Bring Back Logos 6 Libraries Too!

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This post has 14 Replies | 2 Followers

Posts 1117
Kiyah | Forum Activity | Posted: Wed, Jun 16 2021 3:07 PM

I see Logos 7 Legacy Libraries are on sale. Bring back Logos 6 libraries too! I'm still mad at Faithlife for releasing Logos 7 libraries 2 months early when I was saving up for one of the Logos 6 Anglican libraries. Since you're bringing back legacy libraries, this is your chance to correct that egregious error, Faithlife.

Posts 1117
Kiyah | Forum Activity | Replied: Wed, Jun 16 2021 3:13 PM

But to be honest, I like the fact that Faithlife is bringing back legacy libraries and making them available to purchase. I hope they continue to do this. Why should we lose access to purchase a library we like just because of a new version release? Keep making legacy libraries available (including Logos 6). I picked up a couple of Logos 8 libraries, I'll take a look at Logos 7 libraries although I own a fair amount of those already (lol). But if they brought back Logos 6 libraries I might not be able to resist...(wink wink nod nod)

Posts 4614
Mattillo | Forum Activity | Replied: Thu, Jun 17 2021 8:33 AM

Yes! 

Posts 5498
SineNomine | Forum Activity | Replied: Thu, Jun 17 2021 2:22 PM

More opportunities to buy resources cheaply are always welcome.

Posts 1229
David Wanat | Forum Activity | Replied: Thu, Jun 17 2021 2:25 PM

I‘d be interested. I was surprised to see so many Verbum 7 i didn’t own after having 8+9 Ultimate.

WIN 10 i7 9750H, RTX 2060, 16GB RAM | iPad Air 3
Verbum 9 Ultimate

Posts 438
Roy | Forum Activity | Replied: Thu, Jun 17 2021 5:03 PM

Bring Back Logos 6 Libraries Too!

Wow! Someone has read my mind! Yes indeedy, I'd buy into that one too.

Posts 1611
Paul Caneparo | Forum Activity | Replied: Sun, Jun 20 2021 12:22 PM

L6 libraries; plus L5, L4, L3, L2 & L1!! Love a deal.

Posts 8198
DAL | Forum Activity | Replied: Sun, Jun 20 2021 12:58 PM

Paul Caneparo:

L6 libraries; plus L5, L4, L3, L2 & L1!! Love a deal.

I don’t know about L4 since L4 was when Baker removed a bunch of resources that never got replaced and the price remained the same.  Good quality resources like BECNT, BNTC, and others got removed.  L5 had too many old public domain resources.  And if I’m not mistaken, there was no L1, L2 and L3; since they were under the Libronix Digital Library Series X System.  

I’m glad for the sales, but not too many premium resources are included.


DAL

Posts 1611
Paul Caneparo | Forum Activity | Replied: Sun, Jun 20 2021 2:06 PM

DAL:

Paul Caneparo:

L6 libraries; plus L5, L4, L3, L2 & L1!! Love a deal.

I don’t know about L4 since L4 was when Baker removed a bunch of resources that never got replaced and the price remained the same.  Good quality resources like BECNT, BNTC, and others got removed.  L5 had too many old public domain resources.  And if I’m not mistaken, there was no L1, L2 and L3; since they were under the Libronix Digital Library Series X System.  

I’m glad for the sales, but not too many premium resources are included.


DAL

DAL

How did you get on with Feasting on the Word in L8 Anglican Silver? Did you find it useful - especially for preaching?

Posts 8198
DAL | Forum Activity | Replied: Sun, Jun 20 2021 3:53 PM

Paul Caneparo:

DAL:

Paul Caneparo:

L6 libraries; plus L5, L4, L3, L2 & L1!! Love a deal.

I don’t know about L4 since L4 was when Baker removed a bunch of resources that never got replaced and the price remained the same.  Good quality resources like BECNT, BNTC, and others got removed.  L5 had too many old public domain resources.  And if I’m not mistaken, there was no L1, L2 and L3; since they were under the Libronix Digital Library Series X System.  

I’m glad for the sales, but not too many premium resources are included.


DAL

DAL

How did you get on with Feasting on the Word in L8 Anglican Silver? Did you find it useful - especially for preaching?

I think so.  Maybe Logos 7 can’t remember for sure.  I know it was cheap ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ‘Œ

Posts 1805
Tom | Forum Activity | Replied: Sun, Jun 20 2021 4:19 PM

Paul it is also in Logos Anglican Bronze, should be a cheap way to find out. https://www.logos.com/product/205221/logos-8-anglican-bronze-legacy-library 

www.hombrereformado.org  Solo a Dios la Gloria   Apoyo

Posts 1611
Paul Caneparo | Forum Activity | Replied: Mon, Jun 21 2021 12:10 AM

Tom:

Paul it is also in Logos Anglican Bronze, should be a cheap way to find out. https://www.logos.com/product/205221/logos-8-anglican-bronze-legacy-library 

Thanks. I meant Bronze. At present it's just under $20 to upgrade. I'm trying to be quite selective now, as I consider my library vast and so I now look for resources that will genuinely add value to my library. If I were buying this I'd be buying it for preaching ideas. My theological leaning is Evangelical - or at least that the way I would describe it, as I realise these words can mean different things to different people in different countries.

Does anyone find Feasting on the Word useful in the context I've described?

Posts 48
Phil Tuften | Forum Activity | Replied: Mon, Jun 21 2021 2:20 AM

Paul, 

Sometimes I dip into it just to get another view.  I am evangelical too, sometimes it just adds a different way of looking at the text.  Don't use it as my main commentary.  Prefer, NICNT/NICOT/ or similar. 

Posts 1611
Paul Caneparo | Forum Activity | Replied: Mon, Jun 21 2021 2:31 AM

Phil Tuften:

Paul, 

Sometimes I dip into it just to get another view.  I am evangelical too, sometimes it just adds a different way of looking at the text.  Don't use it as my main commentary.  Prefer, NICNT/NICOT/ or similar. 

Thanks Phil. I love resources that give me stories to help illustrate my sermons - like Reformed Expository Commentaries, Exalting Jesus, Preaching the Word, Boice, etc. Do you think they will help in that respect?

Posts 4614
Mattillo | Forum Activity | Replied: Mon, Jun 21 2021 8:23 AM

I think it is a neat resource to have as it breaks each reading up into a section (Pastoral, Theological, Exegetical, and Homiletical). I don't deal with lectionaries often but when I do, I always take a peak at this one.

This week is Proper 7 so this is the first part dealing with the first reading from Job:

PROPER 7 (SUNDAY BETWEEN JUNE 19 AND JUNE 25 INCLUSIVE)


Job 38:1โ€’11


Theological Perspective

Why do bad things happen to good people? This old question has fueled vigorous discussion among Job and his friends during the previous thirty-seven chapters. Meanwhile, suspense has been building as Job keeps asking God to answer his complaint (9:32; 13:3, 15, 22, 23; 31:35). Finally God speaks. While noting the need for perseverance and patience in prayer, our theological focus concerns how God responds to Job.
Those of a rational, analytic bent who like clear-cut answers to specific questions are likely to be frustrated. (What is the reason for Job’s suffering? If it is the consequence of sin, does the moral problem lie with Job personally or with the world generally?) Far from the judge who levies charges or defends a victim, God responds as a poet. God does not correct Job or teach him a lesson, but dazzles him with the divine glory. God stretches Job’s imagination to ponder the majestic panorama of creation. The text is vivid. Job is taken on a whirlwind tour to wonder at space and time, at science and nature. The language is invitatory (“let me share with you what I have done”). This is the kind of thing to “make one gasp and stretch one’s eyes,” not so much in analysis as in awe. As G. K. Chesterton put it, “The riddles of God are more satisfying than the solutions of man.” But riddles are hard to understand, and it is doubtful Job feels satisfied. At the end of the first divine speech, Job is invited to respond, but has nothing to say (40:1–5).
The last chapters of Job remind us that it is not so much God who must answer to humanity, as humanity that must answer to God. For God’s “answer” to Job is no solution. Rather, it consists of questions—questions we must consider rhetorical, since the mortal mind can barely fathom their depths. They render Job silent—whether in wonder or puzzlement—until the point where Job sees God (42:5–6). It is this theophany that becomes the decisive factor. Job is offered something more than instruction: he is assured of God’s presence. This resolves Job’s problems on a different level, where the old questions become redundant. The scenario challenges all human egotism, our habit of replacing the confession that our chief end is to glorify God with the assumption that God’s chief end is to be concerned with mortals. “We think and worship as if the only question was whether God loves us, instead of whether His love has absolute power to give itself eternal and righteous effect.”
The sovereignty of God is expressed through the wonder of creation, harnessing a variety of different discourses and traditions. God’s speeches defy formal categorization, containing wisdom material, mythic discourse, divine-warrior imagery, royal language, and legal forms. It is hard to determine any single textual form that offers the interpretive key for the rest. What is more distinctive here are the references to God as YHWH. The specifically Israelite name of God—YHWH—is used at the beginning of each speech and in Job’s response to each (38:1; 40:1, 3, 6; 42:1). Whereas the prose prologue and epilogue of the book of Job use this title, it does not appear in the central portion of the book—in the dialogues between Job and friends, or in the Elihu speeches—until God enters the fray directly here.
This has striking implications. The God of the whole world, the God whose wisdom and power are supreme over all creation and are evident in his universal works of creation, is not a nameless “force,” an abstract อ—el (the Hebrew word for “god”). This God does not exist aside from his particular revelation and relationship with Israel. God reveals the name YHWH to Moses (Exod. 3) at the point where God calls Moses to lead God’s people out of slavery in Egypt. The name YHWH is inextricably tied to the God who redeems a people in trouble, sustains them through the wilderness, and brings them into the promised land. God acts through history, in fulfillment of promises made long before to a particular people, with whom God enters into covenant relationship.
Thus it is not possible to talk of a God “out there” who is sovereign over the universe without relating to the God who enters the fray of history and politics, investing fully in a people and expecting the same loyalty in return. The reference to God as YHWH here in Job reminds us (and Job) of this reality. It forces an integration of philosophy and history, of faith and life. Creation and redemption are inextricably linked. The God who magnificently created the world, who is inherently sovereign and wise, is the same God who enters into covenant and in whom human beings can trust. The naming of God as YHWH also underlines a more subtle point evident in the divine speeches: there is a parallel between the natural order and the moral order. The suffering and injustices of the moral order have their counterpart in the forces of chaos (personified by Behemoth and Leviathan, 40:6–41:34) that threaten the created order. God is sovereign over both realms.
This reinforces the monotheism evident throughout the Hebrew Scriptures. Job himself has already demonstrated the logic of Hebrew monotheism: that the God who made everything is the One to whom we must cry when something is wrong. A Hebrew name speaks of the character of its bearer, and the exodus narratives are paradigmatic here. God’s self-revelation to Moses at the exodus denotes YHWH as one who hears the cry of the oppressed. At the same time, at Sinai, Israel learns (the hard way) that YHWH’s nature is to show mercy and forgiveness (Exod. 33:19; 34:5–7) even as God demands exclusive loyalty (Exod. 34:14). Thus, “I am who I am” (Exod. 3:14)—the God who can be known only on God’s own terms, not by analogy with anything else—whose presence is awesome, whose creation is unfathomable, whose judgment is final, is the God to whom we must cleave, and with whom we must plead, whatever the circumstances.
jo bailey wells


Pastoral Perspective
In the hospital room everything has its place. The IV machine, the telephone, the rolling tray that holds the Styrofoam cup and straw, the reclining chair, the nurse who writes her name on the board in case you forget who is tending to your parishioners, or your father, your child, your grandparent, or you. Inside this room, the church and its messengers also have a place: comforting the afflicted, offering prayers to our God—we are mediators between the physical and the spiritual world. This is the place assigned to us not just by the hospital, but by the expectations of the people who call on the church for support. “Pray for me, pastor.” “Pray for healing in my child.” “Pray for a gentle death for my mother.” This is the place assigned to God’s representatives: one foot inside the cold, sterile hospital room, one foot inside the mystery that governs our meaning.
But by its definition, what is mystery cannot always be arranged in the place of our choosing. Try as we might, we cannot always bring order where there is chaos. We cannot always bring explanation to confusion, we cannot always arrange the rooms of our lives the way we want them. In these places of chaos, where our heart’s deep yearning shouts down our rational selves, we sometimes cry out to God.
Job raises his cry to God and gets a hearing. By some accounts it is not a good one. Overwhelmed by a recitation of natural mysteries that Job and our best theology cannot adequately explain, God’s forceful rhetoric seems to discourage the faithful from ever questioning the persistence of injustice, or the seeming silence of God in the face of suffering, or any other conundrum of our faith that leaves us hurting or dismayed. Reading Job, some may be tempted to wave the white flag to God and give up the struggle.
Many faith journeys stumble at this place. Sometimes those journeys are stymied with the encouragement of the church. Like Job’s friend, Eliphaz (Job 22), the church prefers to share what it knows from its cherished truisms: “God is good all the time”; “God’s will is sometimes hard for us to understand”; “God will not give us more than we can handle.” Like Eliphaz, we do not enjoy puzzling over mysteries that we cannot easily explain.
But that is what the church does when it is at its best—it summons mysteries that are not easily explained; it invites people into these mysteries, never in control of where those mysteries will lead or of what will happen to the people caught up in them. The church introduces people to the living God, as unpredictable and volatile as the sea bursting from its womb (38:8), or the clouds, unfurling a thick darkness too expansive for us to handle (vv. 9–10). This kind of encounter is not for the fainthearted. Job must “gird up [his] loins like a man” (v. 3), prepare himself for a physically taxing encounter. Perhaps this is part of the role of the church—to prepare the questioning faithful for what can be a demanding encounter with our God.
Often, the church treats mystery as the intersection of the physical with the supernatural. Even the most skeptical of Christians will sometimes pray for the supernatural when desperate circumstances leave few other choices: prayers for healing when the doctors know the cancer will stay the course, or prayers for peace in places where violence has lived for a thousand years.
But mystery, according to Job, is located primarily not in what is exceptional, but in what is natural, regular, and known—the morning stars, the sea, the womb, the clouds. They invite Job, and us, to ponder the breadth of the depth of this God with whom we must struggle. In the world unfurled for us in the words of poetry, we find that our questions lead not to answers but to an awareness of how deep and fathomless are the mysteries of the God we struggle to understand.
The temptation of many churches, drenched in the cherished theologies of our traditions, is to give our people answers. But faith, by its very nature, is not the product of right answers. The deepest places of our knowledge of God are often those places that we cannot explain: experiences of tranquility in the presence of fear, comfort known deeply near death, the enigma of undeserved suffering visited on the life of a child—these and many other moments experienced regularly by people in the church.
These are the kinds of moments people of faith cherish, puzzle over, and pay attention to. These are the mysteries that the church cannot often explain. Most of the time people do not want an explanation. They want an experience of the presence of God, more unpredictable than they had originally hoped, more mysterious than they had first imagined, perhaps more real than the gods we all construct to our own specifications. These moments of mystery are the answers to the questions about God most of us do not know how to ask: comfort, challenge, joy, and hope, all wrapped up into moments that do come. Perhaps the church’s vocation has less to do with explaining the root of that mystery and more to do with making space for that kind of mystery to be known and shared.
In the hospital room, like every other room in our lives, not everything has its place, not everything is given a meaning that we can understand. Like Job, the people of God ask for explanation, for an accounting. More often than not, what we are given are moments of mystery. The church’s role is to support people in the midst of this encounter, to teach them the interpretive tasks of recognizing God’s work, not just in the exceptional moments of our lives, but in the regular moments of every human life, where God can be known but never finally explained.
andrew foster connors


Exegetical Perspective
A Solo Amid Multiple Voices. The structure of the book of Job demonstrates how the book creates a polyphonic presentation of multiple voices. We find the voice of the narrator, the satan (the accuser), Job’s friends (Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar), the uninvited Elihu, Job’s wife, and of course Job. For most of the book the divine name lies sequestered, appearing only as a foil to the satan (the accuser). The polyphony of voices gives way to a solo when God takes the stage in chapter 38.
Whenever God speaks in the Hebrew Bible, the attention shifts. However, this is all the more so when it is preceded by circular conversations. The dialogue carries the narrative. When one reads the book, the lack of prose leads one to forget the strong narrative feel of the piece.
Doublespeak in a Place Not My Home. The seeming clarity masks a double message of the text: “speak up” and “know your place.” Much of the earlier book has been addressing the absence of God; chapter 38 provides a decisive rebuttal of such an accusation (Job 38:1; 40:1, 6; Joel 2:19; Zech. 1:13). Earlier in the book Job had answered plenty. More than that, he requested an answer from God.
The term here translated “whirlwind” is used in the context of divine appearance (see Ezek. 1:4). The broader use of a storm as a sign of divine appearance occurs using other terms as well (See Pss. 18:7–15; 50:3; 68:8; Nah. 1:3; Zech. 9:14). Elijah was taken off in the midst of a whirlwind (2 Kgs. 2:11). The whirlwind strikes the reader as a place where the reader is not at home.
After the editor sets the scene, the text moves into a series of questions meant to explore the credentials of Job as a witness. The reader who looks at verses 4–11 sees a set of cosmological markers: the foundation of the world (vv. 4–7) and the establishment of the seas (vv. 8–11). While the unit does not stop after verse 11, the tone does continue through the end of the first divine speech. Thus a reader can take these two portions as limits that can represent the broad sweep of the entire unit (38:2–40:2).
The book of Job functions as a series of speeches and counterspeeches, sometimes referred to as a dialogue. The speech in 38:1–11 builds with a series of rhetorical questions. The first one goes to the heart of identity, “who.” This is one of the most controversial verses in the passage. The debate has centered on whether the question is meant to impugn the witness of Job. The metaphor “darkens counsel” stands as a counterpoint to Job’s description of divine wisdom (12:13–25). The writer uses synonymous parallelism, “darkens counsel” and “words obscuring knowledge” (my translations), to depict Job as the epitome of the unwise character. The text with an ironic sleight of hand betrays its purpose. When God designates Job as the personification of the antiwisdom, one understands the movement of the text.
The imperative “Gird up your loins like a warrior” (38:3a; 40:7) in late modernity creates a stir. This could be a call to action (Jer. 1:17) that requires loose ends to be tied up (Exod. 12:11; 1 Kgs. 18:46) or physical and intellectual courage and agility. Often the language of warrior (geber) is the language of agency. But here the agency is thwarted. Once again the use of similar gender-based shaming in popular culture can be instructive. Often when such phrases are used, the function is to coerce through shaming a type of desired behavior. Here the goal is disclosure: forced testimony.
One can hardly miss the irony here. Typically the warrior embodies the least disclosive character. One could paraphrase the passage, “Gird up your loins like a man, and I will make you sing like a bird.” The metaphors collapse on themselves. The superior reading observes the interlocking strategy of rhetorical questions and imperatives. The “who” question points to the previous and necessary testimony of Job, and the imperatives speak to the ongoing witness of that testimony.
Where in the World Were You? The second rhetorical question captures an English colloquialism as well: “Where were you?” Once again the question precedes an imperative of disclosure. This rhetorical question is a social discriminator, setting some in the group and others outside. Just as the whirlwind provides a way of distinguishing the divine voice from Job’s, now the temporal realm becomes a discriminator between the two. The language “the foundations of the earth” harks back to creation myths as authorizing stories. The ones there at the very beginning derive benefits of longevity—financial benefits. In the case of Job the benefits are perspectival, that is to say, wisdom.
Verse 5 has two rhetorical questions set in synonymous parallelism. Once again the question is “who” and the locus is “from the beginning.” Tossed into the middle of these rhetorical questions one finds the taunt “surely you know.” The momentum of the passage is building like a cross-examination of a witness in a legal drama. Before the witness can give an answer, the accuser, this time God rather than the satan, presses on. The rhetorical questions of verses 6–7 press the absence of Job at the creation of the world, just as Job presses the absence of God during Job’s suffering. Just as verses 4–7 outline Job’s absence from the creation of the world, verses 8–11 testify to Job’s absence in the establishment of the seas.
stephen breck reid


Homiletical Perspective
This lection begins the climax to the book of Job: God’s dramatic answer to Job out of the whirlwind. While the figure of Job has seeped into popular consciousness, many listeners are not familiar with the details of the story as it appears in Scripture. To understand the climax, listeners need to know the contours of the whole narrative. To grasp God’s answer, they first need to know Job’s question.
Job’s question emerges from a particular framework for understanding the world, a theory that was shared by ancient Israel and many of the surrounding cultures and one that will still sound familiar to listeners today. According to this framework, those who live a good life and are obedient to God’s commands will be rewarded with good fortune—health, wealth, and other blessings. Those who sin and disobey God’s commandments will meet misfortune—illness, poverty, and other woes. This legalistic moral framework, focused on right and wrong, was considered the essence of justice. People get what they deserve. They reap what they sow. When tragedies strike, as they inevitably do, consolation is found in the belief that the outcome is just, that the victims must deserve the “punishment” in some way.
Job had lived and breathed the moral framework of his culture, this particular understanding of the world, his whole life. Then his own tragedy strikes. Chaos comes knocking at his door. Thanks to a heavenly deal between God and Satan, Job loses everything. His flocks are stolen, his servants murdered, his children killed, his health ruined. And yet Job is innocent. As Job sits among the ashes with nothing but a potsherd to scratch his skin, all the evidence suggests that Job’s framework for understanding the world is inadequate. Job knows that he has not sinned or disobeyed God—and still he suffers.
Job cannot see beyond his narrow worldview. All he can perceive in his situation is injustice. He still thinks of the world in legal terms of right and wrong, even though this legal theory has failed him. Job’s framework has proven inadequate, but it is the only thing left standing between him and the chaos of the world. Job is desperate for justice, not chaos, to prevail. So when this legal framework fails him, Job seeks a legal solution—a trial. In desperation, Job challenges God to a legal hearing, convinced that if only he has a chance to plead his case in court, then surely he will be vindicated. Surely justice will prevail and the chaos will be tamed. Job demands to know why he must suffer despite his innocence: “Let the Almighty answer me!” (31:35).
Job’s question, of course, is also our own. This lection provides the preacher an opportunity to probe the chaos of our own lives, to name out loud the doubts and fears we normally whisper only in the dark on sleepless nights. Job invites us to examine our own frameworks for organizing the unimaginable, to see with clear eyes the constructs we use to hold chaos at bay. Like Job, we are loath to admit when our frameworks fail us, and we are unprepared for God’s answer.
And God does indeed answer. Out of the whirlwind, God replies, “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 heavenly beings shouted for joy?” (38:4–7). The lection includes only the first eleven verses, but God’s response goes on for four chapters and spans the whole universe. In a fierce and beautiful poetic litany, God describes the works of creation, from the birth of the seas to the movement of the constellations, from the patterns of wind and rain to the customs of wild creatures. God’s expansive answer from the whirlwind tells Job, “Your categories were far too small. You think in terms of the courtroom. I think in terms of the cosmos. Your human theories cannot possibly capture the complexity of the universe, nor can they contain the chaos. For chaos is part of creation as surely as crocodiles roam the Nile.”
In all of this beautiful, lyric response, God’s rebuttal never actually answers Job’s question. God never explains why Job has suffered as he has. Barbara Brown Taylor observes, “Job’s question was about justice. God’s answer is about omnipotence, and as far as I know, that is the only answer human beings have ever gotten about why things happen the way they do. God only knows. And none of us is God.”
Instead, at God’s insistence, Job must confront that which he fears most. He faces the chaos of the world and the immensity of the cosmos. And his blinders fall off. “I had heard of you by the hearing of the ear,” Job says to God, “but now my eye sees you” (42:5). With God’s answer from the whirlwind, Job’s narrow moral framework gives way to a cosmic vision of the Divine. In this divine encounter, Job acknowledges the inescapable presence of the chaotic in existence. And yet he comes to recognize that despite the existence of chaos, the world rests on a secure foundation. Despite his pain and loss, God’s creation will support and sustain. Job’s question is never answered. He is comforted not by an explanation, but by a vision—he has seen the Divine and lived.
The challenge for the preacher is to convey that vision to listeners who may long instead for explanation. For ultimately the content of God’s answer to Job does not matter nearly as much as this: God answers. That is the miracle. The chaos is still there, but so is God. And that is enough.

leanne pearce reed

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