We apply the story, then, as a lesson about willful rebellion and repentance. The boy is guilty, morally, of disrespecting his father and squandering his inheritance. He must now ask for forgiveness.

Christians in other parts of the world understand the story differently. In cultures more familiar with famine, like Russia, readers consider the boy’s spending less important than the famine. The application of the story has less to do with willful rebellion and more to do with God’s faithfulness to deliver his people from hopeless situations. The boy’s problem is not that he is wasteful but that he is lost.

we more often associate immorality with poverty. This is due, in part, to how Westerners understand wealth.

Westerners instinctively consider wealth an unlimited resource. There’s more than enough to go around, we believe. Everyone could be wealthy if they only tried hard enough. So if you don’t have all the money you want, it’s because you lack the virtues required for success—industry, frugality and determination.

There appears to have been a trend from very early in American thought to invert Paul’s proverb “If a man will not work, he shall not eat” (2 Thess 3:10 NIV 1984) to read, “If a man can’t eat, it is because he doesn’t work.” People know what they need to do to make money, we think, so if they’re poor, they must deserve it.

This understanding of wealth is the very opposite of how many non-Western cultures view it. Outside the West, wealth is often viewed as a limited resource. There is only so much money to be had, so if one person has a lot of it, then everyone else has less to divide among themselves. If you make your slice of pie larger, then my slice is now smaller. In those cultures, folks are more likely to consider the accumulation of wealth to be immoral, since you can only become wealthy if other people become poor. Psalm 52:7 describes the wicked man who “trusted in his great wealth and grew strong by destroying others!” In our Western mind, this man demonstrated his wickedness in two ways: he trusted in wealth and he destroyed others. Yet the psalmist considers these to be one action. This is a type of Hebrew poetry scholars call synonymous parallelism, in which the two clauses say the same idea with different wording. In other words, hoarding and trusting in wealth was destroying others.

More significantly, Westerners often assume that the wickedness in “trusting in great wealth” has nothing to do with the wealth but solely with placing our faith in wealth instead of God’s faithful provision. The psalmist implies something different. The wicked person, we’re told, piles up more wealth than he or she needs. In the ancient world, there were always those in need (according to Jesus, there always will be; Mt 26:11). The condemnation came not in accumulating wealth but in piling up “great wealth.” Only a wicked person would continue to pile up “great wealth” and so destroy others.

In the New Testament, for example, the word charis means “grace.” Pistis means “faith.” What we didn’t know until recently—what went without being said in Paul’s day—was that those two words together described the relationship between a patron and his or her client.

The Whole Is More than the Sum of the Parts Page 82

In the Roman world of the New Testament, business was conducted through an elaborate system of patrons and clients. When we watch the movie The Godfather, we are seeing the modern remains of the ancient Roman patronage system. Like Marlon Brando who played the godfather in the movie, the ancient patron was a wealthy and powerful individual (male or female) who looked after his or her “friends” (clients). The complex world of Roman governmental bureaucracy, the far-reaching tentacles of the banking system (usually temples) and the pervasive and powerful grasp of the trade guilds made it impossible for ordinary craftspeople or farmers to conduct business on their own. They were entirely dependent upon their patrons.

The Whole Is More than the Sum of the Parts Page 82

Like most unwritten cultural rules, everyone knew what was expected of a patron and a client, even though expectations weren’t engraved on a wall. Everyone knew a patron’s role was to solve problems for his or her clients, whether it was trouble with the local trade guilds, refinancing a loan or smoothing over tensions with city leaders. When Paul was staying in Thessalonica, it was reasonable to expect Jason to handle the “Paul problem,” which he did by asking Paul to leave town (Acts 17).

The Whole Is More than the Sum of the Parts Page 82

In that world, an ordinary craftsman or farmer didn’t have the social skills or connections or wealth to negotiate with the various powerbrokers of a city. He would seek out an individual, a patron, to help.

The Whole Is More than the Sum of the Parts Pages 82–83

Both sides understand the agreement: the godfather solves the problem, and the merchant now must be loyal to the godfather and be ready to help if he is ever summoned. In the Roman system, likewise, the client couldn’t earn the “favor”; the patron showed “kindness” to help. Seneca, a philosopher from Paul’s time, said the patron and the client had a relationship, a form of friendship. The client was now a “friend” of the patron, but not a peer. The client was expected to reciprocate with loyalty, public praise, readiness to help the patron (as much as he could) and, most importantly, gratitude.7

The Whole Is More than the Sum of the Parts Page 83

This kind gift had strings attached. (All gifts in antiquity had strings attached.) Seneca called it “a sacred bond.”9 The recipient of the gift was obligated to reciprocate. Paul introduced Lydia to Christianity (Acts 16). She reciprocated by hosting Paul and his team at her estate.

The Whole Is More than the Sum of the Parts Page 83

The language of patronage permeated everyday life. We know well the Christian terms grace and faith, but these were common before Paul used them. They were part of the language of patronage. When the patron gave unmerited gifts of assistance, these were commonly called charis, meaning “grace/gift.” The client responded with faithfulness to the patron, called pistis, or “faith.” We see that when Paul explained our new relationship with God, he used something everyone understood: the ancient system of patronage.12 Taken together, this vocabulary—so central to the Christian faith—means something different than the sum of its parts.

Understanding the preeminence of relationships in the first century has profound implications for how we Westerners interpret the Bible. Instinctively prioritizing rules over relationships can lead us to misunderstand some of Paul’s actions and motives. It may even cause us to misunderstand his gospel of salvation by grace through faith.

Rules Define Relationships Page 164

First, the patron-client relationship may have been a major challenge for Paul. How could Paul accept gifts, for example, without becoming someone’s client? It appears that on several occasions Paul did not want to depend upon gifts from the church in Corinth because of the massive influence a patron could exert. So he earned his own living instead (1 Cor 4:12; 9:6). When Paul was later under arrest and unable to work, he had to depend upon gifts, including gifts from the church in Philippi. But all ancient gifts came with strings attached. It was tricky. To refuse the gift (and thus the offer of friendship) was rude. The strings-attached nature of patronage may explain why Paul’s letter to the Philippians appears to be a thankless thank-you letter.

Rules Define Relationships Pages 164–165

If he accepted the gift, Paul would become the client. As a client, Paul would be expected to come to Philippi whenever his patron needed him. Paul was constantly on the move. He knew his calling involved relocating to new mission fields. And he had his sights set on Rome. He couldn’t drop everything to respond to the summons of a patron. Yet to refuse to come would make Paul ill-mannered, or worse, ungrateful—a cardinal sin in the ancient world.

Rules Define Relationships Page 165

The Philippians would have expected Paul to mention their grace-gift (charis) in his letter. And he does. But he reinterprets the gift as an offering to God, not to himself (Phil 4:18). He says the Philippians share in God’s grace-gift with Paul. The gift has strings, no doubt. But now the relationship strings are attached to God. If the Philippians later have “a need,” they were to look to Paul’s God—not to Paul—to meet their needs (Phil 4:19). Thus God remains Paul’s only patron (Phil 4:13). Paul’s profits and losses are connected to his sole benefactor (Phil 3:7–8).

Rules Define Relationships Page 165

Now Paul wasn’t opposed to the patronage system; he probably couldn’t imagine a world without it. He just didn’t want to become entangled with the Philippians. At the same time, Paul was not opposed to gifts having strings attached. On another occasion Paul tries to use those same strings to tie the Jerusalem mother-church to his Gentile churches. Paul gathered up funds from his churches for the poor saints in Jerusalem. He talks about it for two chapters in 2 Corinthians (chapters 8 and 9). His zinger comes at the end: “Because of the service by which you have proved yourselves, others will praise God for the obedience that accompanies your confession of the gospel of Christ, and for your generosity in sharing with them and with everyone else.

Rules Define Relationships Page 165

Their generous gift would tie the hearts of Jewish Christians in Jerusalem, who needed the gift, to Gentile Christians, who had given generously.

Rules Define Relationships Pages 165–166

Because it was impossible to escape the patronage system, Paul worked within it, even in his explanation of the Christian message of salvation. Patronage had its own vocabulary. Words we usually consider particularly Christian terms—grace and faith—were common parlance before Paul commandeered them.

Rules Define Relationships Page 166

The undeserved gifts of assistance the patron offered were commonly called charis (“grace” and “gift”). The loyalty the client offered the patron in response was called pistis (“faith” and “faithfulness”). Roman philosophers noted that when one received a god’s favor (charis), one should respond with love, joy and hope. When Paul sought to explain the Christian’s new relationship with God, then, one of the ways he did so was in terms of the ancient system of patronage—something everyone understood. In other words, it went without being said that relationship is the premier and determinative aspect of charis, grace.

when it comes to formal dialogue, or talking about things we consider important (God, for example), English speakers tend to privilege clear, propositional language over colorful, metaphorical language. That concrete, propositional language is better than ambiguous, metaphorical language is just one more thing about language that goes without being said in the West.

Clarity over Ambiguity: Hard Facts Are Better than Frilly Words Page 84

So when it comes to communicating the truth, Westerners drift more toward propositions than to artistic expression. Because we are somewhat uncomfortable with the ambiguity of metaphors, we tend to distill propositions out of them. We want to know what they mean, in categorical terms. A philosophical description of God (“omnipresent”) is better than an anthropomorphic one (“his eyes roam to and fro throughout the land”). Or so we think. This is why books on Jesus often talk more about the facts of his life than his parables. To us, things like metaphors and parables sometimes seem like unnecessarily frilly packages for a hard truth. We want to get past the packaging to the content; we want to know what it means.

But the writers of Scripture recorded the profoundest truth in similes, metaphors, parables and other colorful and expressive (and potentially ambiguous) forms of language.

Western societies are, by and large, individualistic societies. The most important entity in an individualistic culture is the individual person. The person’s identity comes by distinguishing herself from the people around her. She is encouraged to avoid peer pressure and be an independent thinker. She will make her decisions regardless of what others think; she may defy her parents with her choice of a college major or career or spouse. The highest goal and virtue in this sort of culture is being true to oneself. The supreme value is the sovereignty of the individual.

In a collectivist culture, the most important entity is the community—the family, the tribe or the country—and not the individual. Preserving the harmony of the community is everyone’s primary goal, and is perceived as much more important than the self-expression or self-fulfillment of the individual. A person’s identity comes not from distinguishing himself from the community, but in knowing and faithfully fulfilling his place. One’s goal is not to get ahead or move beyond one’s community; after all, “the tallest blade of grass is cut first.” Rather, members of collectivist cultures make decisions based on the counsel of elders—parents, aunts or uncles. The highest goal and virtue in this sort of culture is supporting the community. This makes people happy (makarios).

In Western cultures, individual choice is to be protected at all cost. Communities that do not protect it are oppressive; individuals who will not practice it are weak-minded. Conformity, a virtue in a collectivist culture, is a vice in ours.

Non-Westerners often consider collectivism one of their finest traits. Such an individualist in the East is described as someone who “doesn’t get along” or “breaks harmony” or “seeks his own glory” or “is self-important.” Obviously, we prefer the idea that we are “self-reliant.”

the entire Christmas story has been Westernized, a product of Victorian English customs and practices. Since we know from prophecy that Jesus needed to be born in Bethlehem, we don’t ask the obvious question: why in the world would a guy drag his pregnant wife across the country? We assume the Romans must have required it (within the will of God, of course).

The Wrong Idea Pages 100–101

Sure, the Romans required a census, but they allowed a large window of time for people to register. It wasn’t in Rome’s best interest to suddenly require everyone in the empire to travel to their ancestral homeland during one weekend. It seems clear in the text that Mary and Joseph were traveling during festival time—that’s why all the inns were full. Bethlehem was what we might call a bedroom community, or suburb, for Jerusalem. Joseph, unlike many Galileans, was apparently a regular attender of Judean festivals. This might explain why Joseph wanted to visit Jerusalem when he did. But why take Mary when she was “great with child”? It wasn’t ignorance; ancients knew how to count to nine. The reason is simple: if Joseph was of the lineage of David, then so were all his relatives.

The Wrong Idea Page 101

So were all of Mary’s relatives. Moreover, in antiquity one’s relatives were the birthing crew. Mary and Joseph went to Bethlehem when they did because everybody else was going. We imagine Joseph and Mary trudging alone up to Jerusalem, in the quiet of night. Nope. They were part of two large clans—his and hers. (This also explains how Mary and Joseph could “misplace” the twelve-year-old Jesus later. They assumed that he was with his perhaps hundred cousins as the extended family headed home. Only at evening did the boy Jesus go missing.) The birth of Jesus was no solitary event, witnessed only by the doting parents in the quiet of a cattle fold. It was likely a noisy, bustling event attended by grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.

And in him you [plural] too are being built together to become a dwelling in which God lives by his Spirit” (Eph 2:21–22).

Individualism, Collectivism and the Church Page 109

So why go to church? Why worship with a group? Because, in some way we may not fully understand, the Spirit indwells the group in a way the Spirit does not indwell the individual.

Conclusion Page 110

Associating with Christ but not his church is a distinction Jesus would never have made. In his final prayer to the Father before his crucifixion, Jesus prayed that his followers would recognize that they are eternally knit together and that their corporate testimony would win even more followers to the Way.

Jesus viewed us—his church—as a collectivist community. He came to establish a people of God, over which he would reign as king. It is not really “me and Jesus.” He will reign in my heart because he will reign over all creation (Phil 2:10). In the West, it may help if the church started thinking more in terms of we than me.

the ancient world and most of the non-Western world contain honor/shame cultures and the West is made up of innocence/guilt cultures,

In shame cultures, people are more likely to choose right behavior on the basis of what society expects from them. It is not a matter of guilt, nor an inner voice of direction, but outer pressures and opinions that direct a person to behave a certain way.

Rules and laws are less a deterrent for bad behavior than the risk of bringing shame on oneself or one’s family. In fact, one should not regret actions that, in the words of Dayanand Pitamber, “have been approved by those considered significant. When a person performs any act in the interest of the community, he is not concerned about the wrongness or rightness of the acts.”

To summarize, in an innocence/guilt culture (which includes most Western societies), the laws of society, the rules of the church, local mores and the code of the home are all internalized in the person. The goal is that when a person breaks one of these, her or his conscience will be pricked. In fact, it is hoped that the conscience will discourage the person from breaking the rule in the first place. The battle is fought on the inside. In an honor/shame society, such as that of the Bible and much of the non-Western world today, the driving force is to not bring shame upon yourself, your family, your church, your village, your tribe or even your faith. The determining force is the expectations of your significant others (primarily your family).

Defining Honor/Shame Pages 118–119

Their expectations don’t override morals or right/wrong; they actually are the ethical standards. In these cultures, you are shamed when you disappoint those whose expectations matter. “You did wrong”—not by breaking a law and having inner guilt but by failing to meet the expectations of your community. For our discussion here, the point to notice is that the verdict comes not from the inner conscience of the perpetrator but from the external response of his or her group. One’s actions are good or bad depending upon how the community interprets them.

shame is not negative in honor/shame cultures; shaming is. Technically, in these cultures, shame is a good thing: it indicates that you and your community know the proper way to behave. You have a sense of shame; if you didn’t, you would have no shame. You would be shameless. This is different from being shamed.

Language and Some Fine Distinctions Page 119

When one is censured for not having a sense of shame, for being shameless, then one is shamed.

Although David had acted appropriately according to the broader cultural standards of his day, God held him to higher moral standards. Even so, God worked through the honor/shame system to bring David to repentance. The culture of David’s day didn’t have a way to bring up the matter. We Westerners might assume that God’s Spirit would eventually convict David’s inner heart, like Poe’s tell-tale heart. That’s because Westerners are introspective. We respond to internal pressure. But David doesn’t appear to be experiencing any inner pressure. No matter; God is not stymied by culture. God had introduced another element into ancient Near Eastern culture: a prophet. Instead of a voice whispering to his heart, a prophet shouted at his face.

Honor and Shame in the Old Testament Page 126

Since David’s culture used shame to bring about conformity, God used shame to bring David to repentance. “Then Nathan said to David, ‘You are the man!’ ” (2 Sam 12:7).

Nicodemus came at night because he didn’t want his question misunderstood. He was looking for answers from Jesus, not honor. But public questions were contests. The winner was determined by the audience, who represented the community. If you silenced your opponent, you gained honor and they lost some. Even though scholars often refer to this as the “honor game,” don’t underestimate its seriousness.

Honor and Shame in the New Testament Page 130

As we mentioned above, this is why the Jewish officials killed Jesus. They had been challenging Jesus publicly (Mt 12:1–7, for example), and every time they “lost,” they lost honor. They were tired of it, and they wanted their honor back.

Because Western readers tend to understand relationships in terms of rules and laws, we have a tendency also to understand ancient relationships, including those we read about in Scripture, in terms of rules. Once we define relationships with rules, Western readers typically assume that rules (in the form of laws) must apply 100 percent of the time; otherwise, the rule is “broken.” Likewise, rules (in the form of promises) apply to 100 percent of the people involved and apply equally; otherwise, we consider the rule to be unfair. Since God is both reliable and fair, surely his rules must apply equally to all people. Natural laws, like gravity, are no respecters of persons, after all. When we cannot determine how to apply a biblical law or promise to everyone, we declare it to be “cultural” and thus flexible in application.

To the non-Western mind, it seems, a law is more a guideline.

we sometimes exchange our relationship with the living God for adherence to static rules. This tendency shows up in our theological language. Many evangelicals describe our standing before God in terms of forensic justification.

grace and faith are relationship markers and not forensic decrees. Paul used these terms to define a relationship, not to explain a contract or a court ruling. Likewise, holiness is a relational and not a forensic term.

Our tendency to emphasize rules over relationship and correctness over community means that we are often willing to sacrifice relationships on the altar of rules.

We are called to “live by the Spirit” (Gal 5:25). Even after two thousand years, we are still uncomfortable with Paul’s law-free gospel. It still seems to us that the best way to avoid sin is by knowing and keeping the rules, even though Paul asserts, “Walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh” (Gal 5:16). It is an uncertain path, but it leads to abundant life. To do this, we have to learn to identify when the Bible is prioritizing relationship instead of rules or laws.