A ‘Sweet’ Shoutout on a Subsection of My Dissertation

More than anyone else, Dr. Leonard Sweet has taught me how to think in pictures, especially with regard to the biblical storyline. Truth be told, he’s taught me how to look at all of life that way, too, and I am grateful for it. That’s how children start out their lives. They see images before they see texts. They imagine real things before they ponder invisible abstractions. (Do you see the word “image” inside the word “imagination”?)

Quite significantly, that’s how grownups dream, too—not in propositions but in pictures. One might say that visuality is viscerality when it comes to being human. It’s part and parcel of who we are as creatures made in the image of God.

That’s one of the reasons I love science; it’s really the study of God’s imagination, which comes into existence as a creation we can see and touch. With true cosmic genius, the Lord has surrounded us with terrestrial and celestial treasures, often causing our mouths to fall open in wonder. Whether we look through the telescope or the microscope, we see incredible images. Things. Pictures. Marvels. And all of them tell a story of their maker.

For our sake, God tends to be tactile, though he himself is intangible. He is “high and lifted up,” yet “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” People touched him and heard him say, “If you’ve seen me, you’ve seen the Father.” Jesus is “God with us” all the way down.

Knowing the impact Len’s teaching had on a specific subsection of my dissertation, I shared it with him a few months ago to get his feedback. A PDF of that segment is provided below should you be interested in reading it. It’s far too pedantic, but that’s because it’s an exegetical dissertation, which is just the nature of the beast.

Len did a great job distilling its essence and translating the most important parts of it for all of us. He’s still the boss when it comes to inspiring and edifying through imagery. The subsection is called “The Veil as a Garment of God.” Len writes:

My colleague Tim Valentino just blew my mind with this: the temple was never only architecture—it was anatomy. Not just structure, but story. Not just stone, but skin.

In his work on the semiotics of the Temple, Tim shows how the Bible doesn’t merely describe the tabernacle as a building—it describes it like a body. The text speaks of a “head” (rosh), “face” (paneh), “rib” (tsela), “shoulder” (katef), and even “hands/fingers” (yadot).

And the veil? It functions like a sacred garment, shielding God’s radiant presence—just as Moses once wore a veil after meeting with God.

Here’s the breathtaking part: when the temple veil was torn at Christ’s crucifixion, it wasn’t just fabric ripping. Tim suggests it was like God’s own garment being torn in grief, echoing the ancient act of rending clothes in mourning. That moment becomes a divine lament over the death of His Son—and a new opening into God’s presence.

Suddenly, New Testament images of our bodies as temples and even the puzzling line in Hebrews about Christ’s body being the curtain (Hebrews 10:20) come alive.

For anyone still doubting the importance of semiotics to understanding Scripture and culture, let me say this again: God has been speaking through patterns, symbols, and metaphors all along—if we train our eyes (and hearts) to see them.

Thanks, Len, for helping me learn how to use the right side of my brain. To use only the left side is to be half human … and only half as effective in communicating the beauty, truth, and goodness of God in Scripture.

I used to have the privilege of teaching with Len in the Doctor of Theology program at Kairos Evangelical Seminary, and I miss getting to do that. Maybe someday we’ll be able to reunite in the classroom. But right now, the research and writing call for lots of focus. And thinking in pictures.

Dr. Sweet can be found online in numerous places. If my math is correct, he has published over 70 books by now.

Songs of Light

My apologies for the sparse postings lately. My Advent reflections usually make their way into print this time of year, but my mother-in-law has declined so much in recent weeks that other things have had to take priority. She eats and drinks very little anymore, and she no longer wishes to get out of bed. Her earthly journey seems to be coming to an end, sooner rather than later.

One resource we’ve found helpful these days is a brief trilogy by Len Sweet, a professor I’ve gotten to teach doctoral courses with over the past five years. They consist of comforting words of God’s goodness and grace that can be read to loved ones at various stages of physical and emotional decline. The three titles are:

Songs of Light: Words of Grace to Read Aloud with Those at Life’s End

Songs of Light: Words of Hope to Read Aloud with Those in Critical Condition

Songs of Light: Words of Life to Read Aloud with Those in Deep Despair

This has been a tough road to walk, but God has been faithful to us in the Advent-ure. The gospel of Jesus Christ shines so brightly in times like these.

Born to raise the sons of earth
Born to give them second birth

Speaking of Advent, I hope to get the resources posted later today for Part 2 of our “Fear Not” series.

Be bold. Be strong. For the Lord our God is with us.

Oh, My Word, Part 2: A Few Thoughts on Word-ology

God the Father inscribed the Ten Commandments on tablets of stone. God the Son wrote in the dirt while preparing to respond to a thorny question about law and grace. God the Holy Spirit inspired the apostles, prophets, and evangelists to write sacred Scripture. Indeed, each member of the Holy Trinity revealed divine truth to human beings using human language, the currency of which is words. Moreover, heaven’s ultimate revelation, Jesus Christ, is called ὁ λόγος, “the Word” (John 1:1). 

In his book Lit! A Christian Guide to Reading Books, Tony Reinke notes how Christianity is a Word-centered faith, which stands in sharp contrast to ancient Near Eastern religions—faith systems that typically focused on visual representations of the deities through idols.[1] Contrary to these image-based religions, he argues, Christians are a people of books, texts, and words, a reality that has deep implications for not only what we learn about God and his world but also how we learn it: 

“Words are a more precise way of communicating the meaning behind the images of our world. . . . What is real extends far deeper than what we can see. Our holy God is real. . . . Our Savior is real. Heaven is real. Angels are real. But for now these realities are invisible.”[2] The author of Hebrews might agree with Reinke, at least to a point (cf. 11:1-2).

On the other hand, Dr. Leonard Sweet, with whom I teach on a weekly basis, would bristle at the claim. Sweet thinks it’s high time for the church to emphasize images, metaphors, and stories again. Word-centeredness, he contends, is a product of the enlightenment and modernism. The postmodernism era needs a more image-based approach if believers are to be effective in communicating the gospel in our day.[3] He may be on to something. 

In our visually saturated culture today, the church (and the world) might be well served by God’s people recapturing some of the artistic passion we lost in the Reformation period. Ironically, though, Sweet makes his case for this approach while using words, a point even he is happy to concede. In class he once showed a few story-based commercials lacking anything verbal—until the very end when the company tag line appeared on the screen. “The story always ends with words,” he admitted.[4]

Doctoral programs end with words, too—a lot of them—all carefully poured into a document we call the dissertation. They also feature spirited online interactions and residency conversations by students with vastly different backgrounds and viewpoints. We do well, then, to remember Proverbs 18:21a, which says, “The tongue has the power of life and death.” The word “tongue” here is a metonymy for “words.” The proverb teaches that words have the power of life and death. 

With our words we can unleash quarrels and traumatize people’s hearts. We can hurt people’s feelings and multiply their insecurities. We can consternate people and plunge them into despair. We can mislead people into danger and thrust them into war. Words have the power to kill. 

On the other hand, with our words we can motivate people toward deeper thinking and loftier accomplishments. We can help heal the damage done to their wounded souls and restore their faith in God. We can share the good news of Jesus Christ and lead them to find peace in a chaotic world. We can talk them up from the emotional pits they’re in and talk them down from the suicidal ledges they’re on. Words have the power to give life. 

While divine words can bring life into existence out of nothing, human words can bring life into existence out of people’s brokenness. It’s a privilege entrusted to every person of faith. How are we doing in this regard?

If an inventory of your words leaves you feeling down, just find someone to whom you can speak life this day. The journey of a thousand conversations begins with the first word. Make it a good one!

Image Credits: catholic.com; iStock.com.


[1] Tony Reinke, Lit! A Christian Guide to Reading Books (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2011), 40-42.

[2] Ibid., 45.

[3]Leonard Sweet, “Envisioning the 22nd Century,” classroom lecture notes, CT80—Explorations in Doctoral Reading and Research (Myerstown, PA: Evangelical Seminary, Fall 2018), photocopy.

[4]Ibid.