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The message of this psalm is that nature’s wonders and God’s forgiveness come together as dual witnesses of grace. Psalm 65 is a community psalm of thanksgiving,1 grammatically indicated by the plural pronouns (“we” and “our”) in verses 1–5. (See also Pss. 9–10.) The psalm of thanksgiving …
1 Praise awaits you, O God, in Zion; to you our vows will be fulfilled.
2 O you who hear prayer, to you all men will come.
3 When we were overwhelmed by sins, you forgave our transgressions.
4 Blessed are those you choose and bring near to live in your courts! We are filled with the good things of your house, of your holy temple.
5 You answer us with awesome deeds of righteousness, O God our Savior, the hope of all the ends of the earth and of the farthest seas,
6 who formed the mountains by your power, having armed yourself with strength,
7 who stilled the roaring of the seas, the roaring of their waves, and the turmoil of the nations.
8 Those living far away fear your wonders; where morning dawns and evening fades you call forth songs of joy.
9 You care for the land and water it; you enrich it abundantly. The streams of God are filled with water to provide the people with grain, for so you have ordained it.
10 You drench its furrows and level its ridges; you soften it with showers and bless its crops.
11 You crown the year with your bounty, and your carts overflow with abundance.
12 The grasslands of the desert overflow; the hills are clothed with gladness.
13 The meadows are covered with flocks and the valleys are mantled with grain; they shout for joy and sing.
Psalm 64:10 exhorts people to praise God; Psalm 65 describes that praise which begins in Jerusalem (65:1), is echoed by all peoples (65:2, 5, 8), and is proclaimed throughout the earth by creation itself (65:9–13). God resolves humanity’s deepest needs: forgiving people, drawing them to him, blessing them (65:3–4). Those overwhelmed by their own sin God overwhelms by demonstrating his righteous power in creation (65:3, 5–7), using creation to provide abundantly for the world (65:9–13).
Big Idea: Nature’s wonders and God’s forgiveness come together as dual witnesses of grace.
Understanding the Text
Psalm 65 is a community psalm of thanksgiving,1 grammatically indicated by the plural pronouns (“we” and “our”) in verses 1–5. (See the sidebar “Psalms of Thanksgiving” in the unit on Pss. 9–10.) The psalm of thanksgiving includes two essential elements: a report of the crisis that generated the thanksgiving (“we were overwhelmed by sins,” 65:3a) and the acknowledgment of deliverance (“you forgave our transgressions,” 65:3b). The account of an abundant harvest (65:9–13) leads some scholars to connect this psalm to one of the agricultural festivals (Passover / Unleavened Bread—barley harvest; Feast of Weeks—wheat harvest; Feast of Tabernacles [Sukkot]—grape harvest). It certainly sounds like a harvest hymn, whose beauty, says Kidner, “puts every harvest hymn to shame as plodding and contrived.”2
Psalms 65–68 are grouped together by two common words in their titles: “song” (shir) and “psalm” (mizmor). The editor of Book 2 probably had this minicollection at hand as he put the larger collection together, or he provided links to connect these four psalms, two of which are not attributed to David (Pss. 66 and 67).
Outline/Structure
The psalm falls into two parts, part 1 dealing with the forgiveness of sins (65:1–5), transitioning into part 2 (65:6–13) by the reference to the “ends of the earth and of the farthest seas” in verse 5c. Part 2 begins with two successive Hebrew participles to describe God’s creation of the world (“who formed” and “who stilled,” 65:6, 7), and then moves into the Creator’s care of his world (65:9–13). This psalm of thanksgiving is phrased in terms of the praise of God.
Part 1 (65:1–5)
a. Praise of God, who forgives sins (65:1–4)
b. Praise of God, who is the hope of the world (65:5)
Part 2 (65:6–13)
a. Praise of God, who created the world (65:6–7)
b. Praise of God, who calls forth songs of joy by the wonders of his creation (65:8)
c. Praise of the Sustainer of the earth and Giver of bountiful harvests (65:9–13)
Historical and Cultural Background
The historical setting is uncertain. However, Sennacherib’s invasion of Judah in 701 BC and the abundant harvest that Isaiah promised in the “third year” (Isa. 37:30) present this general time frame as a possibility.3Even if one retains the right of Davidic authorship, the psalm could have been reused in that context, as often happened.
Culturally speaking, this poem points to the agrarian nature of Israelite society, so dependent on rainfall, agriculture, and husbandry. In the ancient Near East agriculture and husbandry were the foundation of society.
Interpretive Insights
65:1 Praise awaits you, our God, in Zion; to you our vows will be fulfilled.The word rendered “awaits” (dumiyyah) occurs also in Psalm 62:1. It can be translated as “silence,” and rendered literally, “Silence is praise.” Fulfilling a vow involved a peace offering and singing praise to God. In fact, the verb “to pay a vow” and the noun “peace offerings” have the same root (shlm; see the comments on Ps. 61:8).4
65:2 all people.The Hebrew phrase kol-basar (lit., “all flesh”; NIV: “all people”) refers to all human beings, including gentiles. The use of this phrase in Genesis 6–9 includes animals too.
65:3 When we were overwhelmed by sins, you forgave.Literally, “our transgressions were too strong for me; you forgave them.” This psalm knows the acuteness of our sins but, thanks to forgiveness, not its despair, because it is “precisely to you” (the sense of the preposition ‘ad [“to”] rather than le [“to”] of 65:1b) that all people will come (65:2). That is the power of grace that calls one and all to the forgiving God.
65:4 those you choose . . . filled with the good things of your house.This verse may have been a prayer the pilgrims recited as they passed through the gates of the temple.5“Those you choose” is a singular reference in Hebrew and could point to a king or priest. The latter officiant is the one who is “brought near” to the altar, alluding to the priest’s approach to the sacrificial altar (e.g., Exod. 40:12, 14, 32; Lev. 7:35).6However, it could also have a collective meaning, as the NIV translates it. Whether “all people” of verse 2 are among “those you choose” is not certain, but Isaiah pictures the day when the gentiles will come to Yahweh’s “holy mountain in Jerusalem” and become “priests and Levites” (Isa. 66:18–24). The “good things of your house” may refer to the peace offerings that the worshipers shared. See Psalm 22:26: “The poor will eat and be satisfied.”
65:5 You answer us with awesome and righteous deeds. Literally, “you answer with awesome deeds, in righteousness.” The latter phrase, “in righteousness,” is the standard by which God performs his awesome deeds. In Psalm 65:5–8, the message seems to be that the God who kept the primordial waters in their place can certainly keep the “nations” (65:7) in bounds.
65:6 who formed the mountains . . . having armed yourself with strength.The verb translated “formed” is the equivalent of “creates.” The image of one having armed himself with strength is that of a man tightening his belt to augment his strength before engaging in a strenuous task (cf. Job 40:7).
65:7 who stilled the roaring of the seas . . . the turmoil of the nations. See also Psalm 89:9. The idea seems to be that God rules over the seas to keep them from flooding the dry land. See Psalms 29 and 46 for the idea that God, in the beginning, stilled the roaring of the seas. Note that the Hebrew participle (“who stilled”) governs three objects: “the roaring of the seas, the roaring of their waves, and the turmoil of the nations.” The latter phrase, occurring at the end of the verse, carries the sense, “This, too, he stills.”7
65:8 awe at your wonders.“Wonders” is the same word that designates God’s miraculous “signs” in Egypt (“signs and wonders,” 135:9; cf. 78:43; 105:27). This verse can be rendered literally: “The inhabitants of the remotest regions fear because of your signs; you cause them to sing for joy at the outgoings of the morning and the evening.”
65:9 You care for the land and water it . . . The streams of God are filled.The verb translated “water” means “to overflow” (Joel 2:24). The use of ’elohim (in “streams of God”) suggests “the largest streams.” See the comments on Psalm 36:6; see also Jonah 3:3.
65:10 You drench its furrows and level its ridges. This is a description of the early rains that soften the ground for plowing.
65:11 You crown the year with your bounty.This is a reference to the harvest.
65:12–13 the hills are clothed with gladness. The meadows are covered with flocks.These lovely metaphors (vv. 8–13) are a descriptive way to say, “The earth declares the glory of God” (see Ps. 19:1; also 30:11).
Theological Insights
The book of Psalms, more than any other book of Scripture, creates in its readers a consciousness of sin and, just as starkly, the overwhelming power of forgiveness. Paul’s statement about sin and grace in Romans 5:20 could easily be designated as the caption of this topic in the Psalter: “Where sin abounded, grace did much more abound” (KJV). Sometimes this awareness became so acute for the psalmists that they would have sunk into despair had it not been for the power of forgiveness.
Verses 2 and 3 imply that forgiveness has a centripetal power that pulls “all flesh” (NIV: “all people”) to the center of grace. This, as every Israelite knew, was represented by the temple that was “filled with the good things” of God (65:4). The language of verse 4, to “choose,” to “bring near,” and to “dwell” (NIV: to “live”), may allude to the priests, Aaron’s family, whom God “chose” to “come near” the altar for sacrifice and to “dwell” in the temple. Yet it could as easily allude to the people of Israel, the people of God, chosen as a “kingdom of priests” (Exod. 19:6) and “brought near” to the altar, where forgiveness becomes a reality, a reality to which “all people will come” (in Heb. 4:16, note the priestly language: “approach God’s throne of grace with confidence”). Isaiah foresees the day when even the gentiles will be able to approach God’s sanctuary and offer their sacrifices, and his house “will be called a house of prayer for all nations” (Isa. 56:7).
Quite clearly, God is not the exclusive deity of Israel, but his wonders attract the attention of “the whole earth” (lit., “the inhabitants of the ends” [of the earth]; 65:8). Nor do his wonders end with the marvels of creation, but they extend to the meadows “covered with flocks” and the valleys “mantled with grain” (65:13). Here God becomes the Valet of Israel’s rocky landscape and clothes the wilderness with grass, dons the hills with gladness, covers the meadows with flocks, and throws a mantle of grain over the valleys. Israel’s topography was never so beautifully adorned.
Teaching the Text
Sometimes a psalm is so theologically inclusive that, if we look carefully, we can see the outline of biblical doctrines and sometimes the broader outline of biblical theology. We have to train our eyes to look for the clues, and when we have found them, we will have received the answer to the psalmist’s prayer in Psalm 119:18: “Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in your law.”
As we peruse the psalm, we will notice that the doctrines of both creation and redemption come into view, but in reverse order. In a sense we could say that all other biblical doctrines fall under these two.
Redemption:
When we were overwhelmed by sins,
you forgave our transgressions. (65:3)
We may make the observation that the doctrine of redemption, seen on its macrocosmic scale as the redemption of Israel from Egypt, reduces in many biblical contexts to the personal transaction of God’s forgiveness, as it does here. Redemption is never theoretical.
Then the psalm moves to the topic of creation in verse 6 and stretches that subject out to the beautiful metaphors and language of the remainder of the psalm.
Creation:
Who formed the mountains by your power,
having armed yourself with strength,
who stilled the roaring of the seas,
the roaring of their waves,
and the turmoil of the nations. (65:6–7)
We should inform our audience that, in the Psalms, creation and redemption are closely linked. The reason, at least in part, is that only the Creator can redeem. So when the Redeemer steps onto the stage of a biblical text, the Creator is waiting backstage to step forth at the proper time, and vice versa.
For New Testament believers, it is always appropriate to ask what the connections of this text are to the faith of the New Testament. That was a question the apostles always had in mind, and it is appropriate for us as well. The expansive plan God had before he created the world included redemption, or we might say God’s eternal plan of redemption included creation. There is a Jewish saying that one should carry two stones in one’s pocket. On one stone should be written, “I am but dust and ashes,” and on the other, “For my sake was the world created,” and one should use each stone as one needs it. In a sense, our psalmist, by beginning with redemption and proceeding to creation, is expressing a similar thought. God’s forgiveness of his sins has triggered a powerfully beautiful essay on God’s creation of the world.
This relationship became a major feature of New Testament theology. Paul says that God has chosen us in Christ “before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and without blame before him in love” (Eph. 1:4 KJV). He has this mystery in mind as he admonishes his young disciple Timothy not to be ashamed of the testimony about the Lord but to “share in the suffering of the gospel by the power of God, who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began” (2 Tim. 1:8b–9 ESV, emphasis added). And Peter declares that God made provision for our redemption through Christ’s precious blood “before the creation of the world” (1 Pet. 1:19–20). John also speaks of “the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world” (Rev. 13:8 KJV; see also 17:8). That means that grace or redemption was an eternal reality, and it also means that creation presupposes redemption. Or to put it another way, when we meet the Creator of the world in Genesis 1 and 2, we are meeting the Redeemer of the world, the one who forgives our sins. Indeed, the fact that God has redemption in mind is already evident in Genesis 3:15, when the Lord promises that the woman’s offspring will crush the serpent’s head. This has long been seen as a messianic prophecy that Christ fulfilled. Truly this world is incredibly beautiful and marvelously designed, but the wonder of wonders is grace.
Creation is something we all have in common, and if we understand that grace is built into the order of creation, then we are confronted anew with the God of the universe, who is not only Creator but also Redeemer, who not only formed the mountains but forgives our sins. David can begin Psalm 65 by talking about grace and then, without apology, transition to the topic of creation. While the suppliant did not have the advantage of the wide biblical understanding that we gratefully have, he understood that grace and creation belong together. That link helped to set the stage for the New Testament attestation of God’s eternal decree of redemption.
Illustrating the Text
Overwhelmed by sin
Church History: The Reformer Martin Luther struggled greatly with his sins before “discovering” grace in the book of Romans. Luther would sometimes confess his sins for as long as six hours at a time, and still he was frightened that he had more sins to confess. It appears, at that time, Luther could relate to David’s words in Psalm 65:3, “When we were overwhelmed by sins . . .” Luther reflected on discovering grace in Romans:
Night and day I pondered until I saw the connection between the justice of God and the statement that “the just shall live by his faith.” Then I grasped that the justice of God is that righteousness by which through grace and sheer mercy God justifies us through faith. Thereupon I felt myself to be reborn and to have gone through open doors into paradise.8
Both David and Luther provide instruction to us about the importance of understanding the gravity and scope of our sin, and this understanding underlies the marvel of grace.
The centripetal power of grace
Bible: There are basically two models of missionary activity in the Psalms and the Prophets: (1) the centrifugal, which portrays Israel as radiating its light to the nations (Isa. 42:6) and dispatching its emissaries with the good news of salvation (Isa. 52:7–10); and (2) the centripetal, which portrays the nations of the world drawn to Israel by the sheer magnetic force of her God and the good news of salvation (Isa. 66:22–24; Ps. 47:9). The Christian church, basically answering the Great Commission to “go and make disciples of all nations” (Matt. 28:19–20), has generally emphasized the first model over the second. But the second has its merits and its prominence in the Psalms, as here in 65:2: “To you all people will come.” The attraction seems to be the overpowering grace of forgiveness demonstrated in Israel’s history (65:3), perhaps linking to the saving news of 64:9. God’s works on Israel’s behalf benefit the world as well, pointing certainly in the direction of the cross and its universal saving power. The church’s task is to engage both models of grace, recognizing that the dynamics of each are different.
God’s grace is sovereign.
News Story: In 1992, a cargo ship hit rough seas, and several shipping containers were washed overboard. One container holding twenty-eight thousand plastic bath toys broke open, and the toys began to float in the Pacific; some of them found their way to Alaska, South America, and even the Arctic. About two thousand toys were caught in a vortex of currents, creating a floating, plastic trash heap. Some of the toys periodically break away and end up finding a shore. But the rubber toys do not just break themselves free. Rather, it takes an event of nature—a storm, a shift in winds, or an act of marine life—to enable the toys to break free of the vortex.9This story provides a picture of God’s sovereign grace and the connection with creation. Left to ourselves, we would be forever caught in the consequences of our sin. But the sovereign God who created the universe does for us what we could never do for ourselves, not leaving us to founder helplessly in our despair but breaking us free from our bondage. We are set free from the power of sin and death through the eternal power of the cross of Jesus Christ. The psalmist exults in this power of grace, “When we were overwhelmed by sins, you forgave our transgressions” (v. 3).
Direct Matches
A small, horse-drawn platform with various configurations throughout history with regard to size, construction, and purpose. The earliest known chariots are nearly three thousand years older than the racing chariots of the Roman Empire. They were bulky, four-wheeled carts pulled by mules instead of horses, making them very slow.
In the Bible, chariots often symbolize power and status (Gen. 41:43; Acts 8:26 40). For example, the “iron chariots” described in Josh. 17:16–18 evoked dread among the tribes of Israel preparing to enter the promised land. Psalm 20:7 sharply contrasts trust in God and trust in chariots, which are a symbol of human power. Perhaps the most vivid depiction of chariots in Scripture is that of Pharaoh’s army descending upon the Israelites fleeing Egypt, and of his chariots’ drivers sinking into the sea (Exod. 14–15).
Headgear signifying honor, victory, power, or authority. A crown was worn by monarchs in the ancient world to designate their royal power, often including a golden headband with precious stones in it, as well as a turban.
There are two important types of crowns in the OT: the priestly and the royal. A royal crown first appears with Saul (2 Sam. 1:10) and is worn by monarchs after him, including David (2 Sam. 12:30; 1 Chron. 20:2; see also Pss. 21:3; 132:18) and Joash (2 Kings 11:12; 2 Chron. 23:11). The book of Exodus depicts a crownlike turban to which is affixed a golden “sacred emblem” bearing the inscription “Holy to the Lord,” which is to be worn by the high priest (Exod. 28:36 37; 29:6; see also, e.g., 39:30; Lev. 8:9).
Zechariah 6:11–14 looks to a future messiah, “the Branch,” who will be both priest and king, thus wearing a priestly and royal crown. Before his crucifixion, Jesus’ tormentors place on his head a mock crown made of thorns (Matt. 27:29; Mark 15:17; John 19:2, 5). In the book of Revelation both godly and satanic figures wear crowns: the elders in heaven (4:4, 10), the rider of the white horse (6:2), the locusts from the Abyss (9:7), the woman clothed with the sun (12:1), the dragon and the beast (12:3; 13:1), the one “like a son of man” (14:14), and Christ himself (19:12).
Deliverance provides relief or escape from a detrimental situation or the prospect of adverse circumstances. Deliverance may come from God or humans and may be from physical temporal distress or spiritual in nature.
The principal example of deliverance in the OT is the exodus, God’s deliverance of Israel from Egypt. The NT continues the exodus theme in that Jesus’ death and resurrection, the foundation for salvation, coincide with the celebration of Passover. This constitutes deliverance in that all humanity is in slavery to the power of sin and subject to the penalty of death. Jesus’ death and resurrection provide the possibility of deliverance, usually called “salvation,” from the power of sin and death (1 Cor. 15:51 57; Gal. 1:4; Col. 1:13; 1 Thess. 1:10).
Throughout the Bible, God provides deliverers and is a deliverer (Judg. 3:15; 2 Sam. 22:2; 2 Kings 13:5; Ps. 40:17). The NT prefers the term “Savior,” applying it to God the Father and to Jesus Christ.
A broad designation for certain regions in Israel, typically rocky, although also plains, with little rainfall. These areas generally are uninhabited, and most often “wilderness” refers to specific regions surrounding inhabited Israel. A fair amount of Scripture’s focus with respect to the wilderness concerns Israel’s forty-year period of wandering in the wilderness after the exodus (see also Wilderness Wandering).
More specifically, the geographical locations designated “wilderness” fall into four basic categories: the Negev (south), Transjordan (east), Judean (eastern slope of Judean mountains), and Sinai (southwest).
The Negev makes up a fair amount of Israel’s southern kingdom, Judah. It is very rocky and also includes plateaus and wadis, which are dry riverbeds that can bloom after rains. Its most important city is Beersheba (see Gen. 21:14, 22 34), which often designates Israel’s southernmost border, as in the expression “from Dan to Beersheba” (e.g., 2 Sam. 17:11).
Transjordan pertains to the area east of the Jordan River, the area through which the Israelites had to pass before crossing the Jordan on their way from Mount Sinai to Canaan. (Israel was denied direct passage to Canaan by the Edomites and Amorites [see Num. 20:14–21; 21:21–26].) Even though this region lay outside the promised land of Canaan, it was settled by the tribes of Reuben, Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh after they had fulfilled God’s command to fight alongside the other tribes in conquering Canaan (Num. 32:1–42; Josh. 13:8; 22:1–34).
The Judean Desert is located on the eastern slopes of the Judean mountains, toward the Dead Sea. David fled there for refuge from Saul (1 Sam. 21–23). It was also in this area that Jesus was tempted (Luke 4:1–13).
The Sinai Desert is a large peninsula, with the modern-day Gulf of Suez to the west and the Gulf of Aqaba to the east. In the ancient Near Eastern world, both bodies of water often were referred to as the “Red Sea,” which is the larger sea to the south. In addition to the region traditionally believed to contain the location of Mount Sinai (its exact location is unknown), the Sinai Desert is further subdivided into other areas known to readers of the OT: Desert of Zin (northeast, contains Kadesh Barnea), Desert of Shur (northwest, near Egypt), Desert of Paran (central).
Wilderness is commonly mentioned in the Bible, and although it certainly can have neutral connotations (i.e., simply describing a location), the uninhabited places often entail both positive (e.g., as a place of solitude) and negative (e.g., as a place of wrath) connotations, both in their actual geological properties and as metaphors. The very rugged and uninhabited nature of the wilderness easily lent itself to being a place of death (e.g., Deut. 8:15; Ps. 107:4–5; Jer. 2:6). It was also a place associated with Israel’s rebellions and struggles with other nations. Upon leaving Egypt, Israel spent forty years wandering the wilderness before entering Canaan, encountering numerous military conflicts along the way. This forty-year period was occasioned by a mass rebellion (Num. 14), hence casting a necessarily dark cloud over that entire period, and no doubt firming up subsequent negative connotations of “wilderness.” Similarly, “wilderness” connotes notions of exile from Israel, as seen in the ritual of the scapegoat (lit., “goat of removal” [see Lev. 16]). On the Day of Atonement, one goat was sacrificed to atone for the people’s sin, and another was sent off, likewise to atone for sin. The scapegoat was released into the desert, where it would encounter certain death, either by succumbing to the climate or through wild animals.
On the other hand, it is precisely in this uninhabited land that God also showed his faithfulness to his people, despite their prolonged punishment. He miraculously supplied bread (manna) and meat (quail) (Exod. 16; Num. 11), as well as water (Exod. 15:22–27; 17:1–7; Num. 20:1–13; 21:16–20). God’s care for Israel is amply summarized in Deut. 1:30–31: “The Lord your God, who is going before you, will fight for you, as he did for you in Egypt, before your very eyes, and in the wilderness. There you saw how the Lord your God carried you, as a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place.”
The harsh realities of the wilderness also made it an ideal place to seek sanctuary and protection. David fled from Saul to the wilderness, the Desert of Ziph (1 Sam. 23:14; 26:2–3; cf. Ps. 55:7). Similarly, Jeremiah sought a retreat in the desert from sinful Israel (Jer. 9:2).
Related somewhat to this last point is Jesus’ own attitude toward the wilderness. It was there that he retreated when he could no longer move about publicly (John 11:54). John the Baptist came from the wilderness announcing Jesus’ ministry (Matt. 3:1–3; Mark 1:2–4; Luke 3:2–6; John 1:23; cf. Isa. 40:3–5). It was also in the desert that Jesus went to be tempted but also overcame that temptation.
Israel shared the cosmology of its ancient Near Eastern neighbors. This worldview understood the earth as a “disk” upon the primeval waters (Job 38:13; Isa. 40:22), with the earth having four rims or “corners” (Ps. 135:7; Isa. 11:12). These rims were sealed at the horizon to prevent the influx of cosmic waters. God speaks to Job about the dawn grasping the edges of the earth and shaking the evil people out of it (Job 38:12 13).
Israel’s promised land was built on the sanctuary prototype of Eden (Gen. 13:10; Deut. 6:3; 31:20); both were defined by divine blessing, fertility, legal instruction, secure boundaries, and were orienting points for the world. Canaan was Israel’s new paradise, “flowing with milk and honey” (Exod. 3:8; Num. 13:27). Conversely, the lack of fertile land was tantamount to insecurity and judgment. As Eden illustrated for Israel, any rupture of relationship with God brought alienation between humans, God, and the land; this could ultimately bring exile, as an ethically nauseated land “vomits” people out (Lev. 18:25, 28; 20:22; see also Deut. 4; 30).
For Israel, land involved both God’s covenant promise (Gen. 15:18–21; 35:9–12) and the nation’s faithful obedience (Gen. 17:1; Exod. 19:5; 1 Kings 2:1–4). Yahweh was the earth’s Lord (Ps. 97:5), Judge (Gen. 18:25), and King (Ps. 47:2, 7). Both owner and giver, he was the supreme landlord, who gifted the land to Israel (Exod. 19:5; Lev. 25:23; Josh. 22:19; Ps. 24:1). The land was God’s “inheritance” to give (1 Sam. 26:19; 2 Sam. 14:16; Ps. 79:1; Jer. 2:7). The Levites, however, did not receive an allotment of land as did the other tribes, since God was their “portion” (Num. 18:20; Ps. 73:26). Israel’s obedience was necessary both to enter and to occupy the land (Deut. 8:1–3; 11:8–9; 21:1; 27:1–3). Ironically, the earth swallowed rebellious Israelites when they accused Moses of bringing them “up out of a land flowing with milk and honey” (Num. 16:13). As the conquest shows, however, no tribe was completely obedient, taking its full “inheritance” (Josh. 13:1).
Fasting, often linked with prayer, was one avenue of appeal to God in the face of crises, both national and personal. Moses ascended to Mount Sinai and was with God forty days and nights without eating bread or drinking water, both before and after the Israelites’ sin with the golden calf (Exod. 34:28; Deut. 9:8 18). David fasted when his son was dying (2 Sam. 12:15–23). Esther called all the Jews of Susa to fast for three days before she ventured before the king (Esther 4:15–17). Joel called the people to repentance and fasting as the land was devastated by a locust plague (Joel 1:13–14; 2:12). Forty days of fasting, an echo of Moses’ experience, prepared Jesus to face the devil’s temptations (Matt. 4:1–11 pars.).
The OT prophets criticized Israelites who presumed that their religious obligations were met simply by fasting (Isa. 58:1–10; Zech. 7:1–5). When asked why his disciples did not fast and pray, Jesus indicated that sometimes fasting is inappropriate (Matt. 9:14–17 pars.). Luke recorded an addition to Jesus’ statement about new wine in old wineskins: “No one after drinking old wine wants the new, for they say, ‘The old is better’” (Luke 5:39), perhaps suggesting that the accumulation of fasting practices was “new wine” and they ought simply to observe the Day of Atonement.
Biblically speaking, to forgive is less about changing feelings (emotions) and more about an actual restoration of a relationship. It is about making a wrong right, a process that usually is both costly and painful. To capture the biblical sense, the English word “pardon” may prove more helpful.
Forgiveness expresses the character of the merciful God, who eagerly pardons sinners who confess their sins, repent of their transgressions, and express this through proper actions. Forgiveness is never a matter of a human right; it is exclusively a gracious expression of God’s loving care. Human need for forgiveness stems from actions arising from their fallen nature. These actions (or nonactions), whether done deliberately or coincidentally, destroy people’s relationship with God and can be restored only by God’s forgiving mercy (Eph. 2:1).
Under the Mosaic covenant, sin placed offenders under God’s wrath among the ungodly. Rescue from this fate could be obtained by God’s forgiveness alone, which was attained through repentance and sacrifice. Although sacrifice was necessary to express true repentance, it is a mistake to consider it a payment that could purchase God’s forgiveness (1 Sam. 15:22; Prov. 21:3; Eccles. 5:1; Hos. 6:6). The forgiveness of God remains his free, undeserved gift.
Although the sacrificial system is done away with, or rather completed, through Christ (Heb. 10:12), NT teaching continues to recognize conditions for forgiveness. Since forgiveness restores relationship, the offender remains involved and must desire the restoration (Luke 13:3; 24:47; Acts 2:38). God does not grant his forgiveness without consideration of the offending party.
Jesus expresses this most clearly in the parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11 24). The son rebels against his father, squanders his wealth, and violates their relationship. The gracious and loving father remains willing to restore the relationship, but the reunion does not occur until the prodigal replaces rebellion with repentance; then, before he can even utter his sorrow, the eager father welcomes him back to a restored relationship. God remains free to forgive or not forgive, but, because of God’s nature and mercy, sinners can rest assured of God’s relationship-restoring forgiveness when they seek it in repentance. The forgiveness that God grants is full and restores things to an “as before” situation (cf. Ps. 103:12; Jer. 31:34), a point that the older son in the parable (Luke 15:25–32), who exemplifies religious self-righteousness, did not comprehend.
Holiness is an attribute of God and of all that is fit for association with him. God alone is intrinsically holy (Rev. 15:4). God the Father is holy (John 17:11), as is the Son (Acts 3:14), while “Holy” is the characteristic designation of God’s Spirit (Ps. 51:11; Matt. 1:18). God’s name is holy (Luke 1:49), as are his arm (Ps. 98:1), ways (Ps. 77:13), and words (Ps. 105:42).
With reference to God himself, holiness may indicate something like his uniqueness, and it is associated with attributes such as his glory (Isa. 6:3), righteousness (Isa. 5:16), and jealousy—that is, his proper concern for his reputation (Josh. 24:19).
God’s dwelling place is in heaven (Ps. 20:6), and “holy” functions in some contexts as a virtual equivalent for heavenly (11:4). God’s throne is holy (47:8), and the angels who surround it are “holy ones” (89:5; cf. Mark 8:38).
A corollary of God’s holiness is that he must be treated as holy (Lev. 22:32)—that is, honored (Lev. 10:3), worshiped (Ps. 96:9), and feared (Isa. 8:13).
While “holy” is sometimes said to mean “set apart,” this does not appear to be its core meaning, though it is an associated notion (Lev. 20:26; Heb. 7:26). Holiness, as applied to people and things, is a relational concept. They are (explicitly or implicitly) holy “to the Lord” (Exod. 28:36), never “from” something.
The symbolic representation of God’s heavenly palace, the tabernacle (Exod. 40:9), and later the temple (1 Chron. 29:3), and everything associated with them, are holy and the means whereby God’s people in the OT may symbolically be brought near to God. For God to share his presence with anything or anyone else, these too must be holy (Lev. 11:44 45; Heb. 12:14).
The OT system of worship involved the distinction between unclean and clean, and between common and holy, and the means of effecting a transition to a state of cleanness or holiness (Lev. 10:10). People, places, and items may be made holy by a process of consecration or sanctification, whether simply by God’s purifying presence (Exod. 3:5) or by ritual acts (Exod. 19:10; 29:36).
God’s faithful people are described as holy (Exod. 19:6; 1 Pet. 2:9). In the OT, this is true of the whole people of God at one level, and of particular individuals at another. Thus, kings (Ps. 16:10), prophets (2 Kings 4:9), and in particular priests (Lev. 21:7) are declared to be holy. While the OT witnesses to some tension between the collective holiness of Israel and the particular holiness of its designated leaders (Num. 16:3), the latter were intended to act as models and facilitators of Israel’s holiness.
At times simply indicating a wish (2 Cor. 11:1), in the Bible the word “hope” most often designates a disposition of soul, the grounds for one’s hope, or the outcome for which one hopes. At its core, biblical hope is hope in God, rooted in God’s covenant faithfulness (Ps. 62:5 8; Jer. 14:8; 17:13; Rom. 4:18; 5:1–5). Hope trusts God in the present and lives even now on the strength of God’s future accomplishments (Gal. 5:5; Heb. 11:1).
In the NT, hope is closely associated with Christ and his saving work. Christians now live by hope in Christ (Eph. 1:12; 1 Pet. 1:3; 3:15); indeed, he is “Christ Jesus our hope” (1 Tim. 1:1), and his future appearing is “the blessed hope” (Titus 2:13). Thus, hope refers to eschatological glory (2 Cor. 3:11–12; Eph. 1:18). It is “the hope of the resurrection” (Acts 23:6; cf. 24:15; 26:6–9), our transformation into Christ’s likeness (1 John 3:1–3). That expectation stimulates various hopes for God’s plans to be realized in one’s own or others’ lives (1 Cor. 9:10, 13; Phil. 2:19, 23; 2 Tim. 2:25; 2 John 12). So hope is named repeatedly as an essential Christian attribute (Rom. 12:12; 15:4, 13; 1 Cor. 13:13).
Sin enters the biblical story in Gen. 3. Despite God’s commandment to the contrary (2:16 17), Eve ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil at the prompting of the serpent. When Adam joined Eve in eating the fruit, their rebellion was complete. They attempted to cover their guilt and shame, but the fig leaves were inadequate. God confronted them and was unimpressed with their attempts to shift the blame. Judgment fell heavily on the serpent, Eve, and Adam; even creation itself was affected (3:17–18).
In the midst of judgment, God made it clear in two specific ways that sin did not have the last word. First, God cryptically promised to put hostility between the offspring of the serpent and that of the woman (Gen. 3:15). Although the serpent would inflict a severe blow upon the offspring of the woman, the offspring of the woman would defeat the serpent. Second, God replaced the inadequate covering of the fig leaves with animal skins (3:21). The implication is that the death of the animal functioned as a substitute for Adam and Eve, covering their sin.
In one sense, the rest of the OT hangs on this question: How will a holy God satisfy his wrath against human sin and restore his relationship with human beings without compromising his justice? The short answer is: through Abraham and his offspring (Gen. 12:1–3), who eventually multiplied into the nation of Israel. After God redeemed them from their slavery in Egypt (Exod. 1–15), he brought them to Sinai to make a covenant with them that was predicated on obedience (19:5–6). A central component of this covenant was the sacrificial system (e.g., Lev. 1–7), which God provided as a means of dealing with sin. In addition to the regular sacrifices made for sin throughout the year, God set apart one day a year to atone for Israel’s sins (Lev. 16). On this Day of Atonement the high priest took the blood of a goat into the holy of holies and sprinkled it on the mercy seat as a sin offering. Afterward he took a second goat and confessed “all the iniquities of the people of Israel, and all their transgressions, all their sins, putting them on the head of the goat, and sending it away into the wilderness. . . . The goat shall bear on itself all their iniquities to a barren region; and the goat shall be set free in the wilderness” (Lev. 16:21–22 NRSV). In order for the holy God to dwell with sinful people, extensive provisions had to be made to enable fellowship.
During the next four hundred years of prophetic silence, the longing for God to finally put away the sins of his people grew. At last, when the conception and birth of Jesus were announced, it was revealed that he would “save his people from their sins” (Matt. 1:21). In the days before the public ministry of Jesus, John the Baptist prepared the way for him by “preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Luke 3:3). Whereas both Adam and Israel were disobedient sons of God, Jesus proved to be the obedient Son by his faithfulness to God in the face of temptation (Matt. 2:13–15; 4:1–11; 26:36–46; Luke 3:23–4:13; Rom. 5:12–21; Phil. 2:8; Heb. 5:8–10). He was also the Suffering Servant who gave his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45; cf. Isa. 52:13–53:12). On the cross Jesus experienced the wrath of God that God’s people rightly deserved for their sin. With his justice fully satisfied, God was free to forgive and justify all who are identified with Christ by faith (Rom. 3:21–26). What neither the law nor the blood of bulls and goats could do, Jesus Christ did with his own blood (Rom. 8:3–4; Heb. 9:1–10:18).
After his resurrection and ascension, Jesus’ followers began proclaiming the “good news” (gospel) of what Jesus did and calling to people, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins” (Acts 2:38). As people began to experience God’s forgiveness, they were so transformed that they forgave those who sinned against them (Matt. 6:12; 18:15–20; Col. 3:13). Although believers continue to struggle with sin in this life (Rom. 8:12–13; Gal. 5:16–25), sin is no longer master over them (Rom. 6:1–23). The Holy Spirit empowers them to fight sin as they long for the new heaven and earth, where there will be no sin, no death, and no curse (Rom. 8:12–30; Rev. 21–22).
As even this very brief survey of the biblical story line from Genesis to Revelation shows, sin is a fundamental aspect of the Bible’s plot. Sin generates the conflict that drives the biblical narrative; it is the fundamental “problem” that must be solved in order for God’s purposes in creation to be completed.
In the OT there is no language or understanding comparable to modern ways of talking about prayer as conversational or dialogical. Prayer does not involve mutuality. Prayer is something that humans offer to God, and the situation is never reversed; God does not pray to humans. Understanding this preserves the proper distinction between the sovereign God and the praying subject. Therefore, prayers in the OT are reverential. Some OT prayers have extended introductions, such as that found in Neh. 1:5, that seem to pile up names for God. These should be seen as instances not of stiltedness or ostentation, but rather as setting up a kind of “buffer zone” in recognition of the distance between the Creator and the creature. In the NT, compare the same phenomenon in Eph. 1:17.
A presupposition of prayer in the OT is that God hears prayer and may indeed answer and effect the change being requested. Prayer is not primarily about changing the psychological state or the heart of the one praying, but rather about God changing the circumstances of the one praying.
The depiction of prayer in the NT is largely consistent with that of the OT, but there are important developments.
Jesus tells his disciples to address God as “Father” (Matt. 6:9; cf. Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6). Prayer to God is now to be made in the name of Jesus (Matt. 18:19 20; John 14:13; 15:16; 16:23–26).
Prayer can also be made to Jesus (John 14:14), and such devotion to him in the early church is evidence of his being regarded as deity. Unlike anything prior in the OT, Jesus tells his followers to pray for their enemies (Matt. 5:44). Jesus and his followers serve as examples (Luke 23:34; Acts 7:60).
The Holy Spirit plays a vital role in prayers. It is by him that we are able to call out, “Abba, Father” (Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6). The Spirit himself intercedes for us (Rom. 8:26). Our praying is to be done in the Spirit (Eph. 6:18; Jude 20; possibly 1 Cor. 14:15).
Jesus encourages fervent and even continual or repeated prayer (Luke 18:1–8), but not showy or repetitive prayer (Matt. 6:5–8).
Jesus becomes the model of prayer. He prays before important decisions (Luke 6:12–13) and in connection with significant crisis points (Matt. 14:23; 26:36–44; Luke 3:21; 9:29; John 12:27). He offers prayers that are not answered (Luke 22:41–44) and prayers that are (Heb. 5:7). Even as he tells his disciples to always pray and not give up (Luke 18:1 [which is also the meaning of the sometimes overly literalized “pray without ceasing” in 1 Thess. 5:17 NRSV]), so he himself wrestles in prayer (Luke 22:41–44; Heb. 5:7). He has prayed for his disciples (John 17; Luke 22:32), and even now, in heaven, he still intercedes for us (Heb. 7:25). Indeed, our intercession before God’s throne is valid because his is (Heb. 4:14–16).
Righteousness is an important theme in both Testaments of the Bible. The concept includes faithfulness, justice, uprightness, correctness, loyalty, blamelessness, purity, salvation, and innocence. Because the theme is related to justification, it has important implications for the doctrine of salvation.
Being careful to avoid imposing Western philosophical categories onto OT texts, we may say that the core idea of righteousness is conformity to God’s person and will in moral uprightness, justness, justice, integrity, and faithfulness. Behind the many and varied uses of righteousness language in the OT stands the presupposition that God himself is righteous in the ultimate sense (e.g., Ezra 9:15; Isa. 45:21; Zeph. 3:5). Righteousness is the expression of his holiness in relationship to others (Isa. 5:16), and all other nuances of righteousness in the biblical texts are derived from this.
Related to humans, righteousness is often found as the opposite of wickedness. Righteousness often occurs in evaluative contexts, where it relates to proper conduct with respect to God, the order of the world as he created it, the covenant, or law (e.g., Deut. 6:25). God reigns in righteousness and justice (e.g., Ps. 97:2), and humans should align their conduct with this righteous reign. Righteousness can be expressed as personal integrity with phrases such as “my righteousness” (2 Sam. 22:21, 25; Ps. 7:8) and “their righteousness” (1 Sam. 26:23). Unrighteousness is found in poetic parallel to injustice (e.g., Jer. 22:13); the unjust are parallel with the wicked (Ps. 82:2).
Righteousness language is more rare in the Gospels than one might expect in light of OT and Jewish intertestamental usage. These references fit with the Jewish setting: righteousness is required of God’s people, and unrighteousness is to be avoided. Righteousness is proper conduct with respect to God or Torah (Matt. 21:32) in contrast to wickedness (Matt. 13:49). Righteousness could be conceived as one’s own (e.g., Luke 18:9) and has its reward (Matt. 10:41). While the specific terms related to righteousness are infrequent in the Gospels, the broader concept of conformity to God’s will is widely apparent in calls for repentance, personal moral uprightness, mercy, and concern for the marginalized. The NT Epistles continue these general strands of the concept. Righteousness is related to personal conduct (1 Thess. 2:10; 1 Tim. 6:11; 2 Tim. 2:22; 1 Pet. 2:24) and is contrasted with wickedness (2 Cor. 6:14); it is a matter of doing, not knowing (Rom. 2:13). An example of righteousness in doing is the kindness shown by the prostitute Rahab, who hid the Israelite spies (James 2:25).
The NT does signal some new dimensions related to righteousness. In the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5 7), Jesus extends the requirements of righteousness to conformity to his own teaching and directives, a shocking display of authority. In his mission to call sinners rather than the “righteous” (e.g., Mark 2:17), Jesus implicitly questions the righteousness of the “righteous.” In similar manner, personal righteousness in terms of a righteousness of one’s own is negative in the NT (Rom. 10:3; Phil. 3:6; cf. Luke 18:9).
The NT continues the OT theme of righteousness as it relates to God himself. God is righteous (John 17:25; Rom. 3:5; 9:14; Heb. 6:10; cf. Matt. 6:33). His judgments are righteous (Rom. 2:5), and his commands and laws are righteous (Rom. 7:12; 8:4). God is a righteous judge (2 Tim. 4:8). His saving activity is righteous; he does not compromise his own justice in justifying the ungodly (Rom. 3:24–26). The righteousness of God is contrasted with human unrighteousness and wickedness (Rom. 3:5; James 1:20). Since God reigns over creation in righteousness, human conduct should conform to that standard (e.g., Rom. 14:17). Jesus is also noted as righteous (Acts 3:14; 7:52; 22:14; 1 Pet. 3:18; 1 John 2:1, 29). He fulfilled righteousness in the absolute sense of demonstrating complete conformity to the nature and will of God (e.g., 1 Pet. 3:18). He also fulfilled God’s righteousness in the sense of his saving activity toward humans (e.g., 2 Pet. 1:1).
“Salvation” is the broadest term used to refer to God’s actions to solve the plight brought about by humankind’s sinful rebellion and its consequences. It is one of the central themes of the entire Bible, running from Genesis through Revelation.
In many places in the OT, salvation refers to being rescued from physical rather than spiritual trouble. Fearing the possibility of retribution from his brother Esau, Jacob prays, “Save me, I pray, from the hand of my brother Esau” (Gen. 32:11). The actions of Joseph in Egypt saved many from famine (45:5 7; 47:25; 50:20). Frequently in the psalms, individuals pray for salvation from enemies that threaten one’s safety or life (Pss. 17:14; 18:3; 70:1–3; 71:1–4; 91:1–3).
Related to this usage are places where the nation of Israel and/or its king were saved from enemies. The defining example of this is the exodus, whereby God delivered his people from their enslavement to the Egyptians, culminating in the destruction of Pharaoh and his army (Exod. 14:1–23). From that point forward in the history of Israel, God repeatedly saved Israel from its enemies, whether through a judge (e.g., Judg. 2:16; 3:9), a king (2 Kings 14:27), or even a shepherd boy (1 Sam. 17:1–58).
But these examples of national deliverance had a profound spiritual component as well. God did not save his people from physical danger as an end in itself; it was the necessary means for his plan to save them from their sins. The OT recognizes the need for salvation from sin (Pss. 39:8; 51:14; 120:2) but, as the NT makes evident, does not provide a final solution (Heb. 9:1–10:18). One of the clearest places that physical and spiritual salvation come together is Isa. 40–55, where Judah’s exile from the land and prophesied return are seen as the physical manifestation of the much more fundamental spiritual exile that resulted from sin. To address that far greater reality, God announces the day when the Suffering Servant would once and for all take away the sins of his people (Isa. 52:13–53:12).
As in the OT, the NT has places where salvation refers to being rescued from physical difficulty. Paul, for example, speaks of being saved from various physical dangers, including execution (2 Cor. 1:8–10; Phil. 1:19; 2 Tim. 4:17). In the midst of a fierce storm, Jesus’ disciples cry out, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!” (Matt. 8:25). But far more prominent are the places in the Gospels and Acts where physical healings are described with the verb sōzō, used to speak of salvation from sin. The healing of the woman with the hemorrhage (Mark 5:25–34), the blind man along the road (Luke 18:35–43), and even the man possessed by a demon (Luke 8:26–39), just to name a few, are described with the verb sōzō. The same verb, however, is also used to refer to Jesus forgiving someone’s sins (Luke 7:36–50) and to his mission to save the lost from their sins (Luke 19:10). Such overlap is a foretaste of the holistic salvation (physical and spiritual) that will be completed in the new heaven and earth (Rev. 21–22). The NT Epistles give extensive descriptions of how the work of Jesus Christ saves his people from their sins.
Binding promises made to God while awaiting God’s help (Gen. 28:20; Num. 21:2; 1 Sam. 1:11). When God’s answer comes, worshipers fulfill their vows by performing what they have promised (1 Sam. 1:21; Acts 21:23 24).
Mosaic regulations address how and by whom vows are to be implemented (e.g., Lev. 7:16; 22:17–25; 23:38; 27:2–11; Num. 30; Deut. 12:5–28), including the “Nazirite vow” of radical separation to God (Num. 6:1–21; cf. Judg. 13:2–5; Acts 18:18). Lament psalms connect vows with the outcry to God and portray their fulfillment in thank offerings that respond to God’s deliverance (Pss. 50:14–15; 56:12–13; 66:13–15; cf. Job 22:27; Jon. 2:9). Since vows are intended to distinguish God’s faithful worshipers (e.g., Ps. 116:14, 17–18), Scripture condemns rash or unfulfilled vows (Num. 30:2; Deut. 23:21–23; Prov. 20:25; Eccles. 5:5–6; cf. Judg. 11:30–39). Some vows are made insincerely (2 Sam. 15:7–8; Prov. 7:14) or to idols (Jer. 44:25).
Water is mentioned extensively in the Bible due to its prevalence in creation and its association with life and purity. The cosmic waters of Gen. 1 are held back by the sky (Gen. 1:6 7; cf. Pss. 104:6, 13; 148:4). God is enthroned on these waters in his cosmic temple (Pss. 29:10; 104:3, 13; cf. Gen. 1:2; Ps. 78:69; Isa. 66:1). These same waters were released in the time of Noah (Gen. 7:10–12; Ps. 104:7–9).
Water is also an agent of life and fertility and is therefore associated with the presence of God. Both God himself and his temple are described as the source of life-giving water (Jer. 2:13; 17:13; Joel 3:18; cf. Isa. 12:2–3). Ezekiel envisions this water flowing from beneath the temple and streaming down into the Dead Sea, where it brings life and fecundity (Ezek. 47:1–12; cf. Zech. 14:8). The book of Revelation, employing the same image, describes “the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb” (22:1). This imagery is also illustrated in archaeological remains associated with temples. Cisterns are attested beneath the Dome of the Rock (presumably the location of the Jerusalem temple) and beneath the Judahite temple at Arad. Other temples, such as the Israelite high place at Tel Dan, are located close to freshwater springs. The Gihon spring in the City of David may also be associated with the Jerusalem temple (Ps. 46:4; cf. Gen. 2:13).
This OT imagery forms the background for Jesus’ teaching regarding eternal life in the writings of the apostle John. Jesus claims to be the source of living water, and he offers it freely to everyone who thirsts (John 4:10–15; 7:37; Rev. 21:6; 22:17; cf. Rev. 7:17). This water, which produces “a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:14), is the work of the Holy Spirit in the believer (John 7:38–39).
Water is also described in the Bible as an agent of cleansing. It is extensively employed in purification rituals in the OT. In the NT, the ritual of water baptism signifies the purity and new life of the believer (Matt. 3:11, 16; Mark 1:8–10; Luke 3:16; John 1:26, 31–33; 3:23; Acts 1:5; 8:36–39; 10:47; 11:16; 1 Pet. 3:20–21; cf. Eph. 5:26; Heb. 10:22).
Finally, the NT also reveals Jesus as the Lord of water. He walks on water (Matt. 14:28–29; John 6:19), turns water into wine (John 2:7–9; 4:46), and controls water creatures (Matt. 17:27; John 21:6). Most important, Jesus commands “the winds and the water, and they obey him” (Luke 8:25; cf. Ps. 29:3).
Because Scripture sees all things as providentially arranged and sustained by God’s sovereign power at all times (Heb. 1:3), miracles are not aberrations in an otherwise closed and mechanical universe. Nor are miracles raw demonstrations of divinity designed to overcome prejudice or unbelief and to convince people of the existence of God (Mark 8:11 12). Still less are they clever conjuring tricks involving some kind of deception that can be otherwise explained on a purely scientific basis. Rather, God in his infinite wisdom sometimes does unusual and extraordinary things to call attention to himself and his activity. Miracles are divinely ordained acts of God that dramatically alert us to the presence of his glory and power and advance his saving purposes in redemptive history.
In the OT, miracles are not evenly distributed but rather are found in greater number during times of great redemptive significance, such as the exodus and the conquest of Canaan. Miracles were performed also during periods of apostasy, such as in the days of the ninth-century prophets Elijah and Elisha. Common to both of these eras is the powerful demonstration of the superiority of God over pagan deities (Exod. 7–12; 1 Kings 18:20–40).
In the NT, miracles often are acts of compassion, but more significantly they attest the exalted status of Jesus of Nazareth (Acts 2:22) and the saving power of his word (Heb. 2:3–4). In the Synoptic Gospels, they reveal the coming of God’s kingdom and the conquest of Satan’s dominion (Matt. 8:16–17; 12:22–30; Mark 3:27). They point to the person of Jesus as the promised Messiah of OT Scripture (Matt. 4:23; 11:4–6). John shows a preference for the word “signs,” and his Gospel is structured around them (John 20:30–31). According to John, the signs that Jesus performed were such that only the one who stood in a unique relationship to the Father as the Son of God could do them.
Just as entrenched skepticism is injurious to faith, so too is naive credulity, for although signs and wonders witness to God, false prophets also perform them “to deceive, if possible, even the elect” (Matt. 24:24). Christians are to exercise discernment and not be led astray by such impostors (Matt. 7:15–20).
The relationship between miracles and faith is not as straightforward as sometimes supposed. Miracles do not necessarily produce faith, nor does faith necessarily produce miracles. Miracles were intended to bring about the faith that leads to eternal life (John 20:31), but not all who witnessed them believed (John 10:32). Additionally, Jesus regarded a faith that rested only on the miracle itself as precarious (Mark 8:11–13; John 2:23–25; 4:48), though better than no faith at all (John 10:38). Faith that saves must ultimately find its grounding in the person of Jesus as the Son of God.
It is also clear that although Jesus always encouraged faith in those who came to him for help (Mark 9:23), and that he deliberately limited his miraculous powers in the presence of unbelief (Mark 6:5), many of his miracles were performed on those who did not or could not exercise faith (Matt. 12:22; Mark 1:23–28; 5:1–20; Luke 14:1–4).
The fact that Jesus performed miracles was never an issue; rather, his opponents disputed the source of his power (Mark 3:22). Arguments about his identity were to be settled by appeal not to miracles but to the word of God (Matt. 22:41–46).
Jerusalem was held by the Jebusites, who mocked David’s forces. But David captured the city, which from then on bore the title “City of David,” also called “fortress of Zion” (2 Sam. 5:5 9). David made it his capital. Later, Solomon built the temple there, making it also the religious center of the nation (1 Kings 8:1–14). “Zion” (of uncertain meaning) sometimes is a designation for the city of Jerusalem. It is said to have towers, ramparts, and citadels (Ps. 48:12–13), and Jeremiah prophesied its razing (Jer. 26:18). But it is also a designation for the mountain on which the city is built (Isa. 24:23; Zech. 8:3).
Since the God of Israel has a special relationship with Israel and its king, God’s purposes for the world often are couched in terms of Mount Zion. God set his king on Mount Zion (Ps. 2:6). The psalmist praises God, who has established Zion “forever” (Ps. 48:1–8). It is there that God is said to reign (Isa. 24:23). Nevertheless, the king on David’s throne and the inhabitants of Zion can be censured by God and found wanting (Amos 6:1). In fact, it is precisely because God identifies with the city that the people bear particular responsibility to represent his character. Thus, the time came when Zion was indeed “plowed like a field” (Mic. 3:12). Lamentations mourns Zion’s destruction numerous times. After God’s people spent a period of time in exile, God brought them back to Zion (Ps. 126). Although the ancient city was again destroyed by the Romans, Zion has become in the NT a symbol of the present heavenly dwelling place of God, entered into by faith (Heb. 12:22), and the future destiny of the saints (Rev. 14:1).
Direct Matches
The English word “atonement” comes from an Anglo-Saxon word, “onement,” with the preposition “at”; thus “at-onement,” or “at unity.” In some ways this word has more in common with the idea of reconciliation than our modern concept of atonement, which, while having “oneness” as its result, emphasizes rather the idea of how that unity is achieved, by someone “atone-ing” for a wrong or wrongs done. Atonement, in Christian theology, concerns how Christ achieved this “onement” between God and sinful humanity.
The need for atonement comes from the separation that has come about between God and humanity because of sin. In both Testaments there is the understanding that God has distanced himself from his creatures on account of their rebellion. Isaiah tells the people of Judah, “Your iniquities have separated you from your God” (59:2). And Paul talks about how we were “God’s enemies” (Rom. 5:10). So atonement is the means provided by God to effect reconciliation. The atonement is required on account of God’s holiness and justice.
Old Testament
In the OT, the sacrificial system was the means by which sins were atoned for, ritual purity was restored, iniquities were forgiven, and an amicable relationship between God and the offerer of the sacrifice was reestablished. Moses tells the Israelites that God has given them the blood of the sacrificial animals “to make atonement for yourselves on the altar; it is the blood that makes atonement for one’s life” (Lev. 17:11). In essence, this is the basic operating principle for atonement in the OT—the offering of the blood of a slaughtered animal in place of the life of the offerer. However, there have been significant scholarly debates regarding whether this accurately portrays the ancient Israelite understanding of atonement.
The meaning of “to atone.” First, there is disagreement over the precise meaning of the Hebrew word kapar (“to atone”). Among the more popular suggestions are these: to cover, to remove, to wipe out, to appease, to make amends, to redeem or ransom, to forgive, and to avert/divert. Of late, one very influential theory is that atonement has little or nothing to do with the individual offerer, but serves only to purify the tabernacle or temple and the furniture within from the impurities that attach to them on account of the community’s sin. This theory, though most probably correct in what it affirms, unnecessarily restricts the effects of atonement to the tabernacle and furniture. There are, to be sure, texts that specifically mention atonement being made for the altar (e.g., Exod. 29:36–37; Lev. 8:15). But the repeated affirmation for most of the texts in Leviticus and Numbers is that the atonement is made for the offerer (e.g., Lev. 1:4; 4:20, 26); atonement results in forgiveness of sin for the one bringing the offering. As far as the precise meaning of kapar is concerned, it may be that some of the suggested meanings overlap and that a particular concept is more prevalent in some passages, and another one in others.
There has also been debate over the significance of the offerer laying a hand on the head of the sacrificial animal (e.g., Lev. 1:4; 3:2). This has traditionally been understood as an identification of the offerer with the sacrifice and a transference of the offerer’s sins to the sacrifice. Recently this has been disputed and the argument made instead that it only signifies that the animal does indeed belong to the offerer, who therefore has the right to offer it. But again, this is unduly restrictive; it should rather be seen as complementary to what has traditionally been understood by this gesture. Indeed, in the rite for the Day of Atonement, when the priest lays his hands on the one goat, confesses Israel’s sin and wickedness, and in doing so is said to be putting them on the goat’s head (Lev. 16:21), this would seem to affirm the correctness of the traditional understanding. The sacrifice is thus best seen as substitutionary: it takes the place of the offerer; it dies in his stead.
The relationship between God and the offerer. Second, granted that the word kapar has to do with the forgiveness of sins, the question arises as to the exact effect that it has on the relationship between God and the offerer. The question here is whether the effect is expiation or propitiation. Does the offering expiate the sin—wipe it out, erase it, remove it? Or does it propitiate the one to whom the sacrifice is offered? That is, does it appease and placate God, so that the threat of God’s wrath is removed? In one respect, the distinction seems artificial; it seems logical that expiation naturally results in propitiation. On the other hand, the modern-day tendency to deny that God could possibly be a God of wrath makes the question relevant. In any case, there are certainly, in both religious and nonreligious contexts, passages where something like “appease” or “pacify” appears to be a proper rendering of kapar (Gen. 32:20; Exod. 32:30; Num. 16:46–47; 25:1–13; 1 Sam. 3:14). The effect of atonement is that sins are removed and forgiven, and God is appeased.
In conjunction with this last point, it is also important to note that there are a number of places where it is said that God does the kapar, that God is the one who makes atonement. Deuteronomy 21:8 calls upon God, literally, to “atone [NIV: “accept this atonement”] for your people, Israel.” In Deut. 32:43 God will “make atonement for his land and people.” Psalm 65:3 (ESV) states that God “atone[s] for our transgressions” (ESV). Hezekiah prays in 2 Chron. 30:18, “May the Lord, who is good, pardon [atone for] everyone.” In Ps. 78:38 (ESV), God is said to have “atoned” for Israel’s iniquity. Psalm 79:9 (ESV) asks God to “atone for our sins for your name’s sake.” In Isa. 43:3 kapar is translated as “ransom,” and God says to Israel that he gave “Egypt for your ransom.” In Ezek. 16:63 God declares that he will “make atonement” for all the sins that Israel has committed. It may be that in most of these passages “atone” is to be understood as a synonym of “forgive.” However, as many commentators have noted, in at least some of these passages, the thought is that God is either being called upon to take or is taking upon himself the role of high priest, atoning for the sins of the people. It is important to remember God’s declaration in Lev. 17:11 that he has given to the Israelites the blood of the sacrificial animals to make atonement for their sins. Atonement, no matter how it is conceived of or carried out, is a gift that God graciously grants to his covenant people.
That leads to a consideration of one particularly relevant passage, Isa. 52:13–53:12. In this text a figure referred to as “my [the Lord’s] servant” (52:13) is described as one who “took up our pain and bore our suffering” (53:4). He was “pierced for our transgressions” and “crushed for our iniquities” (53:5). “The Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all” (53:6). And then we are told, “Yet it was the Lord’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer,” and that “the Lord makes his life an offering for sin [NASB: “guilt offering”]” (53:10). There are many issues with regard to the proper interpretation of this “Servant Song” (as it is often called), one of them being whether the term translated “guilt offering” should really be thought of along the lines of the guilt offering described in the book of Leviticus (5:14–6:7; 7:1–10). But if the traditional Christian understanding of this passage is correct, we have here a picture of God himself assuming the role of priest and atoning for the sins of his people by placing their iniquities and sins on his servant, a figure regarded by Jesus and the apostles in the NT to be God’s very own son, Christ Jesus.
New Testament
The relationship between the Testaments. When we come to the NT, four very important initial points should be made.
First, God’s wrath against sin and sinners is just as much a NT consideration as an OT one. God still considers those who are sinful and unrighteous to be his “enemies” (Rom. 5:10; Col. 1:21). Wrath and punishment await those who do not confess Jesus Christ as Lord (John 3:36; Rom. 2:5; Eph. 2:3). Atonement is the means of averting this wrath.
Second, salvation is promised to those who come to God by faith in Christ Jesus, but there is still the problem of how God can, at the same time, be “just” himself and yet also be the one who “justifies” sinners and declares them righteous (Rom. 3:26). God will not simply declare sinners to be justified unless his own justness is also upheld. Atonement is the way by which God is both just and justifier.
Third, as we saw in the OT that, ultimately, God is the one who atones, so also in the NT God is the one who provides the means for atonement. It is by his gracious initiative that atonement becomes possible. If Jesus’ death is the means by which atonement is achieved, it is God himself who “presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement” (Rom. 3:25). It was God himself who “so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son” (John 3:16). God himself “sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins” (1 John 4:10). God “did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all” (Rom. 8:32). Additionally, Christ himself was not an unwilling victim; he was actively involved in the accomplishing of atonement by his death (Luke 9:31; John 10:15–18; Heb. 9:14).
Fourth, the atoning sacrifice of the Son was necessary because, ultimately, the OT sacrifices could not really have provided the necessary atonement: “it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (Heb. 10:4).
Portrayals of Christ’s work of atonement. It has become common of late to refer to the different “images” or “metaphors” of atonement that appear in the NT. This is understandable on one level, but on another level there is something misleading about it. So, for example, when the NT authors speak of Christ as a sacrifice for sin, it is not at all clear that they intend for the reader to take this as imagery. Rather, Christ really is a sacrifice, offered by God the Father, to take away sins, and to bear in his own body the penalty that should have been placed on the sinner. Christ’s sacrifice has an organic connection to the OT sacrificial system, as the “full, final sacrifice.” The author of Hebrews would not have considered this to be imagery. In fact, a better case could be made that, from his perspective, Christ was the real sacrifice, and all the instances of sacrifice in the OT were the imagery (Heb. 10:1). So as we look at the different portrayals of Christ in his work of atonement in the NT, some of these may best be categorized as imagery or metaphor, while others perhaps are better described as a “facet” of, or a “window” on, the atonement. It should also be noted that the individual portrayals do not exclude the others, and in some cases they overlap.
• Ransom. Some passages in the NT speak of Christ’s death as a ransom paid to set us free (Matt. 20:28; Mark 10:45; 1 Tim. 2:6; Heb. 9:15). The same Greek word translated “ransom” in these passages is rendered as “redeem” or “redemption” in other passages (Eph. 1:7; Col. 1:14). Other forms of the same word are also translated “redeem” or “redemption” in Gal. 3:13–14; 4:5; Titus 2:14; Heb. 9:12; 1 Pet. 1:18–19; Rev. 14:3. A near synonym of these words is used in Rev. 5:9; 14:4, referring to how Christ “purchased” people by his blood. In most of these cases the picture is that of slaves who have been ransomed, redeemed, or purchased from the slave market. Sometimes this is referred to as an “economic” view of atonement, though this label seems a bit crass, for the purchase is not of a commodity but of human lives at the expense of Christ’s own life and blood. To ask the question as to whom the ransom was paid is probably taking the picture too far. But those who are ransomed are redeemed from a life of slavery to sin and to the law.
• Curse bearer. In Gal. 3:13–14, noted above, there is also the picture of Christ as one who bore the curse of the law in our place. The language is especially striking because rather than saying that Christ bore the curse, Paul says that Christ became “a curse.” This is an especially forceful way of saying that Christ fully took into his own person the curse that was meant for us.
• Penalty bearer. Closely related to “curse bearer,” this portrayal depicts Christ as one who has borne the legal consequences of our sins, consequences that we should have suffered; rather, because Christ has borne the penalty, we are now declared to be righteous and no longer subject to condemnation. This idea stands behind much of the argumentation that Paul uses in Romans and Galatians, and it also intersects with the other portrayals. Passages representative of this picture are Rom. 3:24–26; 4:25; 5:8–21; 8:32–34; Gal. 3:13–14; Eph. 2:15. It is also what should be understood by Peter’s description of Christ’s death as “the just for the unjust” in 1 Pet. 3:18 (NASB, NET), as well as in 2 Cor. 5:21, where Paul states that Christ has become “sin for us” so that we might become the “righteousness of God.”
• Propitiation. There are four passages where the NIV uses “atonement” or “atoning” in the translation to reflect either the Greek verb hilaskomai or related nouns hilastērion or hilasmos. This is the word group that the LXX regularly uses to translate the Hebrew verb kapar and related nouns. There has been much debate about the precise meaning of the word in these four NT texts, in particular, as to whether it means to “expiate” (“remove guilt”) or to “propitiate” (“appease” or “avert wrath”). The better arguments have been advanced in favor of “propitiate”; at the very least, propitiation is implied in expiation. The wrath that we should have suffered on account of our sins has been suffered by Jesus Christ instead. Although the specific word is not used, this is the understanding as well in those passages where it is said either that Christ died “for our sins” (1 Cor. 15:3), “gave himself for our sins” (Gal. 1:4), “bore our sins” (1 Pet. 2:24), or that his blood was poured out “for the forgiveness of sins” (Matt. 26:28; cf. Eph. 1:7).
• Passover. In 1 Cor. 5:7 Paul states that “Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed.” Although the Passover has not traditionally been thought of as a sacrifice for sin (though many scholars would argue that it was), at the very least we should recognize a substitutionary concept at play in Paul’s use of the Passover idea. A lamb died so that the firstborn would not. The Gospel of John seems to have the same understanding. Early in the Gospel, Jesus is proclaimed as the “Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). And then in his account of Jesus’ passion, John narrates that his crucifixion was precisely at the same time as the slaying of the Passover lambs (John 19:14).
• Sacrifice. This theme has already been touched on in the other portraits above, but it is important to recognize the significance of this concept in the NT and especially in the book of Hebrews. There, Christ is portrayed as both sacrifice and the high priest who offers the sacrifice (2:17; 7:27; 9:11–28; 10:10–21; 12:24). He came, not as some have argued, to show the uselessness of the sacrificial system, but rather to be the “full, final sacrifice” within that system, “that he might make atonement for the sins of the people” (2:17).
Of course, it is not just the death of Christ that secures our redemption. His entire earthly life, as well as his resurrection and heavenly intercessory work, must also be recognized. But with regard to the work of atonement per se, Christ’s earthly life, his sinless “active obedience,” is what qualifies him to be the perfect sacrifice. His resurrection is the demonstration of God’s acceptance of Christ’s sacrifice (he “was raised to life for our justification” [Rom. 4:25]). But it was particularly his death that provided atonement for our sins.
An arid environment challenging to life. Desert comprises about a third of the earth’s land surface, often overtaking verdant areas and squeezing human beings and animals into narrower oases. The deserts of the Bible—Negev, Sinai, Paran, and Zin—are part of the greater Saharo-Arabian desert system, the largest and driest in the world. Most of the land east (areas of present-day Jordan, Iraq, Saudi Arabia) and south (Egypt) of Palestine is desert. However, the desert experience of most Israelites was not vast sands but rather arid environments that could otherwise flourish with sufficient water. In this regard, the biblical “wilderness” and “desert” semantically overlap, but they are not the same environments.
With average precipitation of ten inches or less, these regions typically have sparse vegetation and little or no agriculture (Jer. 2:2). Pliny the Elder (AD 23/24–79) describes the Essenes, who lived near the Dead Sea, as having only “the company of palm trees” (Nat. 5.73). Temperatures are severe, often exceeding 110°F on summer days, but also falling below freezing on winter nights. The limited winter rains provide short-lived grass for grazing (1 Sam. 17:28; Ps. 65:13; Jer. 23:10), along with thorns and briers (Judg. 8:7). Cisterns were dug to collect the precious rain (Gen. 37:22).
The severity of the environment is not conducive for animal and human life. The Bible mentions wild asses (Job 24:5; Jer. 48:6), jackals (Mal. 1:3), ostriches (Lam. 4:3), owls (Ps. 102:7), poisonous snakes (Isa. 30:6), panthers, and wolves (Hab. 1:8). The desert came to be viewed as the haunt of demons (Matt. 12:43) but also as a place for spiritual refreshment. By definition, a desert is untouched by human hands. The patterns and sounds go back to God, not the noisy neighbors of urban life. The desert therefore can facilitate communion with God because of the absence of distractions and the inevitable deepening awareness of the fragility of existence. Scarcity of resources also requires communal sharing and cooperation for survival.
Instead of in major urban centers in Mesopotamia, Egypt, and Palestine, the Bible presents God as training people in the desert by testing their faith, beginning with the patriarchs (Gen. 12–50). God redeems Israel out of Egypt into the desert (Exod. 15:22; 16:1; 17:1), leading them to Sinai (Exod. 18:5; 19:1–2) and then a forty-year sojourn (Num. 14:33; 32:13; Deut. 2:7). Following seasons of testing, concerning which the people routinely fail, God provides freshwater and manna, the “grain of heaven” (Ps. 78:24). However, except on the Sabbath, people are not allowed to store the food but must cultivate complete dependence upon God’s provision for their daily bread. Elijah flees into the wilderness and is provided for by an angel (1 Kings 19:1–8). He returns to Mount Sinai (Horeb) and experiences the immediate presence of God in a “thin silence” (1 Kings 19:8–13; NIV: “gentle whisper”).
This pattern is repeated in the NT, beginning with John the Baptist, who dresses like a desert nomad and subsists on locusts and wild honey—foods near at hand and not subject to agricultural tithing (Matt. 3:4; Mark 1:6). After John’s baptism, Jesus departs into the wilderness, where he fasts and is tempted for forty days and nights among the wild beasts but is also provided for by angels (Matt. 4:1–11 pars.). Paul, after his experience on the road to Damascus, departs into Arabia (Nabatea, present-day Jordan), the place “where the nomads live” and the traditional site of Mount Sinai (Pliny the Elder, Nat. 5.72; Gal. 1:17; 4:25). (Damascus, perhaps the oldest city in the world, is an oasis bordering the Arabian Desert on a highway connecting Egypt with Mesopotamia.) The author of Revelation depicts a woman, who represents the people of God, fleeing into the wilderness to escape the red dragon, Satan (Rev. 12:1–6).
A lush area of grassland or a piece of low ground near a river. The KJV uses the term at Gen. 41:2, 18, where the reference is to the tall, reedy grass near the banks of the Nile River, as well as in Judg. 20:33 in reference to the “meadows of Gibeah.” Modern translations use “meadow(s)” when referring to a pleasant, grassy place (Isa. 44:4; Jer. 25:37; cf. Hos. 9:13), often a metaphor for the blessing of God. Although this word may refer to a place where animals graze (Ps. 65:13; Isa. 30:23; Hos. 4:16), it is used in Scripture much less frequently than the word “pasture.”
The word “providence” comes from the Latin word providentia, which means “foresight.” However, the modern theological use of the term refers not to foresight or foreknowl-edge per se but rather to how God continues to sustain and guide his creation. There is no single term in either the OT or the NT that translates as “providence.” The one time the word occurs in the NIV (Job 10:12), the Hebrew word (peqqudah) is one that the NIV in other places usually translates with words such as “care,” “charge,” or “oversight.” The concept of divine providence comes not from any one word but rather from numerous statements in the Bible that speak of God’s continuing supervision of his world. The biblical data can perhaps best be organized under four headings: created order, world history, salvation history, and individual history. These headings are, however, not discrete; they continually intersect.
Created Order
Scripture testifies in numerous places to God’s ongoing supervision of his creation. The psalms play a special role here. As one commentator has remarked, there are no nature lyrics in the psalms, only admiration and awe at how God runs his world. God actively cares for the land and waters it, causes grass to grow, plants trees, and makes sure that they are well watered (Pss. 65:9; 104:14, 16). God brings darkness on the land and tells the sun when to set and when to rise (Ps. 104:19–20). God is the zookeeper who makes sure all the animals are fed (Ps. 104:27). Every birth of every living creature is regarded as a new creative work of God, and he constantly renews the face of the earth (Ps. 104:30).
God blankets the earth with snow and lays down a sheet of frost (Ps. 147:16). When the snow and frost melt, it is because God commanded it by his word and sent breezes to make the melting waters flow (Ps. 147:18). Hail, snow, clouds, and stormy winds do their Master’s bidding (Ps. 148:8). God commands the morning to dawn and keeps the snow and hail in storehouses, ready to be deployed on the day of battle (Job 38:12, 22–23). The sea waves roar because God stirs them up (Jer. 31:35). God even speaks of being in a covenant relationship with his creation (Jer. 33:20, 25).
In the NT, we find that Jesus Christ himself sustains “all things by his powerful word” (Heb. 1:3). In him “all things hold together” (Col. 1:17).
World History
What happens on the world scene is under God’s sovereign control. If the nations are scattered over the world and speak different languages, it is because God made it so (Gen. 11:1–9). God determines whether the nations are blessed or cursed (Gen. 12:3). God is the one who has apportioned each nation’s inher-i-tance and has established their boundaries (Deut. 32:8). Yahweh is the God of Israel, which is his special possession, but he has also appointed deities for the other nations to worship (Deut. 4:19 [evidently false gods, but still under Yahweh’s sovereignty]). He judges the world and carries out justice for the peoples, foils the plans of the nations, forms the hearts of all people, reigns over the nations and guides them (Pss. 9:8; 33:10, 15; 47:8; 67:4).
It is by God’s sanction that kings reign, and a king’s heart is like a watercourse, which God can redirect at will (Prov. 8:15; 21:1). God “does as he pleases with the powers of heaven and the peoples of the earth” (Dan. 4:35). All thrones, powers, rulers, and authorities “were created through him and for him” (Col. 1:16). God is actively working to bring the whole universe and all peoples and nations under one head, his Son, Christ Jesus (Eph. 1:10).
Salvation History
Within world history, God has also worked through one particular people, the Israelites, to accomplish his redemptive purposes. When Joseph told his brothers that what they had intended to do to him for evil, God had intended for good, for “the saving of many lives” (Gen. 50:20), he may not have fully realized how much his words were in accord with, and could even be said to summarize, redemptive history. God took the harm that Joseph’s brothers intended and used it to fulfill the promises that he had made years earlier to Abraham with regard to what would happen to his descendants (Gen. 12:1–3). In the early chapters of Exodus, God’s sovereignty over the “forces of nature” intersects with his deliverance of the Israelites in the plagues that he brings on the Egyptians. Of course, God had raised up Pharaoh for the very purpose of displaying his own glory in victory over Pharaoh and “all the gods of Egypt” (Exod. 9:16; 12:12; cf. Rom. 9:17).
Throughout the ensuing Israelite history, God demonstrates his providential care for the Israelites. The Jews return from their Babylonian captivity because God raised up Cyrus, even though Cyrus did not acknowledge him (Isa. 44:28–45:13), for the very purpose of issuing the decree that allowed them to return. Even in narratives in which God’s name is not mentioned, such as the book of Esther, we are to understand that God is directing the action, and certainly the narrator wants us to connect the account of the origin of the festival of Purim (“lots”) with the idea that “the lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the Lord” (Prov. 16:33).
In the NT the act that secures our redemption, the crucifixion of Jesus, is not an unforeseen occurrence that God makes the best of; rather, the death of Jesus is that which he himself would “accomplish” (Luke 9:31 NRSV [NIV: “bring to fulfillment”]). No one takes Jesus’ life from him; he lays it down of his own accord (John 10:18). Jesus even gives Judas Iscariot directions on the night of his betrayal (John 13:27). What happens in the crucifixion is in accord with “God’s deliberate plan and foreknowledge” (Acts 2:23) and with what his “power and will had decided beforehand should happen” (4:28).
Individual History
Jesus promises that for those who seek the kingdom of God, “all these things will be given to you as well” (Matt. 6:33). If God feeds the birds of the air and clothes the grass of the field, much more will he take care to feed and clothe us (Matt. 6:26, 30). Indeed, “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (Rom. 8:28).
A collection of 150 poems. They are the hymnbook of the OT period, used in public worship. Psalms contains songs of different lengths, types, and dates. The earliest psalm (Ps. 90) is attributed to Moses (mid-second millennium BC), while the content of Ps. 126 and Ps. 137 points to the latest periods of the OT (mid-first millennium BC). They continue to be used as a source of public worship and private devotion.
Historical Background
Most psalms have a title. In the Hebrew text this title comprises the first verse, whereas English translations set it off before the first verse. Titles vary. Many name an author (e.g., David [Ps. 3]; Asaph [Ps. 77]; sons of Korah [Ps. 42]), while others provide information about genre (e.g., Psalms of Ascent [Pss. 120–134]), tune (e.g., “Do Not Destroy” [Ps. 75]), use in worship (Ps. 92), and a circumstance that led to composition (Ps. 51). Information in the title gives hints concerning how psalms were written and brought into a final collection.
Composition
As mentioned, the titles of the psalms often give indications of authorship and occasionally name the circumstance that led to the writing of the psalm. A good example is Ps. 51, where the title states, “For the director of music. A psalm of David. When the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba.” The title connects the psalm with the events recorded in 2 Sam. 11–12 and suggests that David wrote the song in response to his sin and Nathan’s confrontation.
Although only a handful of the psalms have such a historical title, it is likely that most psalms were composed in response to some specific circumstance that encouraged the author to write. Interestingly, though, the psalmists do not speak about the specific circumstance in the psalm itself. Psalm 51, for instance, fits perfectly with the situation that the title describes in that it expresses guilt toward God and asks for forgiveness, but nowhere does it speak specifically about adultery. The psalmists do this intentionally because they are writing the song not as a memorial to an event, but rather as a prayer that others who have had similar though not identical experiences can use after them. Thus, Ps. 51 has been used as a model prayer for many penitents, whether they have sinned like David or in another way.
Most modern hymns have a similar background. John Newton, for instance, was inspired to write “Amazing Grace” because of awe that he felt at his conversion to Christianity from the evil of being a slave trader. However, when he wrote it, he wanted others to sing it as reflecting not on his conversion but on their own.
Collection
The psalms were composed over a thousand-year period. Thus, it appears that the book of Psalms was a growing collection until it came to a close at an unknown time between the writing of the two Testaments.
In 1 Chron. 16:7–36 we may get a glimpse of how the process worked. The text describes David turning a musical composition over to the Levitical musician Asaph and his associates. It is likely that the priests kept an official copy of the book of Psalms in the holy place (the temple while it stood). The psalms, after all, were the hymns of ancient Israel. Their primary function was as a corporate book of prayer, though certainly they could be used in private devotions (note Hannah’s prayer in 1 Sam. 2:1–10 and its relationship to Ps. 113).
Organization and Structure
The psalms have no obvious organization that explains the location of all the psalms. They are not organized in terms of genre, authorship, time of composition, or length. There is only one statement about organization, found in Ps. 72:20: “This concludes the prayers of David son of Jesse.” In the light of this comment, it is surprising that a number of Davidic psalms appear in subsequent sections (Pss. 101; 103; 108–110; 122; 124; 131; 133; 138–145). The best explanation is that at one point Ps. 72 concluded the Davidic psalms, but there was a reorganization before the canonical order was permanently closed.
A number of contemporary theories try to find some deep structure to the book, but it is best to refrain from speculation in regard to the overall structure. Nonetheless, a few structural characteristics are obvious. First, the division of Psalms into five books seems to reflect the fivefold division of the Pentateuch:
I. Book 1 (Pss. 1–41)
II. Book 2 (Pss. 42–72)
III. Book 3 (Pss. 73–89)
IV. Book 4 (Pss. 90–106)
V. Book 5 (Pss. 107–150)
Each book ends with a doxology. Such an intentional association with the Pentateuch would lend support to the Psalter’s claim to authority. Although these are prayers to God, they are also God’s word.
Second, within the Psalter there are subcollections. That is, there are psalms that came into the book not individually but as a group. The best-known such group are the Psalms of Ascent (Pss. 120–134), probably so named because worshipers sang them while going up (ascending) to the Temple Mount during one of the annual religious festivals in Jerusalem.
Third, it appears that psalms are intentionally placed at the beginning and at the end of the book to serve as an introduction and a conclusion. Psalms 1–2 serve as an introduction that alerts the reader to the twin important themes of law and messiah. Psalm 1 pronounces a blessing on those who love God’s law. The psalms, after all, are an intimate and personal conversation with God. One must be on the side of the godly to enter such a holy textual space, just as one must be godly to enter the precincts of the temple. After the reader enters, Psalm 2 provides an encounter with God and his anointed one (messiah). At the end of the book, the last five psalms (Pss. 146–150) constitute a tremendous doxology of praise.
This leads to the final observation on structure. Psalms of lament predominate at the beginning of the book, but they give way to hymns of praise toward the end. It is almost as if one enters the Psalter mourning and leaves it praising. Indeed, the Psalter brings the reader into contact with God and thus transforms the reader from sadness to joy.
Literary Considerations
Genre. The individual psalms may be identified as songs, prayers, or poems. Specifically, they are lyric poems (expressing the emotions of the poet), often addressed to God, and set to musical accompaniment. Although the categories overlap, seven different types of psalms can be recognized, with the first three being by far the most common.
• Lament. The largest single group of psalms are the laments, characterized by the expression of unhappy emotions: sadness, disappointment, anger, worry. The lamenters call on God to save them, even while at times complaining about God’s actions toward them (Ps. 42:9–10). Some laments contain petitions for forgiveness (Ps. 51), while others assert innocence of any wrongdoing (Ps. 26). A few laments even contain curses directed toward the enemies who are trying to harm the psalmist (Ps. 69:19–28). Most laments end by praising God or reaffirming confidence in God (Ps. 130:7–8). Usually the reason for the change from mourning to rejoicing is not given, but Ps. 77 pinpoints the reason as the memory of God’s great salvation events in the past (vv. 10, 16–20). One psalm, Ps. 88, laments but never makes the turn, remaining in the pit of despair. Yet even here we have a glimmer of hope in that the one who laments is still speaking to God.
• Thanksgiving. When God answers a lament, the response is thanksgiving. Psalms of thanksgiving are very similar to hymns (see below), but they cite an earlier problem that God has addressed. Psalm 30 praises God for restoring the psalmist’s good fortune and health after he suffered due to his earlier arrogance that led him to forget God (vv. 6–7).
• Hymn. Hymns are psalms of unalloyed praise directed toward God. The psalmists often call for others to join their worship of God (Ps. 100).
• Remembrance. While many psalms evoke memories of God’s actions in the past (as the lament in Ps. 77 recalls the exodus), certain psalms focus on rehearsing the actions of God in the past. Psalm 136 is one of the most memorable examples. As a liturgical psalm, it recites a divine action (“[God] swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea” [v. 15]) followed by a congregational response (“His love endures forever”).
• Confidence. These psalms are defined by their mood of quiet trust in God even in the midst of trouble. They often present a reassuring image of God. The picture of God as a shepherd in Ps. 23 or as a mother in Ps. 131 are good examples.
• Wisdom. Some psalms meditate on the law (Pss. 1; 119) or have interests similar to those of wisdom literature, such as Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes (Pss. 49; 73).
• Kingship. A number of psalms praise God as king (Ps. 47) or the human king as his agent (Pss. 20–21) or both (Ps. 2).
Style. The psalms are poems, and so their style is characterized by the use of parallelism and figurative language. Poetry is also notable for its short lines. A poet packs a lot of meaning into very few words. So it is important to slow down and reflect on a psalm in order to derive its maximum effect. Besides brevity of expression, parallelism, and figurative language, poets create interest by using other literary tools. The psalmists use these poetic devices not only to inform their readers’ intellect but also to stimulate their imagination and arouse their emotions. (See also Acrostic; Imagery; Poetry.)
Theological Message
Although the psalms are not theological essays, readers can learn about God and their relationship with God from these poems. The book of Psalms is a bit like a portrait gallery of God, using images to describe who he is and the nature of our relationship with him. Some examples include God as shepherd (Ps. 23), king (Ps. 47), warrior (Ps. 98), and mother (Ps. 131), and the list could be greatly expanded. Each one of these picture images casts light on the nature of God and also the nature of our relationship with God. After all, the aforementioned psalms explicitly or implicitly describe God’s people as sheep, subjects, soldiers, and children.
Connection to the New Testament and Today
Jesus himself draws attention to Psalms as a book that anticipated his coming suffering and glorification (Luke 24:25–27, 44). The Gospels recognized that Jesus’ zeal for God was well expressed by Ps. 69:9 (John 2:17). When at the apex of his suffering on the cross, Jesus uttered the words found in Ps. 22:1 (Matt. 27:46). The NT writers also saw that Jesus was the fulfillment of the covenant that promised that a son of David would have an everlasting throne (2 Sam. 7:16). Accordingly, the royal psalms (e.g., Pss. 2; 110) often were applied to Jesus, who is the Messiah (the Christ, “the anointed one”).
Today we read Psalms not only as an ancient witness to the coming work of Christ but also, as John Calvin put it, as a mirror of our souls. The psalms were written for worshipers who came after them with similar though not identical joys and problems. The psalms should become models of our prayers.
The KJV uses “Sion” to translate the Hebrew word si’on in Deut. 4:48, referring to Mount Hermon (NIV: “Sirion”); the Hebrew word tsiyyon in Ps. 65:1, referring to Zion (NIV: “Zion”); and the Greek form of “Zion,” Siōn, in Matt. 21:5; John 12:15; Rom. 9:33; 11:26; Heb. 12:22; 1 Pet. 2:6; Rev. 14:1 (NIV: “Zion”).
Secondary Matches
A collection of 150 poems. They are the hymnbook of the OT period, used in public worship. Psalms contains songs of different lengths, types, and dates. The earliest psalm (Ps. 90) is attributed to Moses (mid-second millennium BC), while the content of Ps. 126 and Ps. 137 points to the latest periods of the OT (mid-first millennium BC). They continue to be used as a source of public worship and private devotion.
Historical Background
Most psalms have a title. In the Hebrew text this title comprises the first verse, whereas English translations set it off before the first verse. Titles vary. Many name an author (e.g., David [Ps. 3]; Asaph [Ps. 77]; sons of Korah [Ps. 42]), while others provide information about genre (e.g., Psalms of Ascent [Pss. 120–134]), tune (e.g., “Do Not Destroy” [Ps. 75]), use in worship (Ps. 92), and a circumstance that led to composition (Ps. 51). Information in the title gives hints concerning how psalms were written and brought into a final collection.
Composition
As mentioned, the titles of the psalms often give indications of authorship and occasionally name the circumstance that led to the writing of the psalm. A good example is Ps. 51, where the title states, “For the director of music. A psalm of David. When the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba.” The title connects the psalm with the events recorded in 2 Sam. 11–12 and suggests that David wrote the song in response to his sin and Nathan’s confrontation.
Although only a handful of the psalms have such a historical title, it is likely that most psalms were composed in response to some specific circumstance that encouraged the author to write. Interestingly, though, the psalmists do not speak about the specific circumstance in the psalm itself. Psalm 51, for instance, fits perfectly with the situation that the title describes in that it expresses guilt toward God and asks for forgiveness, but nowhere does it speak specifically about adultery. The psalmists do this intentionally because they are writing the song not as a memorial to an event, but rather as a prayer that others who have had similar though not identical experiences can use after them. Thus, Ps. 51 has been used as a model prayer for many penitents, whether they have sinned like David or in another way.
Most modern hymns have a similar background. John Newton, for instance, was inspired to write “Amazing Grace” because of awe that he felt at his conversion to Christianity from the evil of being a slave trader. However, when he wrote it, he wanted others to sing it as reflecting not on his conversion but on their own.
Collection
The psalms were composed over a thousand-year period. Thus, it appears that the book of Psalms was a growing collection until it came to a close at an unknown time between the writing of the two Testaments.
In 1 Chron. 16:7–36 we may get a glimpse of how the process worked. The text describes David turning a musical composition over to the Levitical musician Asaph and his associates. It is likely that the priests kept an official copy of the book of Psalms in the holy place (the temple while it stood). The psalms, after all, were the hymns of ancient Israel. Their primary function was as a corporate book of prayer, though certainly they could be used in private devotions (note Hannah’s prayer in 1 Sam. 2:1–10 and its relationship to Ps. 113).
Organization and Structure
The psalms have no obvious organization that explains the location of all the psalms. They are not organized in terms of genre, authorship, time of composition, or length. There is only one statement about organization, found in Ps. 72:20: “This concludes the prayers of David son of Jesse.” In the light of this comment, it is surprising that a number of Davidic psalms appear in subsequent sections (Pss. 101; 103; 108–110; 122; 124; 131; 133; 138–145). The best explanation is that at one point Ps. 72 concluded the Davidic psalms, but there was a reorganization before the canonical order was permanently closed.
A number of contemporary theories try to find some deep structure to the book, but it is best to refrain from speculation in regard to the overall structure. Nonetheless, a few structural characteristics are obvious. First, the division of Psalms into five books seems to reflect the fivefold division of the Pentateuch:
I. Book 1 (Pss. 1–41)
II. Book 2 (Pss. 42–72)
III. Book 3 (Pss. 73–89)
IV. Book 4 (Pss. 90–106)
V. Book 5 (Pss. 107–150)
Each book ends with a doxology. Such an intentional association with the Pentateuch would lend support to the Psalter’s claim to authority. Although these are prayers to God, they are also God’s word.
Second, within the Psalter there are subcollections. That is, there are psalms that came into the book not individually but as a group. The best-known such group are the Psalms of Ascent (Pss. 120–134), probably so named because worshipers sang them while going up (ascending) to the Temple Mount during one of the annual religious festivals in Jerusalem.
Third, it appears that psalms are intentionally placed at the beginning and at the end of the book to serve as an introduction and a conclusion. Psalms 1–2 serve as an introduction that alerts the reader to the twin important themes of law and messiah. Psalm 1 pronounces a blessing on those who love God’s law. The psalms, after all, are an intimate and personal conversation with God. One must be on the side of the godly to enter such a holy textual space, just as one must be godly to enter the precincts of the temple. After the reader enters, Psalm 2 provides an encounter with God and his anointed one (messiah). At the end of the book, the last five psalms (Pss. 146–150) constitute a tremendous doxology of praise.
This leads to the final observation on structure. Psalms of lament predominate at the beginning of the book, but they give way to hymns of praise toward the end. It is almost as if one enters the Psalter mourning and leaves it praising. Indeed, the Psalter brings the reader into contact with God and thus transforms the reader from sadness to joy.
Literary Considerations
Genre. The individual psalms may be identified as songs, prayers, or poems. Specifically, they are lyric poems (expressing the emotions of the poet), often addressed to God, and set to musical accompaniment. Although the categories overlap, seven different types of psalms can be recognized, with the first three being by far the most common.
• Lament. The largest single group of psalms are the laments, characterized by the expression of unhappy emotions: sadness, disappointment, anger, worry. The lamenters call on God to save them, even while at times complaining about God’s actions toward them (Ps. 42:9–10). Some laments contain petitions for forgiveness (Ps. 51), while others assert innocence of any wrongdoing (Ps. 26). A few laments even contain curses directed toward the enemies who are trying to harm the psalmist (Ps. 69:19–28). Most laments end by praising God or reaffirming confidence in God (Ps. 130:7–8). Usually the reason for the change from mourning to rejoicing is not given, but Ps. 77 pinpoints the reason as the memory of God’s great salvation events in the past (vv. 10, 16–20). One psalm, Ps. 88, laments but never makes the turn, remaining in the pit of despair. Yet even here we have a glimmer of hope in that the one who laments is still speaking to God.
• Thanksgiving. When God answers a lament, the response is thanksgiving. Psalms of thanksgiving are very similar to hymns (see below), but they cite an earlier problem that God has addressed. Psalm 30 praises God for restoring the psalmist’s good fortune and health after he suffered due to his earlier arrogance that led him to forget God (vv. 6–7).
• Hymn. Hymns are psalms of unalloyed praise directed toward God. The psalmists often call for others to join their worship of God (Ps. 100).
• Remembrance. While many psalms evoke memories of God’s actions in the past (as the lament in Ps. 77 recalls the exodus), certain psalms focus on rehearsing the actions of God in the past. Psalm 136 is one of the most memorable examples. As a liturgical psalm, it recites a divine action (“[God] swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea” [v. 15]) followed by a congregational response (“His love endures forever”).
• Confidence. These psalms are defined by their mood of quiet trust in God even in the midst of trouble. They often present a reassuring image of God. The picture of God as a shepherd in Ps. 23 or as a mother in Ps. 131 are good examples.
• Wisdom. Some psalms meditate on the law (Pss. 1; 119) or have interests similar to those of wisdom literature, such as Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes (Pss. 49; 73).
• Kingship. A number of psalms praise God as king (Ps. 47) or the human king as his agent (Pss. 20–21) or both (Ps. 2).
Style. The psalms are poems, and so their style is characterized by the use of parallelism and figurative language. Poetry is also notable for its short lines. A poet packs a lot of meaning into very few words. So it is important to slow down and reflect on a psalm in order to derive its maximum effect. Besides brevity of expression, parallelism, and figurative language, poets create interest by using other literary tools. The psalmists use these poetic devices not only to inform their readers’ intellect but also to stimulate their imagination and arouse their emotions. (See also Acrostic; Imagery; Poetry.)
Theological Message
Although the psalms are not theological essays, readers can learn about God and their relationship with God from these poems. The book of Psalms is a bit like a portrait gallery of God, using images to describe who he is and the nature of our relationship with him. Some examples include God as shepherd (Ps. 23), king (Ps. 47), warrior (Ps. 98), and mother (Ps. 131), and the list could be greatly expanded. Each one of these picture images casts light on the nature of God and also the nature of our relationship with God. After all, the aforementioned psalms explicitly or implicitly describe God’s people as sheep, subjects, soldiers, and children.
Connection to the New Testament and Today
Jesus himself draws attention to Psalms as a book that anticipated his coming suffering and glorification (Luke 24:25–27, 44). The Gospels recognized that Jesus’ zeal for God was well expressed by Ps. 69:9 (John 2:17). When at the apex of his suffering on the cross, Jesus uttered the words found in Ps. 22:1 (Matt. 27:46). The NT writers also saw that Jesus was the fulfillment of the covenant that promised that a son of David would have an everlasting throne (2 Sam. 7:16). Accordingly, the royal psalms (e.g., Pss. 2; 110) often were applied to Jesus, who is the Messiah (the Christ, “the anointed one”).
Today we read Psalms not only as an ancient witness to the coming work of Christ but also, as John Calvin put it, as a mirror of our souls. The psalms were written for worshipers who came after them with similar though not identical joys and problems. The psalms should become models of our prayers.
The huge bronze basin that was placed in the courtyard of Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 7:23–26; 2 Chron. 4:2–6 KJV, NRSV [NIV: “Sea of cast metal”]). It was approximately fifteen feet in diameter, seven and a half feet in height, and forty-five feet in circumference. There is a discrepancy in the biblical texts as to how much water it could contain, but it was probably anywhere from ten to fifteen thousand gallons. It rested on twelve cast bulls, three each facing north, west, east, and south. It was ornamented on the outside with figures of bulls and gourds. Scholars estimate that empty it would have weighed between twenty-five and thirty tons.
Functionally, the molten sea served as a basin for priests to wash in (2 Chron. 4:6), but most scholars are convinced that an even greater symbolic value was attached to it. Throughout the ancient Near East, gods were conceived of as having won great victories over the primeval waters. The God of Israel is portrayed this way as well in the OT, especially in the Psalter (Pss. 29:3, 10; 65:7; 74:13; 77:16; 89:9; 93:3–4; 104:7). The presence of the molten sea in the courtyard of the temple would have reminded worshipers of God’s sovereignty over the sea, the forces of nature, and over all the nations (see Ps. 65:7).
The huge bronze basin that was placed in the courtyard of Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 7:23–26; 2 Chron. 4:2–6 KJV, NRSV [NIV: “Sea of cast metal”]). It was approximately fifteen feet in diameter, seven and a half feet in height, and forty-five feet in circumference. There is a discrepancy in the biblical texts as to how much water it could contain, but it was probably anywhere from ten to fifteen thousand gallons. It rested on twelve cast bulls, three each facing north, west, east, and south. It was ornamented on the outside with figures of bulls and gourds. Scholars estimate that empty it would have weighed between twenty-five and thirty tons.
Functionally, the molten sea served as a basin for priests to wash in (2 Chron. 4:6), but most scholars are convinced that an even greater symbolic value was attached to it. Throughout the ancient Near East, gods were conceived of as having won great victories over the primeval waters. The God of Israel is portrayed this way as well in the OT, especially in the Psalter (Pss. 29:3, 10; 65:7; 74:13; 77:16; 89:9; 93:3–4; 104:7). The presence of the molten sea in the courtyard of the temple would have reminded worshipers of God’s sovereignty over the sea, the forces of nature, and over all the nations (see Ps. 65:7).
The huge bronze basin that was placed in the courtyard of Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 7:23–26; 2 Chron. 4:2–6 KJV, NRSV [NIV: “Sea of cast metal”]). It was approximately fifteen feet in diameter, seven and a half feet in height, and forty-five feet in circumference. There is a discrepancy in the biblical texts as to how much water it could contain, but it was probably anywhere from ten to fifteen thousand gallons. It rested on twelve cast bulls, three each facing north, west, east, and south. It was ornamented on the outside with figures of bulls and gourds. Scholars estimate that empty it would have weighed between twenty-five and thirty tons.
Functionally, the molten sea served as a basin for priests to wash in (2 Chron. 4:6), but most scholars are convinced that an even greater symbolic value was attached to it. Throughout the ancient Near East, gods were conceived of as having won great victories over the primeval waters. The God of Israel is portrayed this way as well in the OT, especially in the Psalter (Pss. 29:3, 10; 65:7; 74:13; 77:16; 89:9; 93:3–4; 104:7). The presence of the molten sea in the courtyard of the temple would have reminded worshipers of God’s sovereignty over the sea, the forces of nature, and over all the nations (see Ps. 65:7).
Imagery pertains to the literary use of colorful figures of speech that can be visualized in the imagination. The biblical writers employ imagery frequently, for the images they use help to communicate God’s message more powerfully. Imagery communicates with readers not only at the cognitive (knowledge) level but also at the emotional level. For example, the prophet Amos could have just said to Israel that “God is angry” with them. But such language is flat and bland. Instead, Amos paints a graphic picture with his words by stating, “The lion has roared!” (Amos 3:8). This is a figure of speech in which Amos compares God to a lion roaring over its prey. In a culture where people did encounter dangerous lions and where all people held respect for the power of lions, this imagery connected at both the knowledge level and the emotional level.
Since, in essence, images are figures of speech, they can be used in a variety of ways: as metaphors, similes, direct analogies, or anthropomorphisms. Like these other figures of speech, biblical images reflect both points of similarity and points of difference in the two items being compared in the image. In Amos 3:8 the prophet is telling his audience something about God by using language normally associated with lions. Both God and the lion are extremely dangerous, and both are about to pounce on their prey. However, Amos expects his readers to also keep in mind that God is quite different from a lion in many, many ways.
The Bible contains hundreds of colorful images. To celebrate God’s wonderful love and care, David describes God with the image of a caring shepherd (Ps. 23). To communicate the joy of God’s material blessings, David paints a picture of meadows and valleys shouting and singing in joy (Ps. 65:13). Jeremiah wants to convey God’s disgust with Israel’s idolatry, so he refers to Jerusalem as a prostitute (Jer. 3:1). To underscore the strong contrast between sin and forgiveness, Isaiah states, “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow” (Isa. 1:18).
Jesus uses imagery frequently in his teaching. For example, he compares the kingdom of heaven to a mustard seed, which starts small but slowly grows to become the largest of shrubs (Matt. 13:31–32). To illustrate the difficulty of a rich person entering the kingdom of heaven, Jesus paints a colorful and humorous image of a camel trying to get through the tiny eye of a needle (Matt. 19:24). He uses dozens of images to communicate different aspects of his personality and mission, comparing himself to a wide range of things: a gate, a vine, a light, a road, a shepherd, bread, and more. Paul uses imagery when he tells us to put on the armor of God (Eph. 6:10–18) and when he compares Jesus to a cornerstone (2:20). The book of Revelation is packed with vivid images, portraying, for example, Jesus as a lamb (Rev. 5:6) and Satan as a dragon (20:2).
Imagery pertains to the literary use of colorful figures of speech that can be visualized in the imagination. The biblical writers employ imagery frequently, for the images they use help to communicate God’s message more powerfully. Imagery communicates with readers not only at the cognitive (knowledge) level but also at the emotional level. For example, the prophet Amos could have just said to Israel that “God is angry” with them. But such language is flat and bland. Instead, Amos paints a graphic picture with his words by stating, “The lion has roared!” (Amos 3:8). This is a figure of speech in which Amos compares God to a lion roaring over its prey. In a culture where people did encounter dangerous lions and where all people held respect for the power of lions, this imagery connected at both the knowledge level and the emotional level.
Since, in essence, images are figures of speech, they can be used in a variety of ways: as metaphors, similes, direct analogies, or anthropomorphisms. Like these other figures of speech, biblical images reflect both points of similarity and points of difference in the two items being compared in the image. In Amos 3:8 the prophet is telling his audience something about God by using language normally associated with lions. Both God and the lion are extremely dangerous, and both are about to pounce on their prey. However, Amos expects his readers to also keep in mind that God is quite different from a lion in many, many ways.
The Bible contains hundreds of colorful images. To celebrate God’s wonderful love and care, David describes God with the image of a caring shepherd (Ps. 23). To communicate the joy of God’s material blessings, David paints a picture of meadows and valleys shouting and singing in joy (Ps. 65:13). Jeremiah wants to convey God’s disgust with Israel’s idolatry, so he refers to Jerusalem as a prostitute (Jer. 3:1). To underscore the strong contrast between sin and forgiveness, Isaiah states, “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow” (Isa. 1:18).
Jesus uses imagery frequently in his teaching. For example, he compares the kingdom of heaven to a mustard seed, which starts small but slowly grows to become the largest of shrubs (Matt. 13:31–32). To illustrate the difficulty of a rich person entering the kingdom of heaven, Jesus paints a colorful and humorous image of a camel trying to get through the tiny eye of a needle (Matt. 19:24). He uses dozens of images to communicate different aspects of his personality and mission, comparing himself to a wide range of things: a gate, a vine, a light, a road, a shepherd, bread, and more. Paul uses imagery when he tells us to put on the armor of God (Eph. 6:10–18) and when he compares Jesus to a cornerstone (2:20). The book of Revelation is packed with vivid images, portraying, for example, Jesus as a lamb (Rev. 5:6) and Satan as a dragon (20:2).
The huge bronze basin that was placed in the courtyard of Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 7:23–26; 2 Chron. 4:2–6 KJV, NRSV [NIV: “Sea of cast metal”]). It was approximately fifteen feet in diameter, seven and a half feet in height, and forty-five feet in circumference. There is a discrepancy in the biblical texts as to how much water it could contain, but it was probably anywhere from ten to fifteen thousand gallons. It rested on twelve cast bulls, three each facing north, west, east, and south. It was ornamented on the outside with figures of bulls and gourds. Scholars estimate that empty it would have weighed between twenty-five and thirty tons.
Functionally, the molten sea served as a basin for priests to wash in (2 Chron. 4:6), but most scholars are convinced that an even greater symbolic value was attached to it. Throughout the ancient Near East, gods were conceived of as having won great victories over the primeval waters. The God of Israel is portrayed this way as well in the OT, especially in the Psalter (Pss. 29:3, 10; 65:7; 74:13; 77:16; 89:9; 93:3–4; 104:7). The presence of the molten sea in the courtyard of the temple would have reminded worshipers of God’s sovereignty over the sea, the forces of nature, and over all the nations (see Ps. 65:7).