Nielsen’s Nook

Psalm 98:1-3 (NRSV)

¹ O sing to the Lord a new song,
for he has done marvelous things.
His right hand and his holy arm
have gotten him victory.
² The Lord has made known his victory;
he has revealed his vindication in the sight of the nations.
³ He has remembered his steadfast love and faithfulness
to the house of Israel.
All the ends of the earth have seen
the victory of our God.

God’s salvation is not simply a thing announced, but a ‘wrought’ reality. In saving us, God truly does certain deeds, ‘wondrous things,’ by which we are redeemed. God saves man by the forceful intrusion of His holiness into man’s history. God’s arm is a metaphor of this irrupting redemptive holiness. In the ‘wondrous things’ of the Incarnation, the Atonement, the Resurrection, God’s arm invades the process of human destiny with the outpouring of His own life. Man’s life is thereby given access to the incorruptible life of God.¹

Reardon, Fr. Patrick Henry. Christ in the Psalms. (Ben Lomond, CA: Conciliar Press, 2000), 193.

The third and last section of Osborne’s article, “Special Issues” moves to consider the following elements:

1. Paul’s use of Hellenistic forms of rhetoric
2. Liturgical elements in Paul
3. Virtue and vice lists in Paul
4. The center of Paul’s theology
5. Theological development in Paul
6. Sociological factors in Paul
7. Paul’s relation to the narrative
8. Contextualization of Paul

In order to not get too bogged down in the details here, this writer will interact with some of the themes that runs through out these sections. In the section ‘The Center of Paul’s Theology” Osborne asks this question:

Since the Pauline letters are occasional in nature, and since Paul failed to develop his thought systematically, is it possible to conceive of a Pauline “theology” in the broad sense or of a “center” in the narrow sense?¹

With the controversy that has surrounded the Apostle Paul since his calling by Christ Jesus into the Apostolic office, there is much to be said here. Osborne informs us that most interpreters have sought to seek a balance. Since there is no overwhelming consensus on what that center is, many have sought to articulate a “cluster of themes rather than a single idea or controlling principle.” ² Osborne offers this solution to the dilemma:

The way out of the maze is to utilize the techniques of biblical theology, especially those of the analytical method. A “bottom-up” approach will follow the themes as they develop from one Pauline letter to another, allowing them to decide their own direction. ³

So far so good. However, we suggest one qualification which we will seek to understand via considering more of Osborne’s thoughts in this article.

Personally, “analytic method” is not a term that we would expect to see in apposition to “biblical theology.” Perhaps, because Osborne does not define the nuance he is presenting in the term “analytic method” we may find through other writings that he is concerned with the qualification that we make here. How does one implement biblical theology and have any assurance that the venues one explores in Paul are not rabbit trails but actually the main ideological thoroughfare Paul travels?

If the concept of scriptura ex scriptura explicanda est (roughly, scripture from scripture is explicated) still holds then we are bound to employ both a bottom up, inductive, biblical theological approach to the texts in concert with a top down, systematic, deductive fashion those scriptures outside of Paul, particularly those that can bring perspicuity to some of the unclear statements he has written. So the qualification would be that mere biblical theology will not provide the resolution that some offer as over against a merely systemic approach.

If we would understand scripture that it might be the explanation of scripture, then it would seem employing such circumspect studies of sociology contemporaneous with the texts being studied, understanding Paul’s use of narrative and rhetoric, and his theological development is necessary for understanding Paul on his own terms. Osborne rightly advocates the tempered use of some of these elements directing the reader towards a more balanced reading of Paul.

Osborne, Grant R. “Hermeneutics/Interpreting Paul.” In Dictionary of Paul and His Letters, ed. Gerald F. Hawthorne, Ralph P. Martin and Daniel G. Reid, 388-396. Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 1993.

I have some time off from preaching for a while, so I am diving into Paul, especially the book of Romans after spending much time in Genesis, Deuteronomy and the Psalms.� In trying to understand how first century apocalyptic elements may have featured in Paul’s writing, I came across this article by Osborne.� I found it engaging and insightful, while at the same time troublesome, such that I felt the need to work out some of the reflections I had here.� Perhaps readers of the Nook will have irenic insight for me also.

Osborne’s article, after brief introduction, falls plainly into three sections.� First, he addresses recent hermeneutical issues, establishing so called “Classical Hermeneutics” over against various interpretive theories and hermeneutical frameworks.� Second, the article briefly considers the rubric and specifics of the forms Paul uses in his epistolary writing.� Finally, Osborne marches through territory he names “Special Issues.”� Here Osborne touches on rhetorical criticism, Paul’s use of liturgical material, social codes impacting Paul, the center of Pauline theology, Paul’s theological development, Paul and sociology, narrative criticism, and the contextualization of the Pauline corpus.

In the coming posts, I will lay out some of the high points Osborne makes and attempt to interact meaningfully with them.

Clowney, Edmund Prosper. How Jesus Transforms the Ten Commandments, ed. Rebecca Clowney Jones. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R Publishing, 2007. xiv, 154. $12.99.

This posthumous work is everything you would expect from Ed Clowney, who this writer suspects is presently finding new and more wonderful Christological connections now with the Lord. The book is pastoral, theological and of course very concerned with redemptive history.

The purpose of the book, expressed in the preface, fits clearly under the rubric of redemptive history: “What role does the law play in the history of redemption?”[1] In answering this question, Clowney opens up to the reader his interpretive approach to the Bible: “Christ not only obeyed the law, but also displayed its true meaning and depth.”
[2]

In the initial chapter, the case is made generally as to how Jesus, the covenant Lord, fulfills the law, which was “given to be a reflection of the divine character.”[3] The Ten Commandments come to us in the context of a common ancient Near Eastern literary form in which the vassal king must be exclusively committed to the supreme suzerain ruler, who promised curse for disobedience and blessing for obedience. [4] In light of the repeated failure of God’s people, the Lord brought exile and judgment. Yet, out of this slough of despond, the old things are made new in Christ. [5] In insisting on the persistence of the Old Testament covenant, [6] Jesus “fulfills the law by obeying it, but also by revealing its promise.”[7]

In chapters two through eleven, the focus is on Jesus’ fulfillment of each of the Ten Commandments specifically. Following Deuteronomy 6, Clowney makes the case that all subsequent commandments are predicated upon the first commandment, in which God establishes his identity and right to speak commandments for us to obey.[8] In placing the Ten Commandments in the paradigm of the Exodus, Clowney underscores that the law Giver is also the Redeemer, whose “redemption is not done by proxy.” [9] In becoming our Savior, God demonstrates himself to be our Bridegroom and King in the person of Jesus Christ. Indeed, “incarnation is insufficient to redeem” and so in Jesus, our Redeemer is also the Suffering Servant and Conquering Savior. Consequently, the first commandment stresses that there shall be no other name than that of Jesus. [10]

Chapter three presents an array of issues revolving around the prohibition of idol worship. After establishing a person as one created in the image of God, Clowney briefly chases perspectives which have sought to either overstate or understate the dignity of humanity. Resolving this tension is Jesus Christ, who is “God’s gracious gift of an anointed image, which we are not only permitted but commanded to worship.”[11] The only way to avoid idolatry, spiritual or otherwise, is union with Christ.

The name of the Lord is not to be used in vain because “God himself is present in his name, and all his works reveal that name.” [12] In fact the manifold names of God point us forward to fulfillment in Christ, [13] who gives us that triune family name that we receive at baptism, our name-giving ceremony[14] that we might honor that name.

The Sabbath, a creation ordinance repeated in the law, expresses God’s covenant with his people and is a sign not only of creation but of redemption.[15] Thus when Jesus declares that he is Lord of the Sabbath, he proclaims himself as our Creator, Redeemer and Sabbath rest. [16] Consequently, “first-day worship is part of our calling to do more, not less”[17] and that finding our joy and rest in laboring for God must extend to every day of the week.[18]

Chapter six extends to the reader a practical handling of the fifth commandment, concerning Jesus’ family values,[19] imploring parents to nurture their children as those who have received the family name of God in baptism as they have.[20] Thus, together we honor our family name – ‘Christian’.[21]

The gospel approach to honoring human life avoids esteeming it more than the Creator and devaluing human life of its uniqueness in the created order.[22] It is alone Jesus who “provides the very Life that can rescue us from our murderous selves.”[23]

Marriage and its antithesis, adultery, are figures that describe God’s covenant love for his unfaithful people. The command not to commit adultery ultimately looks forward to the union believers have with Christ that “lasts longer than marriage.”[24] This chapter also examines, in cursory form, gender relations and Christian marriage and sexuality.

In directing our hearts to himself, the true treasure, Jesus fulfills the eighth commandment.[25] This wealth is in fact the inheritance believers have in Christ. It is more than getting stuff or honor. Jesus gives himself to us, that we may be one with him.[26] In abiding in Christ the believer learns not only to refrain from theft, but more importantly “to multiply our treasure by clinging to Christ alone.” [27]

God has sworn by himself and his word that this witness is true. He has sent his Son Jesus, “the faithful witness.” Jesus bore witness to the Father. The Spirit now bears witness through his people throughout history. Even to his people, Jesus continues to bear witness in inscripturating the apostolic witness of the New Testament and in giving to the Church the Eucharist and baptism in which he is spiritually present. Christ has sent his Church out, as individuals and corporately, to bear witness to himself – not by means of personal experience – but by joining “our own witness to that of the apostles and prophets.”[28]

Jesus stated the tenth commandment positively when he said, “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness” (Matt 6:33). This commandment now compels believers away from anything “that would draw us away from contentedly serving God wherever in his good providence he has placed us.” [29] It proclaims a singularity of love to God alone[30] with all our heart, our soul and exceedingly all of us.

My criticisms of this book are two. First, Clowney seems to vacillate between the claim that “Jesus fulfills the law” and that “Jesus transforms the law”. The latter statement (also the title of the book) seems problematic since Clowney claims the law was “given to be a reflection of the divine character”[31] and divine character is immutable. Conceptually, Clowney clearly argues for the idea of fulfillment of the law; however, suggesting that Jesus transforms the law might introduce unnecessary confusion. Here perhaps Clowney would have done well to clarify that the idea of transformation is not “of the law” but of our understanding of the law in light of Christ. Second, while Dr. Clowney was able to address many weighty and controversial matters in the course of this book, the cursory handling of topics like submission, gender relations and sexuality may leave readers disappointed and wanting more substantial discussion.

Clowney’s book, including its study questions, comes highly recommended as a helpful introduction to the role of the law in the history of redemption.

William J. Nielsen is presently a PCA pastoral candidate preaching frequently as a licentiate of the North Texas Presbytery, PCA and reflecting at Nielsen’s Nook.

[3] Ibid., 2.

[4] Ibid., 3.

[5] Ibid., 7.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Ibid., 8.

[8] Ibid., 12.

[9] Ibid., 14.

[10] Ibid., 20.

[11] Ibid., 27.

[12] Ibid., 40.

[13] Ibid., 45.

[14] Ibid., 44.

[15] Ibid., 55.

[16] Ibid., 59.

[17] Ibid., 62.

[18] Ibid., 151.

[19] Ibid., 67.

[20] Ibid., 72.

[21] Ibid., 77.

[22] Ibid., 80.

[23] Ibid., 84.

[24] Ibid., 96.

[25] Ibid., 107.

[26] Ibid., 114.

[27] Ibid., 120.

[28] Ibid., 136.

[29] Ibid., 145.

[30] Ibid., 149.

[31] Ibid., 2.

II. Covenantal Framework

A. Covenantal Implications in a Sacramental World

Broadly speaking we live in a sacramental world that is related to us by means of covenant (WCF 7.1). So if we do not understand Adam and Eve’s relationship as creatures to their Creator and his Creation, these two trees in the midst of the Garden of Eden will not make any sense.

1. Covenantal: divine, personal condescension

Covenant is a word that we use often in the Presbyterian and Reformed tradition. It is a biblical term and one that has been developed theologically for thousands of years. The Westminster Confession of Faith describes covenant as the expression of “voluntary condescension on God’s part” in which he reveals to us something of who he is, what he requires of us, and what the consequences are for obedience and disobedience.

Adam and Eve operated in a context of covenant. God said to Adam, “You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day you do, you shall surely die.” (Genesis 2:16-17) God had condescended to Adam, explaining clearly the parameters of the covenant and clearly enunciating the penalty for
disobedience. What is promised implicitly but clearly here is that if Adam were to obey, he would receive the life promised to him in the tree first named, the tree of life.

I had said just a moment ago that “Broadly speaking we live in a sacramental world that is related to us by means of covenant.” I hope you see how the circumstances of how Adam and Eve were related to God were indeed covenantal. Now, I want to help you understand what I mean when I say that we live in a sacramental world.

2. Sacramental: physical means of a spiritual communication

As Protestants we believe that the scriptures teach us that there are only two sacraments, baptism and the Lord’s Supper or Eucharist. A sacrament, according to the Westminster Shorter Catechism, is an outward or physical means, whereby Christ communicates to us the benefits of redemption.[1]

Now, I am not implying that all of creation communicates to us the benefits of redemption. What I am saying is that God uses physical or outward means to communicate spiritually to us. In psalm 19 we find evidence for this. God uses the heavens to communicate to us something of the spiritual reality of his glory.

B. The Sacramental Nature of the Trees

While all of nature tells us unspeakably much about the Creator, these two trees in the midst of the Garden of Eden were physical symbols being used by God in the context of covenant to communicate a spiritual reality. So in this broad sense of the term, the trees are sacramental.

C. Probation of Humanity in the Garden

Had Adam and Eve obeyed the prohibition God had given not to eat of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, there is reason to believe that the tree would have “played a role in a very different sort of transformation.” [2]

D. Destiny

To say that there would have been a “different sort of transformation” is to say that God did not create human beings for failure and fig leaves. Our destiny is not dark knowledge and cheap existence, but bright wisdom and thick life.

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[1] See WSC#88.

[2] William N. Wilder, “Illumination and Investiture: The Royal Significance of the Tree of Wisdom in Genesis 3,” The Westminster Theological Journal 68.1, no. Spring (2006): 52.

I. Introduction

A. Propositional Anemia

Part of the problem with the church today is that we really have lost connection with God’s work in history. Being a Christian, in many cases, has been reduced down to 3-5 propositions about grace, humanity, God, Christ and faith - abstracting the propositional from the historical.

If I told you that it was important for you to understand that a man painted a woman’s home, would that matter to you? Not really, it is a mere proposition and not a very interesting one at that. But what if I told you that a man, who was out of work, painted an elderly widow’s home at his own expense out of a deep conviction and delight that God uses people like him to care for people like her? Now we’re talking! The history of the thing has breathed life into the proposition that ‘a man painted a woman’s home.’

B. Satanic Strategy towards Apathy

Personally, I believe the reduction of the Christian faith to mere proposition is a quite amazing strategy of the Enemy of our God and our faith. If he can keep our faith in the abstract then he will never have to worry about our faith affecting us or anyone else.

C. Robust Historical Christianity

The good news is that our faith is not merely propositional. We believe the propositions of the faith handed down to us by those Christians who have come before us who received it from those before them. The connection goes back to those people like the Apostle Paul, King David, Abraham, Moses and our first parents, Adam and Eve. If you understand the weight of my argument here, you understand that Christianity, the faith of God working redemption throughout time and space, is of cosmic proportions and not merely a handful of propositions that we believe merely intellectually or emotionally.

Our faith is built upon the word of God, spoken by the Apostles and Prophets, now inscripturated in the Bible. It reveals to us that even before there was sin in the world, there was faith and faithfulness. Adam and Eve, the image of God, walking in the likeness of God, were created to have uninhibited fellowship with God. That is what is meant by paradise. In the created order, God was communicating to Adam and Eve in ways that are very much alive to us today.

1 The heavens declare the glory of God,
and the sky above proclaims his handiwork.
2 Day to day pours out speech,
and night to night reveals knowledge.
(Psalm 19:1-2, ESV)

As his image we say and do things that communicate far more than the mere proposition of our words or appearance of our actions. The two trees in the midst of this Garden of Eden are communicating to us a great symphony of covenantal overture.

Recently I read an article on the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil in the midst of the Garden of Eden. Personally, I found this article by William N. Wilder in the Westminster Theological Journal was quite edifying. So here’s the citation if you’re interested in reading it yourself:

Wilder, William N. “Illumination and Investiture: The Royal Significance of the Tree of Wisdom in Genesis 3.” The Westminster Theological Journal 68.1, no. Spring (2006): 51-69.

I relied heavily on Wilder’s work in a sermon that I preached today, largely because I had been so gripped myself by his thoughts. Over the next days I will be posting a written version of that sermon from my notes. I will do my best to cite his thoughts from mine, however, for those readers who also preach part of a good sermon is that level of meditation when you have so ingested the material that it becomes part of you. So this will serve as my blanket citation to that end.

Goto Part I

It is no coincidence that John informs us that Philip, whom Jesus had found, was from “Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter.” Bethsaida was a fishing town just down the western shore of the Sea of Galilee from Capernaum, where Peter had built his home. “It is not unlikely that as fishermen in a fishing cooperative with James and John (Mk 1:19) they took their boats back and forth between Capernaum and Bethsaida.” ¹ The connection of Andrew and the unnamed disciple (John 1:35-39) was the means that Jesus seems to have used to find Philip.

Philip in turn went and found Nathanael. When Nathanael questioned the worthiness of Philip’s claim that he had found the fulfillment of the entire Old Testament (c.f., Deuteronomy 18:15-22), Philip replies simply, “Come and see.” It is quite a claim that Philip has made; however, what we find is that even that claim is an understatement. Our expectations of what we will see when we come to Jesus continue to be shaped and challenged.

When Nathanael comes to Jesus, he thinks he is amazed. Jesus saw him under the fig tree. This evokes from Nathanael, “Son of God! … King of Israel!”. However, what we find in this passage is that Jesus, the Incarnate Word, brings an amazement that is more than the maximum. Jesus responds with his first testimony of himself recorded in John’s Gospel, “You will see greater things that these. Truly, truly I say to you, you will see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man” (John 1:50-51).

This is an allusion to Jacob’s dream (Genesis 28:10-22), in which he saw a ladder or stairway leading to heaven. In Jacob’s dream, God stood distant at the top of the stairs, mediating his affairs on earth through angels and dreams. In John 1:51 we find that God has come down the ladder, descended the stairs himself and brought heaven with him in the person of Jesus, the second person of the Trinity. As such Jesus is presenting himself as the only way by which anyone may come to God. He is the mediation also. In the incarnation then, we find that Jesus reveals himself to us as God himself and the way to God. To deny Christ’s mediatorial role is to deny God himself. To insert anything between God and humanity in addition to Jesus alone is to deny both the mediation and God who mediates.

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¹ Craig S. Keener and InterVarsity Press, The IVP Bible Background Commentary : New Testament (Downers Grove, Ill.: InterVarsity Press, 1993), Jn 1:44.

My wife and I not knowing much about fine art, purchased a course on the paintings on display in the Louvre and have been amazed at all that can be found in a single painting. One famous painting, now infamous thanks to Dan Brown, that we learned about was the Mona Lisa. Up to this point, my education on the Mona Lisa was through Looney Tunes. I was stunned to see how much professor Richard Brettell was able to open my eyes to the painting I have seen all of my life: the angular and mysterious landscape beyond the young woman in the picture for example - or the smirk on her face.

You will notice in John 1:35-51 the phrase “come and see” is used three times (twice in v 39 and in v 46). A question that the Gospel of John elicits at this point in the narrative is, “What do we expect to see when we come?”

John has given us a tremendous prelude to his Gospel in John 1:1-18. The one who made all that is has come to dwell with us in the flesh, demonstrating himself to be the exegesis or explanation of the Father. John the Baptist is introduced in John 1:19-34, testifying as the forerunner to the Incarnate Word described in the previous section. He adds one more significant detail to our understanding of the Incarnate Word. This Incarnate Word is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. This is the second categorical bomb that we read in John. It explodes our minds and fills us with hope.

So when we come to our section (1:35-51) we find a transition between the public ministry of John the Baptist and that of Jesus of Nazareth. It is no small thing to see one as regarded as John the Baptist directing his disciples Andrew and an unnamed disciple to follow Jesus (v 37). It builds upon our sense of expectation and yet the question remains: what is it that we are expecting?

Jesus does not wait for Andrew and the unnamed disciple to ask, but asks them, “What are you seeking?” Jesus begins the dialog of faith. These first disciples, the church of two, come and stay (μενοω) with Jesus. Whatever they ’saw’ in him during their time together moved them to tell others that he was the Messiah or Christ. Shouldn’t we also be amazed at the way Peter ‘comes’ to and ’sees’ Jesus. The first apostle among equals, Peter, was not the first whom Jesus called. He came through his brother Andrew. As Calvin exhorts us, “none of us, however excellent, may refuse to be taught by an inferior”.¹ Second, Simon is given a new name. In the Old Testament names were given on the basis of what had happened in the past (compare Genesis 17). Here Simon is renamed Peter on the basis of all that the Incarnate Word would make the future to be.

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¹ John Calvin. Calvin’s Commentaries (electronic ed.;, electronic ed. Garland, TX: Galaxie Software, 2000), Jn 1:40.

In reflecting on this morning’s sermon by Pete Deison at Park Cities Presbyterian Church, I began to consider the intricate relationship between prayer and righteousness. The memorable experience that this prayer was for Abraham seems to lend itself to encouraging us to pray and to reflect on the righteousness required for prayer.

It is notable in this passage that Abraham’s desire was that the city of Sodom be spared the wrath of God’s just destruction of it. Pastor Deison reminded us this morning that there were many in the city with whom Abraham had relation. He had conquered the five kings that had pillaged Sodom and returned all of its citizens belongings back to it. He had met with the king of Sodom and of course had family there, namely that of Lot. While Lot was influential in commerce and perhaps politics, he was not influential for the Lord.

Abraham prays boldly, most certainly. However, he stops short in his intercession. He stops at “if there are ten righteous people,” would you spare the city. God was most gracious to entertain Abraham’s prayer. In delighting to hear the prayer of his people, we find God preparing Abraham and his descendants for the reality of righteousness. Should Abraham had asked, “If there were one righteous person in the city, would you spare it, O Lord?” It seems plausible that God would have given the same reply, “If there is one, I will relent.” Nevertheless, the fate of Sodom would have been the same, for there were none righteous no, not even one (c.f., Romans 3:9-18).

So God answered Abraham’s prayer, but not the way Abraham had thought he intended. We often find ourselves praying boldly and yet without reference to the reality of the world as God has revealed it to us. God mercifully delivered Lot on account of His gracious promise to Abraham. On the basis of that promise, Abraham had prayed boldly and endured long in prayer for Lot (Genesis 19:29). So God delivered Lot, by means of Abraham’s intercession and “investment of love” to Lot.

Abraham’s intercession could not deliver the city, but it did deliver Lot, for the promise was to Abraham and his household, his family. This intercession ironically delivered Lot from the destruction of Sodom and in the subsequent portion of Genesis (19:30-38), Lot’s daughters defile their father by inebriating him in order to have sexual relations with him for the purpose of preserving his and their family line. It is at this point that we find Abraham’s intercession was at once efficacious in time and space and yet only imperfect and temporary. God had provided an intercessor for Lot in Abraham, and yet Abraham’s intercession looks forward to the Intercessor between God and Humanity, the Lord Jesus Christ, “the son of David, the son of Abraham” (Matthew 1:1). Christ intercedes eternally for his people, always and everywhere and never failing.

I would suggest to you the difference between Abraham and Christ is largely one of righteousness. Sodom is a picture that hits all too close to home. It is the City of Humanity, the city that is without any righteous citizenry. The Incarnation of God is the mystery in which the Lord in all his righteousness, makes himself poor, limiting himself to time and space in the person of Jesus of Nazareth — the singular righteous citizen who has ever lived. God would turn aside his wrath against sin for the righteousness of one man. That one man was not in Sodom, nor was he in Gomorrah. Where Abraham’s prayer of intercession failed to deliver the city, Christ’s righteous intercession remakes it, resulting in a New City. The Righteous One established the City of God and was exalted to reign over it. Instead of destroying the City of Humanity with wrath, it is invaded and transformed with Love, a far more potent offensive. The City of God is displacing and remaking the City of Humanity, making it truly human! God spared this city on the basis of one righteous man, Jesus Christ, who now perfectly and eternally intercedes for his citizens to whom he has bound himself with unbreakable bonds of love. It is on the basis of these unbreakable bonds of Love that we, as He, now intercede boldly in prayer before the throne of grace.