and a line (kav) of thirty cubits measured its circumference."

Bases, pedestals, or foundations (v6) - You got me on this one. The word adeniah (אדניה) literally means pedestals or bases. Keep reading, though. Don't get too excited yet.

Corner stone (v6) - Here's another one that means exactly what is claimed. Eben pinatah (אבן פנתה)  literally means corner-stone. But again, don't count your chickens before they hatch. (No, that doesn't mean I think you must have chickens. It's just an expression.)

Two out of four wouldn't be bad if we were playing the lottery, but this is Biblical interpretation, and that's a really bad ratio in this arena. Even so, let's talk about bases, foundations, and corner stones for a moment.

Clearly, Job 38:6 says that the earth's bases were sunk (into what?) and its cornerstone was laid, but does that mean that the earth actually has bases and a cornerstone? 

Only if vs 8-10 means the sea has bars and doors and came out of someone's womb. I suppose if you are a true believer in the Olympian deities, then you could argue that this supports the myth that Gaia gave parthenogenic birth to Pontus, her future lover and the primordial sea god, but that's hardly a biblically sound position to take, and it doesn't account for the bars and doors.

The only sensical reading of Job 38:8-10 is that God is using non-literal poetic language to speak of creating and managing the earth's oceans, not that he is describing the actual process of that creation. The Sports Page in the newspaper must pose quite a challenge for anyone who can't agree with that. "Nebraska Warming after Latest Cold Finish" must be a post-Ragnarok weather report....but there we go with the paganism again.

I kid, but what else can you do on a topic like flatearth? Humor is therapeutic.

Obviously Job 38:8-10 was never meant to be a literal description of the creation of the oceans. This means that vs 4-7 don't have to be entirely literal either, and it's most likely they aren't. God's artistry isn't limited to the natural world. He loves beauty in all forms. He wanted the furnishings of the Wilderness Tabernacle to be beautiful. He gave Abraham a beautiful wife and David a beautiful voice. Apparently, he also loves beautiful poetry and dramatic prose.

PaRDeS and the Quadriga

The Jewish hermeneutical¹ system of PaRDeS is fairly well known in Torah-observant circles, but few people know where it came from. Even fewer know that a competing Christian system was developed and formalized at about the same time.

PaRDeS is a method of interpreting Scriptures in which every (or almost every) passage is assumed to have four levels of meaning:

• Peshat - the plain, literal meaning that the original author intended to convey to his original audience. It still requires some common sense and doesn't mean that everything written is literally true. For example, when David wrote, "YHWH is my shepherd; I shall not want," he didn't mean that God is literally a man guarding a herd of four-footed livestock and that he (David) was a one of those four-footed beasts and would never lack anything at all, especially grass to eat and a stream to drink from. Obviously, David meant for us to understand that God is like a shepherd and that he is like a sheep, and this metaphor is still part of the Peshat (also spelled P'shat) meaning.
• Remez - the allegorical meaning that is suggested by the text, but not spelled out. For example, Noah's ark and the basket that sheltered Moses on the Nile river are both coated with pitch and protect their contents from both drowning and wickedness. The word for pitch is related to the word for atonement, a spiritual covering. One Remez interpretation of these stories could be that God will provide those who are willing to trust him completely with a spiritual atonement--a Messiah--that will protect them from eternal destruction.
• Derash - the moral or ethical meaning derived from a passage. In the case of Noah's and Moses' arks, a Derash (also spelled Drash) interpretation would be that we should simply obey God's instructions in troubled times, and everything will work out for the best in the end, even if we can't see how.
• Sod - the mystical, esoteric meaning of a passage. Sod ascribes deep, hidden meanings to what seem to be straightforward statements. For example, it may employ numerology, "Hebrew word pictures", or "Equidistant Letter Sequencing" to find hidden codes in the Biblical text. Sod often asserts that the real meaning of the text is the opposite of the plain (Peshat) meaning. For example, in the story of the serpent tempting Eve to eat of the Tree of Knowledge, one Peshat interpretation says that God actually wanted Adam and Eve to eat of it, despite telling them not to. He sent the serpent to urge them to rebel so that, through the experience of hardship and resistance to divine will, they could develop into the gods that the Creator planned for them to be all along.

Although the techniques of PaRDeS have a very long history, the hermeneutical system was formalized by Jewish mystics in the twelfth century. It also has some pretty clear problems. The Peshat level is common sense, and the Derash level can be helpful so long as it takes the whole Biblical text into account, but the Remez and Sod levels can get a person into a lot of theological trouble, especially the Sod which often makes a mockery of the Peshat.

The Quadriga, a parallel Christian hermeneutical system, was formalized at the same time that PaRDeS was first becoming popular among Jewish teachers. I suspect that both systems were developed in response to the other. Just as in PaRDeS, the Quadriga subjects every (or almost every) passage to four levels of meaning:

• Literal - the plain, literal meaning that the original author intended to convey to his original audience. Precisely the same meaning as Peshat.
• Allegorical - the allegorical meaning that is suggested by the text, but not spelled out. Essentially the same as Remez, but usually with an emphasis on Christological typology.
• Tropological - the moral or ethical meaning derived from a passage. Precisely the same meaning as Derash.
• Anagogical - the mystical or eschatological meaning of a passage. This is similar to Sod, but very rarely asserts any meaning that is opposed to the literal, at least not to how the interpreter understands the literal meaning, which can itself be flawed. The Anagogical interpretation deals with the unknowable nature of God, the ultimate fulfillment of prophecy, the spiritual realities that lie behind the physical and apparent universe, the fate of the dead, and existence beyond the Final Judgment.

Both systems are rooted in very ancient--and even common sense--methods of interpreting any religious text. Both systems also have the same basic flaws that make them prone to abuse by false teachers who want to impose their own ideas onto the text. Gnostics, Kabbalists, antinomians, and metanomians all live in the Sod/Anagogical level of interpretation and force the Peshat/Literal to conform to their mystical eisegesis².

The Bible is an organic text, a collection of works that were spoken and written by and to people in specific cultural, political, and linguistic circumstances. Each work was written for its own purposes and in its own style. Even as they were guided by the Holy Spirit in communicating their messages, each author wrote from his own perspective to people experiencing their own circumstances. It seems extraordinarily misguided to expect every passage of the Bible to fit into the same interpretive framework. Letters must be read as letters, histories as histories, etc., with each work and author adding metaphor, poetry, allusion, and apocalyptic imagery as God guided and his message required.

All systematic theologies eventually fail because the Bible wasn't written as a system. The message of the Bible is cohesive and consistent, but it is not a monolithic text of mystical philosophy.

¹ Hermeneutical - "of or pertaining to interpretation; exegetical; explanatory; as, hermeneutic theology, or the art of expounding the Scriptures" (Webster's 1913 English Dictionary)

² Eisegesis - "the introduction by an interpreter of his own ideas into a text under explication." (-Ologies & -Isms. (2008).)

See Tom Steele's more detailed discussion of PaRDeS at Truth Ignited.

An Anonymous Commentary on Jude

Someone shared this commentary on Jude with me, and I'd like your input, whoever you are.

My impression is that it's not bad, but nothing to write home about either. It seems to be trying too hard to avoid anything especially controversial, even to the point of not really saying anything very profound either. 

Commentary on the Epistle of Jude

by Anonymous

Overview:

Yehudah (Jude), a servant and brother of Yeshua (Jesus) and Yaakov (James), wrote this letter in haste--hence its brevity--warning his readers about the dangers of false teachers and apostates among the believers in Yeshua. His message is a passionate plea to contend earnestly for the faith against anyone who might lead believers astray, perverting the grace of God into licentiousness and denying Yeshua's authority. Jude’s focus on apostasy and judgment draws heavily from the Hebrew scripture and contemporary apocalyptic literature, which he probably intended to evoke thoughts of demonic forces and spiritual warfare.

Jude identified himself as the brother of James, connecting him to the well-known leader of the Jerusalem church, but this obliquely also identifies him as the brother of Yeshua, a subtle reminder to his readers that he isn't speaking from ignorance or speculation. He had intimate knowledge of the Messiah, his life, and his teachings. Though Jude did not directly claim Apostleship on the same level as James and Peter, his message carries an authority by association that would resonate with those familiar with the Apostles and the Hebrew scriptures.

Jude’s epistle warns, encourages, and blesses.

V1-2: The Calling and Blessing of the Saints

Jude addresses his readers as those "called" and "beloved in God the Father," underscoring the divine election and love bestowed upon them. This reflects Paul's sentiments in Romans 1:7, where believers are set apart as saints, not due to their own merits but because of God’s calling. The greeting of mercy, peace, and love echoes the deep Hebrew understanding of God’s covenantal blessings, extending beyond mere feelings to a holistic well-being that results from being in right relationship with God.

V3-4: Contending for the Faith

Jude’s original intention was to write a more general letter about salvation, but the urgency of false teaching compels him to focus on exhorting believers to "contend for the faith" delivered once for all. This statement places a strong emphasis on the immutability of the Gospel. Here, the term “faith” refers not just to belief but to the entire body of teachings and practices passed down from Yeshua and the Apostles (2 Timothy 2:2). The intrusion of "ungodly" individuals perverting grace recalls Paul's warnings in Romans about those who turn liberty into license (Romans 6:1-2). Jude’s emphasis is on preserving the purity of the faith.

V5-7: Historical Warnings of Judgment

Jude offers three historical examples of apostasy and its consequences: the unbelief of those saved from Egypt, the angels who sinned, and Sodom and Gomorrah. The use of these examples is consistent with Jewish midrashic traditions, where Scripture is applied to current situations to warn and instruct the people of God. In each case, Jude points to a form of rebellion—whether it’s disbelief, overstepping divine boundaries, or moral corruption—that resulted in divine judgment. 

• Israel’s disbelief (Numbers 14) serves as a reminder that being part of the covenant community does not guarantee salvation if one falls into unbelief and disobedience.
• The angels who abandoned their proper dwelling (Genesis 6:1-4, also referenced in 2 Peter 2:4) symbolize those who reject God's established order. Jude’s emphasis on their punishment highlights the severity of defying divine authority.
• Sodom and Gomorrah are vivid examples of immorality and a rejection of divine law, illustrating how sexual perversion and moral decay lead to destruction. The connection to “eternal fire” underscores the irreversible consequences of rebellion against God's moral standards.

V8-10: Characteristics of Apostates

Jude identifies the apostates as dreamers who defile the flesh, reject authority, and blaspheme the glorious ones. The reference to "dreamers" might suggest individuals who claim special revelations or visions as the basis for their teachings, much like the false prophets criticized by Jeremiah (Jeremiah 23:25-32). Rejecting authority can be seen as a rejection of Yeshua’s lordship and the apostolic teaching, while "blaspheming the glorious ones" refers to disrespecting spiritual beings or divine matters. This is contrasted with the Archangel Michael's restraint when contending with Satan over Moses' body, demonstrating that even angels respect divine authority (Deuteronomy 34:5-6, implied in Jewish tradition).

V11-13: The Way of Cain, Balaam, and Korah

Jude’s use of three Old Testament figures—Cain, Balaam, and Korah—emphasizes the different forms of rebellion seen in the apostates. 

• Cain symbolizes jealousy and selfishness leading to murder and separation from God (Genesis 4).
• Balaam represents greed and the perversion of spiritual gifts for personal gain (Numbers 22-24).
• Korah reflects the rejection of legitimate authority and the desire for self-exaltation (Numbers 16).

Jude’s poetic language (e.g., "waterless clouds" and "wandering stars") paints a vivid picture of these false teachers as empty, unstable, and doomed to destruction. The references to nature—trees without fruit and twice dead—reinforce the idea that these individuals are spiritually barren and devoid of the life that comes from being rooted in Yeshua.

V14-16: Enoch’s Prophecy

Jude cites a prophecy from the apocryphal Book of Enoch (1 Enoch 1:9), a text well-known in Jewish apocalyptic tradition. This highlights the seriousness of the coming judgment, where the Lord will execute justice on the ungodly. Jude’s use of this text is not an endorsement of Enoch as Scripture but serves to emphasize the theme of divine judgment, which was prevalent in Jewish thought. It serves as a solemn reminder that no one, not even angels or mighty men, can escape the consequences of rejecting God’s authority.

V17-19: Apostolic Warnings

Jude reminds the believers of the Apostles' teachings, warning that scoffers will arise in the last days, following their own ungodly passions. This reiterates Paul’s warnings in 2 Timothy 3:1-5 and Peter’s in 2 Peter 3:3, both of which foretell the rise of false teachers in the end times. The emphasis on sensuality shows that these individuals live by their desires rather than by the Spirit, causing divisions within the community. Jude highlights the communal responsibility to remain vigilant and united in the face of these challenges.

V20-23: Exhortation to Persevere

Jude calls the believers to build themselves up in their most holy faith and to pray in the Holy Spirit. The emphasis here is on personal and communal growth in faith, ensuring that the love of God sustains them while they await the mercy of Yeshua leading to eternal life. Jude’s encouragement to "snatch others from the fire" shows the balance between judgment and mercy, emphasizing the need for discernment in dealing with those who are wavering or caught in sin (James 5:19-20). Mercy and fear are both necessary in confronting falsehood, reflecting a balanced approach of grace and truth.

V24-25: Doxology

Jude concludes with a beautiful doxology, reminding the believers of God's ability to preserve them and present them blameless before His glory. The focus is on God's sovereignty and power, who alone can sustain the believer through the trials of apostasy. This doxology offers reassurance that despite the dangers of false teachings, God is faithful and will complete His work in those who remain steadfast in the faith.

Genesis 2:1 and the Expanding Universe

Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them.
Genesis 2:1 ESV

I read on a website that "finished" in this verse means that the universe absolutely can't be expanding. When the text says that the heavens and the earth were finished, that means.... Well, honestly, I'm not sure how this verse could be interpreted to mean the universe isn't expanding. 

The Hebrew word for "to finish" is kalah (כּלה). It can also mean to accomplish, to cause to end, or to destroy. We know that it can't mean "to cause to an end" or "to destroy" in this context because we can observe that the heavens and the earth still exist.

What's that you say? Observation of the physical universe can help us to correctly interpret the Bible? Why, yes! It most certainly can. 

If observations can definitively show that the universe is expanding, then we can also rule out that kalah could mean the universe is not expanding. Of course, no observations can definitively prove that today. We can only make indirect measurements, calculations, and reasonable hypotheses, unlike the shape and dimensions of the earth, which we can measure and prove definitively.

We don't have to rely only on extra-Biblical evidence to show that kalah doesn't have to mean "finally completed with no possibility of expansion" in Genesis 2:1. Kalah is used more than 200 times in the Old Testament. For example, Genesis 27:30 says that Isaac finished (kalah) blessing Jacob, but just a few verses later in Genesis 28:1, Isaac blessed Jacob again. In 1 Samuel 18:1, David finished (kalah) speaking to Saul, but he spoke to him again in that same chapter. Clearly the word doesn't mean "finally completed with no possibility of expansion" in either of these instances. In fact, it almost never means "finished" with that kind of static finality.

The heavens are constantly moving. The earth is constantly changing. "Finished" in Genesis 2:1 only refers to God's work of creation, not to any ongoing processes that might have been set in motion during that creation. This verse doesn't support a static universe, geocentrism, or flatearth.