Notes on A review of Gregory S. Boyd, 2017, Cross vision: How the crucifixion of Jesus makes sense of Old Testament violence (Minneapolis: Fortress).

The problem

The book begins with a description of the horrible violence attributed to God in the Old Testament, and asks how this is compatible with the ministry of Jesus (ch 1). Jesus himself makes it clear that his ministry trumps anything in the Old Testament, and in the process he quite often breaks its rules, so it makes no sense to have a patchwork view of God that combines bits of the Old Testament with the New (ch 2). Jesus’ ministry was completely revolutionary, associating with the ‘wrong’ people, displaying utter love and totally rejecting coercion and violence. The New Testament announces that Jesus is the manifestation of God’s self-giving character as it is displayed on the cross, defeating the powers of evil and inviting us to follow in God’s cruciform love (ch 3).

Boyd’s solution

So how do we explain the seemingly warlike and bloodthirsty God of some Old Testament passages? In ch 4 Boyd compares the revelation of God’s character in Jesus to a surprise event at the end of a movie that reframes the whole Old Testament story and causes the audience to completely reinterpret its events. The cross provides a ‘cruciform’ perspective on the Old Testament which gives us an understanding quite different from the way its earliest readers understood it. From the outside, the crucifixion was horribly cruel and ugly. From the perspective of faith it is beautiful because it most perfectly displays the radiance of God’s self-sacrificial love (John 12:27–33), the uttermost love of a deity descending to the level of his fallen creatures and taking their sin upon himself.

Boyd says we must see the ugly representations of God in the Old Testament in a parallel way. They are outsiders’ perspectives, images shaped by the writers’ culturally conditioned and fallen conceptions of God, who descends to their level in accepting their depictions of him. Boyd asks why God might allow fallen and culturally conditioned humans to distort his inspiration of his written word. Well, says Boyd, ask yourself why God allowed human ugliness to perpetrate the crucifixion.

In both cases he allowed it because he created us with free will, because we can only love him and each other if we choose to, and we can only choose to love if we have the freedom to choose.¹ True love cannot be coerced. For this reason God always acts to reveal his true self as much as possible, but he is also always humbly willing to allow his people to act upon him such that he bears their sin.

Precursors of Boyd’s solution

Ch 5 is devoted to demonstrating that the theory set out in ch 4 is not as radical as it sounds. Luther had an avowedly cruciform view of scripture.² The gospel writers read the Old Testament as revelation that looked forward to Jesus. There has been a longstanding view in the church that God adapted his revelation to human cultural and cognitive limitations. A position resembling Boyd’s is found in writings of the early church fathers, e.g. Novatian (c. 200–258). Many theologians have maintained that God’s self-revelation in the scriptures was progressive. This goes back at least to Gregory of Nazianzus (c. 329–390), who argued that God allowed aspects of his people’s fallen culture to mediate his self-revelation so that they would be able to receive it.

Boyd argues, nonetheless, that he is committed to the ‘Conservative Hermeneutical Principle’ whereby, for example, he accepts the historicity of the Flood³ and its interpretation as God’s judgment, but rejects the thought that God was its agent as this is at odds with the character of God revealed in Jesus.

Until Constantine and the declaration of Christianity as the official religion of the Roman Empire in 313, the church followed Jesus in teaching non-violence. This changed when Constantine attributed his victory in battle to his army’s fighting under the banner of Christ, and the Old Testament images of a warrior God became less problematic for many Christians.

God’s accommodation to the Israelites

The theme of ch 6 is that God accommodated the fallen beliefs of the Israelites and their ancient Near Eastern cultural practices. Boyd names four areas in which this occurred.

First, marriage: God appeared to condone polygamy, despite his statement about marriage in Genesis 2:22–25.

Second, human kingship: the Israelites rejected divine kingship in favour of a Near Eastern human king (1 Samuel 8:7) and God blessed these kings even though they were not his first choice.

Third, Near Eastern-style animal sacrifice with its awful practices (Lev 1:14–17), which God used to increase the Israelites’ loyalty to him, to teach them the need for repentance, and to prepare the way for himself becoming the sacrifice that was offered up on behalf of Israel and the world. Later Old Testament writers understood that these practices were not God’s preference (Hosea 6:6, Isaiah 1:11-13; cf Heb 10:2, 8).

Finally, the entire Mosaic law was a response to the Israelites’ unfaithfulness while Moses was on Mount Sinai, and even the Ten Commandments accommodate Near Eastern patriarchism: a man must not covet a neighbour’s property, and this includes the neighbour’s wife. Evidence of this accommodation is found in the New Testament in Jesus’ words about marriage (Matthew 19:8–9), in Paul’s claim that the law only serves to increase our sin and condemn us (Rom 5:20; 7:5, 8–9; 1 Cor 15:56) and that ‘Scripture foresaw that God would justify the Gentiles by faith’ (Galatians 3:8; cf 3:23-24). He taught that the law was a mere ‘shadow of the things that were to come,’ for ‘the reality . . . is found in Christ’ (Col 2:16; cf Heb 10:1). Being accommodation, the law ultimately couldn’t work, and Jeremiah (32:38-40) and Ezekiel (36:26ff) prophesy a better covenant. But if there was something amiss with the law-oriented covenant, then there was also something amiss with the image of a law-oriented God, an image corrected by the revelation of his true character in Jesus (John 1:17) ‘at just the right time’ (Romans 5:6).

Boyd writes,

As barbaric as many of the OT laws are, most reflect . . . a significant improvement, over the laws of Israel’s neighbors, and this surely is the result of the influential work of God’s Spirit. But insofar as any law falls short of the character of God revealed in Jesus’s cross-centered ministry, it reflects the point at which the fallen and culturally conditioned state of his people resisted the Spirit and, therefore, the point at which God stooped to allow his people to act upon him.

The point behind all this is that God will not coerce people into having a true conception of him. Boyd writes,

fidelity to Christ compels me to see [the accounts of this accommodating activity] not as an accurate depiction of something God actually did, but as a reflection of something God’s people at the time assumed God did.

Making God in one’s own image

In ch 7 Boyd looks at role of the observer in the way one conceives God and remarks, ‘the way God appears to people says at least as much about them as it does about God,’ a point made in a curious passage from David’s song in 2 Samuel 22:26-27:

To the faithful you show yourself faithful,

to the blameless you show yourself blameless,

to the pure you show yourself pure,

but to the devious you show yourself shrewd.

In the midst of trying to persuade Pharaoh to let the Israelites go, Aaron makes a curious remark: “The God of the Hebrews has met with us. Now let us take a three-day journey into the wilderness to offer sac

rifices to the Lord our God, or he may strike us with plagues or with the sword” (Exod 5:3, emphasis added). Aaron has no evidence for this: it is pure assumption.

The Pharisees had studied Scripture diligently, but could not comprehend that it pointed to Jesus (John 5:39-49), because, Jesus said, they did “not have the love of God in [their] hearts” (John 5:42). They couldn’t hear what Jesus was saying (John 8:43). When Jesus said that ‘this temple’ would be destroyed and raised up again after three days, his disciples did not understand him until after the resurrection (John 2:19–22). He told his disciples that, while he had more to say to them, they already had “more than you can now bear” (John 16:12)., Jesus spoke in parables to the masses, giving them only “as much as they could understand.” But when he was alone with his disciples, “he explained everything” (Mark 4:33–34). Both Paul and the author of Hebrews distinguished between easily digestible teachings (“ milk”) and more difficult teachings (“meat”) that only for those who were spiritually more mature could take in (1 Cor 3:1–2; Heb 5:11–14). Paul says we still “see only a reflection as in a mirror” (1 Cor 13:12).

We tend to make God in our own image. Men crave power, and sometimes take it by force, so God is made into a ruler who employs violence. Paul’s definition of the power of God as the self-sacrificial love revealed on the cross (1 Cor 1: 18, 30) comes as a total surprise.

When God broke through

There are places in the Old Testament where God breaks through to the writer. God’s peace-loving character comes through in Isaiah 11, where he dreams of a time when his creation will be free of violence. “The wolf will live with the lamb,” Isaiah prophesies, and “the leopard will lie down with the goat.” In Micah 4:3, the Lord expresses his dream that someday people

will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.

Psalm 46:9 declares that God

. . . makes wars cease to the ends of the earth.

He breaks the bow and shatters the spear;

he burns the shields with fire.

Ps 146:3, 5 enjoins the Israelites

Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save. . . . Blessed are those whose help is the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord their God.

Ch 8 is headed by a quotation from Origen.

If those things that are dimly sketched through Moses concerning the tabernacle or the sacrifices . . . are said to be a “type and shadow of heavenly things” (Heb : 5), doubtless the wars that are waged through [Joshua] and the slaughter of kings and enemies must also be said to be “a shadow and type of heavenly things . . .” —Origen, Homilies on Joshua, 12.1.

Seeing Yahweh as a Near Eastern god

Ch 8 sees Old Testament writers sometimes attributing to Yahweh the character and behaviour of an Ancient Near Eastern national god. One attribute is located in the ‘conflict-with-chaos’ motif, whereby one of the god’s tasks is to hold back the threatening waters that surround the earth (Day 1982, 2000; Batto 1992). This appears in several psalms (Psalms 29:3; 77:16; 93:3–4; 104:7). Similarly it was Yahweh who set the bounds of these waters (Psalms 33:7; 104:8–11, 16; Proverbs 8:29; Job 38:8–11). Ancient Near Eastern peoples often saw these cosmic forces as monsters, especially sea monsters with names such as “Leviathan,” “Rahab,” and “Behemoth.” (Job 3:8; 9:13; 26:12; 40:15–24; 41:1–34; Palms. 74:14; 89:10; Isaiah 27:1; 30:7; 51:9). (Job 38:8–11; Ps 74:13–17).

Some passages depict God battling a cosmic monster in order to create the world (Job 38:8–11; Ps 74:13–17). Israel’s enemies are sometimes seen as sea monsters. In Isaiah 27:1 Egypt’s future defeat is shown as the slaying of a sea monster (Levenson 1988:27). Similar identifications are made in Isaiah 30:7; 51:9–11, Jeremiah 51:34, Psalms 18:16; 69:1–2, 14–15; 87:4; 124:4; 144:7. For Ancient Near Eastern peoples there was no division between sacred and secular (Walton 2006:87), and the national god is conceived as marching above the nation’s army against the spiritual forces of the enemy army (2 Sam 5:24). This was also true of Israel (Goldingay 1987:162–63). Yahweh is conceived as a national god in Judges 11:24.⁴ Each Ancient Near Eastern people believed that its chief warrior god lived on top of a sacred mountain (Psalm 3:4, 24:3-4, 48:1–3) from which he descends to go to wat (Psalm 48:4–8). Zechariah (14:3–4) sees God as a warrior standing on the Mount of Olives about to fight the nations. Ancient Near Eastern peoples pictured their god as riding on storm clouds and throwing lightning bolts as arrows (Clifford 1972; Smith, 1952, 1990), and we find this imagery in the Old Testament (Deuteronomy 32:23; Psalms 7:13; 18:14; 64:7; 77:17; 144:6; Hab 3:9, 11). Psalm 18 is particularly laden with it.

Boyd views these images not as telling us about God but as telling us something about the Israelites and how they perceived their God Yahweh. Indeed, through the cross-shaped lens, we see a God who is fighting against evil forces which the New Testament names in other ways. But we also see a God willing to take upon himself the ugliness of his people’s sin.

The atonement

Boyd rejects the thought that God resorts to violence when he judges sin (ch 9). He argues that it was human, not divine, violence that put Jesus on the cross. He rejects the doctrine of penal substitution whereby God vented his wrath on Jesus instead of on us, among other things because it

restricts salvation to Jesus’s death on the cross, thereby rendering the rest of his life and ministry superfluous in terms of the way Jesus reconciles us to God. . . By contrast, I have argued (ch. 3) that the self-sacrificial love that was expressed on the cross weaves together and supremely expresses everything Jesus was about. His whole cross-centered life, from the incarnation to the ascension, reveals God, defeats evil, eradicates the condemnation of sin, reconciles us to God, and restores creation.

Further, penal substitution does not explain how our guilt could be transferred to Jesus or how this could be just. ‘Forgiveness’, Boyd writes, ‘means releasing a debt, not collecting it from someone else!’

Sadly, this myth of redemptive violence became central to church doctrine in the eleventh century, with half a millennium of disastrous results.

Until the eleventh century most Christians had believed that Jesus died to save them from Satan’s anger, not God’s (this is the Christus victor view). The only thing God did when Jesus was on the cross was to withhold his protection so that those ‘bent on destruction’ (Isaiah 51:13) could do what they wanted to do (Acts 2:23; 4:28). He handed Jesus over (Rom 4:25, 8:32), as Jesus himself had predicted (Matt 20:18; 26:2; Mark 10:33; Luke 18:32; 24:7), to ‘bear the full weight of the world’s sin and the full terror of the God-forsaken curse that comes with it.’ This was the cause of Jesus’ cry of desolation, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matt 27:46).

. . . God experienced his own antithesis. He was subjected to the total opposite of the perfect love that is his very essence, and we can be confident that the agony it brought Jesus is beyond anything we could possibly fathom. This divine abandonment was the cup of God’s wrath from which Jesus freely chose to drink (Mark 14:36). In choosing to drink from this cup, Jesus suffered the death-consequences of sin, which included the curse of being separated from God. This is the wrath that Jesus experienced, and it involved no anger or violence on God’s part.

God is full of grief when he sees that he must turn people over to the consequences of their sin. Jesus wept as he prophesied that Jerusalem would be handed over to the Romans because of its people’s persistent sin (Luke 19:41–44; Matthew 23:38: cf Jeremiah 48:31; Micah 1:8; Hosea 4:17, 11:8).

Jesus cried out: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were not willing” (Matt 23:36–37).

Jesus’ grief is God’s grief. Old Testament pictures of God in a bloodthirsty rage echo Ancient Near Eastern warrior gods like the Ugaritic Anat, and reflect the fact that, although God inspired the writers, he allowed the ugly depictions that arose their from cultural expectations.

God’s judgment is thus not something he inflicts. Fallen creatures bring it upon themselves. Paul tells us that, had Satan and the fallen powers⁵ who currently rule the world understood ‘God’s wisdom,’ they ‘would not have crucified the Lord of glory’ (1 Cor 2:7–8).

For it is by means of the crucifixion, which they helped orchestrate, that they are being reduced “to nothing” (1 Cor 2:6). As we read in Colossians, by means of the cross, God “disarmed the powers and authorities” and “made a public spectacle of them” (Col 2:15). . . and “the prince of this world” was “driven out” (John 12:31).

Ch 10 follows up on the argument that divine punishment is not judicial (independent of the crime) but organic (arising out of the crime itself). In the Old Testament it means separation from God (Deut 32:20; 2 Chr 22:5; Ps 13:1; 27:9; 44:24; 69:17; 88:14; 102:2; 143:7; Jer 33:5), the source of everything good and of protection. God only needs to “hide his face” for sinners to come to judgment (Deut 31:17-18). There are numerous Old Testament passages that tell us that people experience the consequences of their own sin (Jer 6:19; 17:10; Hos 10:13; Proverbs 5:22; 8:36; 11:5; 21:7; 22:8; 26:27.). Psalm 7:14-16 has God acting as a warrior, but then

Those who are pregnant with evil conceive trouble and give birth to disillusionment. . . The trouble they cause recoils on them; their violence comes down on their own heads.

Boyd sees this as an instance of the Holy Spirit breaking through the writer’s warrior imagery.

The idea that God leaves people to suffer the consequences of their own sin is enacted by Jesus. If people didn’t want him around, he simply left (Matt 8:34–9:1; 12:14–15; cf. Mark 3:6–7; John 8:58–59). It grieved him if they didn’t want to follow him, but he granted their wish and let them go (Mark 10:21–22; John 6:60–61, 66). Jesus’s prophecy that the Temple would become “desolate” describes it as a place that has been vacated, an image confirmed between 66 and 70 AD when the Romans responded to a Jewish rebellion by sacking Jerusalem, and destroying the Temple (Matt 23:34–39).

Paul describes the “wrath of God” that is “being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of human beings who suppress the truth by their wickedness” (Romans 1:18). However this wrath is realised as God giving people over to their own sin and to a depraved mind—people who reject him and worship idols and exchange the truth about God for their shameful lusts (Romans 1:21-28).

James (1:14–15) also understands the organic relationship between sin and death.

God withdraws his protection

In Ch 11 Boyd continues the theme of God judging people by leaving them, but suggests that in doing this he withdraws the protection which might have prevented them continuing on a path of self-destruction.

Jeremiah (13:14) depicts Yahweh as declaring, “I will smash them one against the other, parents and children alike. . . I will allow no pity or mercy or compassion to keep me from destroying them” (Jer 13:14, emphasis added). Boyd suggests this is what Jeremiah heard God say, in line with his expectations, but God was actually saying with a grieving heart, “I will judge Judah, and families are going to be mercilessly smashed together.” The agent in all this would be Nebuchadnezzar, not God, who had simply withdrawn his protection. Jeremiah later has God saying, “I will hide my face from this city” (Jer 33:5).

In Lamentations Jeremiah’s vision is so clouded that he describes how God “swallowed up all the dwellings of Jacob” like the Ugaritic goddess Anat (2:2, 5), then claims that God caused everyone to starve so that mothers ate their children (2:20; cf. 4:4–10). He depicts Yahweh along the lines of the arrow-shooting Canaanite god, Resheph, and accuses him of shooting at Judah (Lam 3:12-13). Almost simultaneously, however, Jeremiah realises that God’s judgment is exercised through withdrawal: he has “abandoned his sanctuary” (2:7).

Ezekiel shows Yahweh promising the people of Judah: “I will pour out my wrath on you and breathe out my fiery anger against you” (Ezek 21:31a). This is the imagery of a fire-breathing dragon, yet it becomes clear that he has only withdrawn his protection: “I will deliver you into the hands of brutal men, men skilled in destruction” (21:31b).

We will only see through this if we read it through the vision of the crucified Christ.

What we see in the Old Testament is ‘the truth that Yahweh is a humble sin-bearing God and that God brings about judgments by withdrawing his restraining Spirit to allow sin to punish sin and evil to vanquish evil.’ But, says Boyd in ch 11, there is more to it. The cross is depicted as the decisive event in the age-old cosmic war between God and Satan, and this is also the back story behind the Old Testament. Paul depicts the world as ruled by an evil being (Gal 1:4; Eph 5:6), a picture confirmed by Satan himself at Jesus’ temptation (Luke 4:5–6; Matt 4:8–9). Paul labels Satan “the god of this world” (2 Cor 4:4) and “the ruler of the power of the air” (Eph 2:2).⁶ Jesus labelled him “the ruler of this world”. John claims that “the whole world is under the control of the evil one” (1 John 5:19).

Boyd argues (ch 12) that the mythical evil beings of the Old Testament should be equated with the principalities and powers of the New, and that God exercises his judgment by removing his hand of protection and letting them do their worst.⁷ He emphasises that, unreal though these mythic beings may seem to us, the realities they represent are not.

Boyd (2001) attributes ‘natural evil’, i.e. natural disasters, to the work of Satan and his minions. When God seemingly judges through these disasters (ch 13), he removes his protection from those who are judged: Satan does the rest.

Boyd points out that in Israelite thinking everything was seen as related to everything else. Thus when human beings sin—they to whom God has entrusted the earth—then the land and animals suffer too (Gen 3:17–19; Jer 4:24–25; 9:9–10; 23:10; Isaiah 24; Psalm 72; Hos 4:1–3; Joel 1:8–10). Conversely, when human beings are reconciled to God, the land and the animal world will be healed (Isa 11:6–9; 32:15–16; 35:1–2, 6; 41:18–19; 51:3; 65:25), a theme continued by Paul (Romans 8:19, Colossians 1:20). The Flood is just such a case of judgment: God’s merciful restraints were removed. In other Ancient Near Eastern literature, the flood was caused by God’s annoyance or anger, but in Genesis 6:6 we see God’s grief that human beings are behaving so badly.

In ch 14 Boyd discusses the crossing of the Red Sea. Through the lens of the cross, we know that God must have loved the Egyptian firstborn whom the destroyer had killed and the soldiers who were drowned. We see that it was not God who killed them, but the forces of evil when God lifted his hand of protection from them. These forces are here represented by the waters and the sea monster (Isaiah 51:9–10 ). A number of scholars (e.g. Kloos 1986, Batto 1992) regard the Red Sea story as a continuation of God’s creation battle with the anti-creational forces of water. Boyd then asks what happened here historically, and answers that he doesn’t know, and that it doesn’t matter: what matters is the biblical narrative and its meaning. Just as on the cross, God used evil to vanquish evil.

Misusing God-given power

Ch 15 concerns four Old Testament characters who, according to Boyd, misused power given them by God. One was Moses, who struck his miraculous staff against a rock in anger, incurring God’s displeasure (Numbers 20:11). Another was Elijah, who out of fear twice had fire fall from heaven to destroy Samaritan messengers sent my King Ahaziah (2 Kings 1:10–12).⁸ Jesus much later scolded his disciples for wanting to do something similar (Luke 7:51–56). A third character was Elisha, who reacted to some young men who called him names by cursing them, so that they were mauled by two bears that emerged from the forest (2 Kings 2:23–24). The last character was Samson (Judges 14–16). Boyd canvasses the likelihood that what the character unleashed was not God’s power but the power of evil.

These stories all raise the question, Does God give human beings this kind of power in a way that can result in its misuse? Boyd draws his answer from 1 Corinthians 14:32–33, 40, where people exercising the gifts of the Spirit in a Christian assembly are instructed to do so in an orderly manner.

Conclusion: Abraham and Isaac

The argument of the final chapter is rather different. It concerns God’s command to Abraham to sacrifice his son Isaac, through whom, God had promised, Abraham would become the father of nations. Child sacrifice was part of the religion of other Ancient Near Eastern peoples, and the OT itself indicates that the Israelites were constantly pulled towards it (2 Kgs 16:3; 17:17; 21:6; 2 Chron 28:1–4; Jer 7:31; 32:35; Ezek 20:31; Ps 106:37). Its very prohibition suggests it was an ongoing temptation (Lev 18:21; Deut 12:31; 18:10). It was thus no surprise to Abraham when Yahweh gave him the horrific command to sacrifice his firstborn. Boyd argues that, unlike the cases he has previously analysed, the writer in this case did not have a clouded vision of God. On the contrary, here Yahweh accommodated to the commonness of child sacrifice in order not just to test Abraham’s faith, but by pushing him to the edge to teach him that ‘receiving God’s promises comes by faith alone, apart from all human striving’ and to crush any remaining traces of pagan thought. He was ‘a God who not only did not require child sacrifice, he provides the sacrifice’ (emphases original).

References

Batto, B., 1992. Slaying the dragon: Mythmaking in the biblical tradition. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press.

Boyd, Gregory S., 2001. Satan and the problem of evil: Constructing a trinitarian warfare theodicy. Downers Grove IL: IVP Academic.

Boyd, Gregory S., 2017. The crucifixion of the warrior God: Interpreting the Old Testament’s violent portraits of God in light of the Cross. 2 volumes, Minneapolis: Fortress Press.

Clifford, R. J., 1972. The cosmic mountain in Canaan and the Old Testament. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.

Day, J. 1985. God’s conflict with the dragon and the sea: Echoes of a Canaanite myth in the old testament. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Day, J., 2000. Yahweh and the gods and goddesses of Canaan. Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press.

Goldingay, John, 1987. Theological diversity and the authority of the Old Testament. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans.

Kloos, C., 1986. Yhwh’s combat with the sea: A Canaanite tradition in the religion of ancient Israel, Leiden: Brill.

Levenson, J. 1988. Creation and the persistence of evil: The Jewish drama of divine omnipotence. San Francisco: Harper & Row.

Origen, Homilies on Joshua, trans. B. Bruce, ed. C. White, Fathers of the Church 105. Washington DC: Catholic University of America Press, 2002, 12.1.

Smith, M. 1952. The Common Theology of the Ancient Near East. Journal of Biblical Literature 71:3:135–47.

Smith, M. S., 1990. The early history of God: Yahweh and the other deities in ancient Israel. San Francisco: Harper & Row.

Walton, J. H., 2006. Ancient Near Eastern thought and the Old Testament: Introducing the conceptual world of the Hebrew Bible. Grand Rapids: Baker Academic.