Overview: While God spoke to his people in the past at many times and in various ways, he has now spoken an ultimate word by his Son, Jesus Christ (1:1–2). Jesus, through whom the world was created, is the “radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being” (1:2–3). The entire universe holds together by Jesus’s word (1:3). After he provided purification for our sins through the cross, he was exalted to the right hand of God (1:3–4). As creator and sustainer of the universe, Christ is above the angels, but he made himself lower than the angels in order to provide salvation through his atoning death.
Hebrews argues for Jesus’s superiority to the angels using a string of seven Old Testament quotations. Both Psalm 2:7 and 2 Samuel 7:14 assert that Jesus, the Son, has a unique re…
1 In the past God spoke to our forefathers through the prophets at many times and in various ways, 2 but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom he made the universe. 3 The Son is the radiance of God's glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven. 4 So he became as much superior to the angels as the name he has inherited is superior to theirs.
5 For to which of the angels did God ever say, "You are my Son; today I have become your Father " ? Or again, "I will be his Father, and he will be my Son" ? 6 And again, when God brings his firstborn into the world, he says, "Let all God's angels worship him."
7 In speaking of the angels he says, "He makes his angels winds, his servants flames of fire."
8 But about the Son he says, "Your throne, O God, will last for ever and ever, and righteousness will be the scepter of your kingdom.
9 You have loved righteousness and hated wickedness; therefore God, your God, has set you above your companions by anointing you with the oil of joy."
10 He also says, "In the beginning, O Lord, you laid the foundations of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands.
11 They will perish, but you remain; they will all wear out like a garment.
12 You will roll them up like a robe; like a garment they will be changed. But you remain the same, and your years will never end."
13 To which of the angels did God ever say, "Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet" ? 14 Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?
The Superiority of the Christian Faith (1:1–10:18)
1:1–4 · Jesus Christ superior to the prophets:The dramatic exordium is less an introduction than a thunderous opening salvo. This written sermon goes forth precisely to arrest a waning of conviction regarding the divine supremacy of Christ and the decisiveness of his work as the redeemer of sinners (1:1–2). The assertion of the Son’s preeminence among the prophets and the finality of his revelation is possibly intended to correct the expectation of an eschatological prophet within the circle of Judaism from which these readers had come and to which they were now tempted to return. Note that no distinction is made between the message spoken formerly and “in these last days.” It is not the message but the dignity of the messengers and the times and circumstances of their revelation that differ. God spoke then and now, and indeed continues to speak, through the ancient prophets as through his Son (e.g., 3:7; 10:37–38). One needs to remember that the living and active word of God (4:12) was for this author largely what is now called the Old Testament.
“These last days” (literally “at the end of these days”) is taken from the Septuagint, which literally rendered the Hebrew phrase used in the Old Testament to designate the prophetic future (cf. Gen. 49:1; Deut. 4:30; Isa. 2:2; Ezek. 38:16). “These” refers to the future days prophesied in the Old Testament, or some of those days, or the beginning of them (cf. Heb. 9:26). In verse 3, “radiance” indicates the Son’s sharing of the divine attributes (cf. John 1:14; 2 Cor. 4:6), and “exact representation” indicates the correspondence of his nature with the Father’s (cf. Col. 1:15). “Sustaining all things” refers to his government by which he brings the course of history to its appointed end. “Sat down” signifies the completion of the atonement (10:12–14) and suggests Christ’s present activity as priest (4:14–16) and king (12:2). It is self-evident that if the Son’s person and work are as described, any religion that does not place them at its center, in which he is not the hope and joy of sinners and the chief object of faith and worship, stands self-condemned.
1:5–14 · Jesus Christ superior to angels:The superiority of the Son to the angels is now distinctly stated and furnished with an impressive biblical demonstration (1:5–14). The author’s evident interest in providing conclusive proof of this point surely indicates that this was a matter of dispute. Possibly his readership attributed an unwarranted eminence to angels as a consequence of their function as mediators through whom God revealed the law (2:2; cf. Acts 7:53; Gal. 3:19). If the hypothesis of the readers’ background in nonconformist Judaism is granted, they knew well an eschatology in which an angel played a more decisive role than the Messiah himself. Since they were Jews and Christians, their retreat from Christianity was resulting in a growing hesitance to ascribe divinity to Jesus while yet wishing to revere him, leaving him as less than God but more than man—that is, an angel. That his superior name is inherited indicates that Jesus Christ is here being considered not in his eternal and essential dignity as the Son of God but as the mediator, the “man Christ Jesus” (1 Tim. 2:5), who by his humiliation became superior to the angels (Heb. 2:9).
The fact that the author has the incarnate Son of God (1:5) in view helps in understanding Psalm 2:7, the first of the seven citations from Scripture, which figures prominently in the New Testament as a prophecy of the incarnation, the messianic ministry, and especially the resurrection (Mark 1:11; Luke 1:32; Acts 13:33; Heb. 5:5; cf. Rom. 1:4). The eternal Son could be said to become or to “be begotten” as the Son of God only with reference to the exaltation of the human nature he took to himself when he came into the world.
The second citation (2 Sam. 7:14), God’s promise to David concerning Solomon, was extended in Old Testament prophecy and became the basis of the expectation of the messianic king of Davidic descent who would usher in God’s everlasting kingdom (Ps. 72:1–20; Isa. 9:7; 11:1–9; Jer. 23:5–6; Luke 1:32–33).
In verse 6, the third citation (Deut. 32:43, from the longer text of the Septuagint and Dead Sea Scrolls; cf. Ps. 97:7) verifies that when the Son of God came into the world as a man, he was worshiped as divine. Perhaps the specific allusion is to Luke 2:13. “Firstborn” is another messianic title (Ps. 89:27). It suggests his consecration to God (Exod. 13:2) and his precedence as an heir. The application of this text to Christ is an instance of the attribution of the divine name Yahweh to Jesus.
The contrasting citations in verses 7–9 (Ps. 45:6–7; 104:4) establish that the superiority of the Son to the angels is as clear and great as that of a king to those who do his bidding, indeed, as that of God to his creatures. Psalm 45, a wedding song for an Israelite king, is properly applied to the one who establishes the reign of which the Old Testament kingship was but a foreshadowing. The ascription of this text to Christ results in one of the few places in the New Testament where Christ is directly referred to as God (cf. John 1:1; 20:28; Rom. 9:5).
In verses 10–12, the sixth citation (Ps. 102:25–27) serves to recapitulate the divine dignity of the incarnate Son of God as the Creator (1:2) and his majesty as the eternal Yahweh. (The divine name is missing in the Hebrew text, but the Septuagint’s “O Lord” may bear witness to an earlier form of the Hebrew text. In any case, Yahweh is unmistakably being addressed, as the entire psalm demonstrates.)
The final citation, which occurs in verses 13–14, is from Psalm 110 and climactically reiterates the divine honor bestowed on Christ, the royal status he presently enjoys, and the inheritance soon to be his. On the other hand, the angels are but servants (cf. Ps. 103:20–21); some stand (Luke 1:19), but none sit in Christ’s seat of honor. Their special ministry is to those who will share in Christ’s inheritance. In his first mention of salvation, the author characteristically views it as yet future (2:5; 9:28).
God’s Definitive Revelation
The magnificent opening verses of this passage provide an immediate expression of the author’s theological perspective: he moves from past revelation to definitive revelation, from God’s word to the OT “fathers” to his final word through his Son, Jesus Christ. He gives first his doctrine of Christ in order to set the tone for the entire book. The introductory christological prologue in these verses is thus similar to the prologue of the Fourth Gospel (John 1:1–18) in its function as well as in its christocentric theology. The author, however, does not want to present such an exalted Christology without first indicating that God’s word spoken in his Son is continuous with, and not alien to, what has preceded. What God has done in Christ is the climax of what he had begun to do in earlier times. And having finished the work of atonement, Christ enjoys an exalted status far superior to that of the angels.
1:1 God has spoken at many times and in various ways in the past. This serves as a good characterization of what we call the Old Testament—the account of God’s revelation of himself to Israel through not only his words, but also his acts. Moreover, our author identifies himself and his readers with those to whom God spoke in the past, our forefathers. This statement is an affirmation of what the Jews have always been committed to: God has indeed spoken to us in the past through the prophets. Prophets here are to be understood as God’s spokesmen, his representatives to people in every era and therefore as all the writers of Scripture, not just those referred to in the literature we designate as “the Prophets.” This affirmation provides a strong sense of continuity, of reaching back; it says God began with Israel but is even now at work in the church and in what the church believes. A unity of revelation can be seen as we move from the past into the incomparable present.
1:2 In these last days (lit., “at the end of these days”) God has spoken through his Son. The writer uses eschatological language, that is, language of the last or end time, thereby affirming that we have entered the eschatological age. In other words, God’s plan has now come to fruition; we have entered a new age (cf. 9:26). A fundamental turning point has been reached as God speaks climactically, definitively, and finally through his Son. Any further speaking about what remains to happen in the future is but the elaboration of what has already begun. All that God did previously functions in a preparatory manner, pointing as a great arrow to the goal of Christ. This is the argument our author so effectively presents throughout the book. Christ is the telos, the goal and ultimate meaning of all that preceded.
But in what sense was the writer, or any of the writers of the NT for that matter, justified in referring to his time as the last days? The key to understanding this kind of statement (see also 4:3; 6:5; 9:26; 12:22ff.), is found in the theological ultimacy of Christ. There is no way our writer can have recognized the reality of Jesus Christ—who he is and what he has done—and not have confessed this to be the last time. The sense in which it is “last” is not chronological but theological. The cross, the death, and the exaltation of Jesus point automatically to the beginning of the end. Theologically we have reached the turning point in the plan that God has had all through the ages, so by definition we are in the last days. Eschatology is of one theological fabric: when God has spoken through his Son, the eschatological age has begun, and we are necessarily in the last days theologically. These are the last days because of the greatness of what God has done. The surprise is, of course, that this period of eschatological fulfillment is so prolonged that these last days are not necessarily (though for any age it may turn out that they are) the last days chronologically.
This book, this opening passage, and particularly verse 2, point to the centrality of the Son and the superiority of the Son to all that preceded, all that exists now, and anything that might exist in the future. God has now spoken to us climactically by his Son, in whom, as Paul puts it, all of God’s promises are “Yes” (2 Cor. 1:20). The very mention of the Son has strong OT messianic overtones, as is evident immediately in verse 5, which quotes Psalm 2:7, “You are my Son; today I have become your Father,” and 2 Samuel 7:14, “I will be his father, and he will be my son.” Indeed, the remainder of the chapter, with its numerous OT quotations, points to the unique identity of the Son as the Promised One, the Messiah designated by God to bring about the fulfillment of God’s great plan and purpose.
The true nature of the Son is then expounded in seven glorious phrases that portray his incomparable superiority. He is, in the first instance, the one whom he [God] appointed heir of all things. In the Hebrew culture, to be a son means to be an heir, especially when one is the only or unique son. Therefore, the Son of God, by virtue of his sonship, is appointed the one who will finally possess everything. To the messianic Son of Psalm 2:7 (quoted above) are also spoken the words, “Ask of me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession” (Ps. 2:8). The Son is thus of central significance at the beginning, in creation, and at the end, in inheritance. Paul’s language is parallel: “all things were created by him and for him” (Col. 1:16).
Second, the Son is described as the one through whom he [God] made the universe. The Son is God’s agent in the creation of the universe of all space and all time—in short, of all that exists. This view of Christ is present also in the Fourth Gospel (John 1:3, “Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made”), and in Paul (Col. 1:16, “all things were created by him”; 1 Cor. 8:6 “through whom all things came”). The background of this view possibly lies in the concept of Divine Wisdom, which, personified, is instrumental in creation according to Proverbs 8:27–31 (cf. Wisd. of Sol. 9:1f., 9).
1:3 The third and fourth phrases in this characterization of Christ turn to the manner in which the Son is a true expression of the father. The Son (lit., “who”) is the radiance of God’s glory. The word radiance or “radiant light” means intense “brightness.” Barclay effectively paraphrases: “The Son is the radiance of his glory just as the ray is the light of the sun.” Again a parallel exists between the personification of wisdom, this time in the apocryphal book the Wisdom of Solomon (7:25f.): “For she is a breath of the power of God, and a pure emanation of the glory of the Almighty; … she is a reflection of eternal light, a spotless mirror of the working of God, and an image of his goodness” (RSV). Other NT writers hold a similar view of Christ. In the prologue of the Gospel of John, Christ is designated “the true light that gives light to every man was coming into the world” (John 1:9), in whom “we have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father” (John 1:14). For John, as for our author, Jesus expresses the brilliant glory of God. Paul, too, speaks of the light that Christ brought, referring to “the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6; cf. 4:4).
The next phrase, he is the exact representation of his being, is simply a more explicit way of expressing what the author has just said. The Son is a perfect representation of God’s being “just as the mark is the exact impression of the seal” (Barclay). The thought is again reminiscent of Christology elsewhere in the NT, for example in Paul’s statements that Christ is “the image of God” (2 Cor. 4:4) and “the image of the invisible God” (Col. 1:15); although in these two instances, the Greek word (eikōn, from which comes the English word “icon”) is different from that used here. John expressed the same idea in the words “anyone who has seen me [Jesus] has seen the Father” (John 14:9). It is to be noted further that it is God’s own being that is expressed so accurately, the word being here to be understood as “substance” or “essence.” These two parallel phrases at the beginning of verse 3 obviously speak of the uniqueness of the Son. They also point to the extraordinary connection between the Father and Son. In order for the Son to be the kind of direct, authentic, and compelling expression of the Father described in these phrases—for him to be the radiance of God’s glory and the impress of his very essence—he must participate somehow in the being of God itself, that is, he must himself be deity to accomplish the wonderful mission described here. Our author would have us conclude, without denying the distinction between Father and Son, that the Son is of the same order of existence as God, and so with God over against all else that exists.
As the Son was instrumental in the creation of the universe (v. 2), so the continuing significance of the Son is seen, in the fifth phrase, in his sustaining all things by his powerful word. Philosophers of every age are prone to ask what it is that underlies reality—that is, what dynamic sustains and makes coherent all that exists. Our author, further revealing his christocentric perspective, finds the answer in the mighty word of the Son. This view also finds parallels in Paul and John. When John uses “Word” (logos) to describe Jesus, he uses a term that has both Jewish and Greek associations. For the Greek Stoic philosophers logos was the underlying principle of rationality that made the world orderly, coherent, and intelligible. Without using the technical term logos, Paul argues in similar fashion: “He is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Col. 1:17). Although the author of Hebrews does not use the specific term logos in this passage, the idea that Christ sustains the universe, is behind it all, and keeps it all going (as the present participle sustaining indicates), is parallel.
Our author, however, is not content simply to mark off the incomparable character of the Son against all others and all else, as he has done in the first five phrases. He wants also to get to one of the main points of the epistle, the atoning work of the Son, for this, too, is vitally a part of and dependent upon the Son’s uniqueness. What makes these the last days is that “once-and-for-all” (to borrow language that will be encountered later in the epistle) he … provided purification for sins. This indeed is the preeminent work of the Son. The “cleansing of sins” (a literal translation) may seem strange in the midst of glorious clauses pointing to the deity of the Son. This phrase, after all, describes the work of the high priest and, though impressive in itself, would seem familiar enough to a Jewish reader. With the insertion of this clause, however, the author anticipates a main argument of the book (cf. chaps. 9 and 10): the work of the high priest is not efficacious in itself but rather foreshadows the priestly work of the one who alone can make atonement for sins. Only God in the Son can accomplish the sacrifice that makes possible the cleansing and the forgiveness of sins (see Rom. 3:24–26). Thus the cleansing of sins rightly belongs with phrases that describe the uniqueness of the Son in his relationship to God.
When he had thus accomplished the purpose of his incarnation, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven. The words of this final and climactic clause convey a sense of completion and fulfillment of God’s purpose. They are drawn from a messianic psalm of the OT (Ps. 110) that is exceptionally important to our author’s argument. Psalm 110:1 is cited or alluded to here and in 1:13 (more fully); 8:1; 10:12–13, and 12:2. Psalm 110:4, the Melchizedek passage, is cited or alluded to in 5:6, 10; 6:20; and throughout chapter 7 (vv. 3, 11, 15, 17, 21, 24, 28). Why is this psalm so important to our author? Two main arguments of the epistle can be supported by Psalm 110: the incomparable superiority of Christ (as revealed in his exaltation to the right hand of God) and the extraordinary high priesthood of Christ (as paralleled and prefigured by Melchizedek). The ascension of Christ to the position of power and authority at the side of the Father is the vindication of the true identity of the one who suffered and died in accomplishing the forgiveness of sins. This view is found often in the NT and is regularly associated with the ascension of Christ. “He who descended is the very one who ascended higher than all the heavens, in order to fill the whole universe” (Eph. 4:10); Christ, “who has gone into heaven and is at God’s right hand—with angels, authorities and powers in submission to him” (1 Pet. 3:22). Jesus alludes to Psalm 110:1 in the synoptic tradition (see Mark 12:36 and 14:62, both with parallels in Matthew and Luke). What the psalmist promised now had come to pass—hence the note of completion and finality. That he has sat down signifies the completion of his atoning work (cf. 10:11–12).
1:4 So he became … superior to the angels describes the result of the reference in the preceding clause to Christ’s exaltation; it thus refers not to the character of the Son from the beginning, but to the last clause of verse 3, which refers to the ascension of Christ. In this exaltation to the right hand of the Father, the Son comes to hold a position that indeed was always his by virtue of his identity, but which was set aside during the incarnation. The ascension is a dramatic attestation of the true identity of the Son and thus also of his superiority to angels. By the ascension the son became … superior to the angels. In this statement the author employs one of his favorite words in describing the definitive and final character of the Son and his work, the comparative superior (lit., “better”).
We have come to the end of this important christological prologue. It sets the tone of the book and has been put first by the author in order that it may inform our understanding of all that follows. The Son is set forth as the embodiment of the three main offices of the OT: prophet (speaking for God), priest (accomplishing forgiveness of sins), and king (reigning with God at his right hand). But he is even more than this marvelous combination of traits can express. He is the one through whom and for whom everything that exists has been created, the one who sustains the universe, and who is the very expression of God’s glory and essence. He is the one with whom not even the angels can compare. The person of Christ is the key to understanding this epistle.
Additional Notes
1:1 The opening sentence in the Greek is skillfully constructed from the literary standpoint, beginning with effective alliteration and measured cadence. See D. W. B. Robinson, “The Literary Structure of Hebrews 1:1–4,” Australian Journal of Biblical Archaeology 1 (1972), pp. 178–86. At many times (lit., “in many parts”) … various ways are two Greek words occurring only here in the NT, whose nuance is captured nicely in NEB: “in fragmentary and varied fashion.” On prophets as spokesmen of God, see G. Friedrich, “prophētēs,” TDNT, vol. 6, pp. 830ff.
1:2 In these last days is language of the Greek translation of the OT (the LXX) commonly used for describing the eschatological expectation of the prophets (e.g., Jer. 23:20; Ezek. 38:16; Dan. 10:14). The first coming of Christ and the second coming of Christ are closely related theologically in that both are eschatological in character. This being so, it is normal to expect that the second will quickly follow the first. The theological interconnectedness of Christ’s work implies (but does not necessitate) the chronological imminence of the second coming. Christians must be careful to preserve the eschatological character of Christ’s first work without weakening their expectation of his future work. For a masterly description of the tension of this as the time of the end yet not the end, see O. Cullmann, Christ and Time, trans. F. V. Filson (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1964). On the eschatology of Hebrews, see C. K. Barrett, “The Eschatology of the Epistle to the Hebrews,” in The Background of the New Testament and Its Eschatology (Festschrift for C. H. Dodd), ed. W. D. Davies and D. Daube (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1964), pp. 363–93.
On the designation of the Messiah as the Son of God, see E. Lohse on hyios in TDNT, vol. 8, pp. 360ff.; see too M. Hengel, The Son of God (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1976), pp. 85–88; on the Christology of Hebrews see V. Taylor, The Person of Christ (London: Macmillan, 1958), pp. 89–98.
Universe is literally “the ages”; hence Barclay’s translation, “the present world and the world to come” (cf. 6:5). For “age” as a spatial term meaning “world” see H. Sasse on aiōn in TDNT, vol. 1, pp. 203f.
The eschatological dimensions of “inheritance” and its connection with sonship are important not only for Christ, but for his people who, according to Paul (Rom. 8:17) and Peter (1 Pet. 3:7), enjoy their sonship by adoption and are made fellow-heirs with Christ. For our author the inheritance of the saints is important. See 6:12, 17; 9:15; 10:36; 11:8.
1:3 Some scholars have argued that v. 3 was originally part of a confessional hymn. The opening relative pronoun “who” (hos), the characteristic participles, and the content all point to this possibility. (On these points see the similarity in other “hymns” in NT epistles, e.g., Col. 1:15, Phil. 2:6ff., and 1 Tim. 3:16.) See further J. T. Sanders, The New Testament Christological Hymns, SNTSMS 15 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1971), pp. 19f. and pp. 92ff. It is striking that the major christological passages of the NT bear marks of being adapted from hymns. The best theology, after all, is better sung than spoken. See also J. Frankowski, “Early Christian Hymns Recorded in the New Testament: A Reconsideration of the Question in the Light of Heb 1, 3,” Biblische Zeitschrift 27 (1983), 183–94, who argues that the hymn is the author’s own, created from already existing hymnic fragments.
This verse contains two key words that are found only here in the entire NT, “radiance” (apaugasma) and “exact representation” (charaktēr). The former has the active sense of “effulgence” as well as the passive sense of “reflection” in its occurrences in Philo, who uses the word to describe what God breathed into man at his creation. The active is probably the nuance here. (See R. P Martin in NIDNTT, vol. 2, pp. 289f.) The latter word, also found in Philo, means accurate representation in the manner of an “impress” or “stamp,” as of a coin to a die. (See U. Wilckens in TDNT, vol. 9, pp. 418–23.) The Greek word katharismos is a technical term for cultic cleansing and is so used in the LXX and even within the NT, where it can signify “ritual washing” (John 2:6; 3:25) or, more generally, purification (as also in Luke 2:22; 2 Pet. 1:9). The use of the word here is no accident, given the central argument of our author about the sacrificial ritual of the temple finding its goal in the work of Christ. Purification for sins is used in an absolute sense, thus including the sins of all humanity.
Psalm 110 is of very great importance in the early church. Understood widely as bearing messianic significance by Jewish interpreters before the time of Jesus, this psalm was seen to be vividly fulfilled in the risen and ascended Christ whom the church now confessed as sovereign Lord. See the excellent study by David M. Hay, Glory at the Right Hand: Psalm 110 in Early Christianity, SBLMS 18 (Nashville and New York: Abingdon, 1973). The extensive use of Ps. 110 by the author of Hebrews is striking and is to be explained by the effective way in which its content supports the arguments of the epistle. G. W. Buchanan, however, probably goes too far in describing Hebrews itself as “a homiletical midrash based on Ps. 110.” To the Hebrews, AB 36 (New York: Doubleday, 1972), p. xix.
The Greek text of the prologue studiously avoids unnecessary use of the word “God” (theos), as is befitting a document addressed to Jewish readers who regarded the word as very holy. Thus, apart from the initial use in v. 1, the word does not occur again in the Greek text. Our translation repeats it in v. 3, where it is substituted for a pronoun. Two circumlocutions for God may be noted in v. 3: glory and the Majesty in heaven.
1:4 This verse introduces the author’s favorite word in drawing the contrast between new and old, “better” (kreissōn, alternately spelled kreittōn). The word occurs thirteen times, being used in reference to the Son (1:4), Melchizedek (7:7), salvation (6:9), covenant (7:22; 8:6), sacrifice (9:23; 12:24), promises (8:6), present possession (10:34), and future expectation (7:19; 11:16, 35, 40). The frequent use of this word is exactly in line with the central argument of the book.
On the theological significance of the ascension, see J. G. Davies, “Ascension of Christ,” in DCT, pp. 15f.
Christ Is Superior to the Angels in His Deity
The great attention given to the superiority of Christ to the angels, which occupies the remainder of chapter 1 and most of chapter 2, probably strikes us as odd since we do not have the same consciousness of angels as the ancient world. So important was the idea of angels in the first century that one encounters it in both Greek and Jewish religious thinking. In the former we have to do with Gnosticism, which stressed a special knowledge leading to the experience of salvation. Fundamental to the gnostic perspective is a dualism between spirit and matter. On the one hand, God is pure spirit and therefore good; human beings, on the other hand, have physical bodies that involve them in the evil that is intrinsic to matter (salvation consists in the escape of the soul from the body). Mediating between God and humanity are his emanations in the form of a host of spiritual beings, who are God’s agents of rule and who thereby elicit worship. These spiritual beings, having no material bodies, are regarded as intrinsically superior to Jesus (unless it be argued, as it was by Christian gnostics, that Jesus never had a real, physical body, but only appeared to have one).
Even within the realm of Jewish thought, which affirmed the goodness of matter and shunned the dualism of the gnostics, God was perceived as remote in his transcendence, and the need for angelic intermediaries was felt. Thus, in much of the intertestamental and rabbinic literature the role of angels is considered vitally important. We do not know whether the situation addressed in Hebrews stems primarily from gnostic or Jewish circles or from some indeterminate mixture of the two. If, however, we are correct in arguing that the recipients of the epistle are Jews who are in danger of lapsing back into Judaism, it may well be that they found it expedient to regard Christ as an angel and thereby to avoid the stumbling-block of Christ as deity. For our author it is intolerable that Christ be regarded as less than the angels or even that he be regarded as an angel himself. The only acceptable view is that which sees the Son as superior to the angelic host—one who belongs on the side of God against all else that exists, incomparable in his splendor.
Since in the ascension the Son assumed the position that was rightfully his, he also in this event was given the name that is rightfully his. In the NT the ascension is regularly associated with the bestowing of a name upon the ascended Christ. Behind this association lies the Hebrew view of names as more than labels, but as actually connected with the nature and character of what is named. Thus the name “Son,” which is the name referred to here (see the next verse), although in a sense always appropriate to describe Jesus Christ, assumes a special appropriateness in the event that newly installed him at the right hand of God. This installation, following the completion of the work of the incarnate Son wherein he revealed God and accomplished redemption, now afforded the actual reality that coincided with the meaning of the name. In Paul’s epistles the ascension is also linked with the granting of a name. In the classic passage Paul writes, “therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name” (Phil. 2:9; see also Eph. 1:20–21). In this instance the name is “Lord” (kyrios), a title comparable in meaning to “Son.” Our author’s argument is that the ascension of the Son to the right hand of God gives him a unique position and name, marking him out as far superior to the angels.
1:5 In order to strengthen the argument of Christ’s superiority to the angels (cf. v. 4), the author now gives a series of seven OT quotations, the meaning of which he regards as rather evident, since he does not, apart from an occasional introductory note, bother to interpret them for us. His approach to the OT is here, and throughout the book, manifestly christocentric. That is, regarding Jesus Christ as the goal of all the preceding works and words of God, the author finds in him the ultimate meaning of it all and thus the key to its proper understanding. In light of the fulfillment that has come, a deeper and truer meaning of the OT may now be perceived. (A discussion of the author’s hermeneutics may be found in the Introduction.)
The first quotation is drawn from Psalm 2, a psalm that has its own historical setting. Psalm 2 was originally a royal psalm composed for the coronation of some Israelite king of the past. Yet such is the content of the psalm that Jewish interpreters before the NT era saw a deeper meaning in the words than a straightforward historical reading can establish. Though not directly prophetic, the psalm is nonetheless seen to anticipate that special Anointed One who would bring with him judgment and blessing—judgment for the wicked and blessing to Israel in the deliverance that it longed for. The historical king is thus a foreshadowing of the king to come. And the psalm is thus appropriately designated as “messianic.” By “messianic” is simply meant that this “anointed” deliverer is in view (the Hebrew word “Messiah” and the Greek word “Christ” mean “the Anointed One”). Psalm 2 specifically refers to such an “anointed” one (2:2) who will be given all the nations of the earth and who will bring judgment (2:8–9). This Anointed One, or Messiah, is identified as uniquely related to God: You are my Son; today I have become your Father (Ps. 2:7). It is indeed preeminently from the background of this psalm, identifying God’s Messiah as his Son, that our author can use the title “Son” in the absolute sense in which it occurs in the christological prologue (see vs. 2). Psalm 2:7 is cited again by our author in Hebrews 5:5, and alluded to in 7:28. It is an important text in the early church (see Acts 13:33) and, combined with Isaiah 42:1, is applied to Jesus both at his baptism (Mark 1:11 and parallels) and at the transfiguration (see Mark 9:7 and parallels; cf. 2 Pet. 1:17). The today is understood most appropriately as referring to the resurrection (see Rom. 1:4), or especially the ascension, given the context of our verse. God never spoke so gloriously of angels.
The second of this chain of quotations also refers to a special Son, this time with words drawn from the Davidic covenant: I will be his Father, and he will be my Son (2 Sam. 7:14; see also the parallel, 1 Chron. 17:13). Again a king is in view, a descendant of David, whom grammatico-historical exegesis most naturally defines as Solomon. He will build a temple and with David will be at the head of a dynasty that lasts forever (2 Sam. 7:13, 16). But such is the glorious nature of this promise that this “son of David” comes to merge with the expectation of a messianic king who will bring the fulfillment of God’s promises. The passage accordingly was seen by Jewish interpreters before the time of Jesus to have a deeper meaning than had yet been realized in any descendant of David. This passage, like Psalm 2:7, was regarded as having a distinctly eschatological significance. Indeed, the combination of these two texts in just such a perspective is encountered in the literature of the covenant community at Qumran on the shore of the Dead Sea, just prior to the NT era. The repeated references to Jesus in the Gospels as the “Son of David” identify him at once with the Messiah and with the Davidic covenant (for the latter see Luke 1:32, 69 and Rom. 1:3). In these first two quotations the author establishes the unique sonship of the Son and thus the superiority of the Son on the basis of the authority of Scripture (which he can presuppose in writing to Jewish readers).
1:6 The third quotation consists of words contained only in the LXX (Deut. 32:43). All of God’s angels must worship him, although there is also a parallel in Psalm 97:7, “worship him, all you gods!” where the LXX has “all his angels.” Most probably our author here as elsewhere depends upon the LXX version of the OT and thus upon Deuteronomy 32:43. What is remarkable in this passage (also in Ps. 97:7) is that the one who is worshipped is the Lord, or Yahweh (i.e., the personal name of God, consisting of the consonants YHWH), and thus the Son is identified with Yahweh of the OT. This quotation is utilized primarily for the reference to the worshiping angels. But if the words spoken to the Lord are referring to the Son, then the deity of the Son (and thus, obviously, his superiority to the angels) is clearly implied.
1:7 The fourth quotation presents a description of the function of angels that puts angels in a decidedly subservient position. The source of the quotation is again the LXX (Ps. 104:4). Angels are likened to the natural elements that function at God’s bidding and thus are also his messengers. Angels are spirits who serve God, as our author will put it in verse 14. There is also an implied contrast between the changeability and transitoriness of wind and fire (and hence of the angels) and the unchanging character and permanence of the Son in verse 12, “you remain the same, and your years will never end” (see also 13:8). The angels are indeed God’s agents, but they are distinctly subordinate agents, not of central significance, not to be likened to God or the Son.
1:8–9 In a fifth quotation, Psalm 45:6–7, words originally used at a royal wedding are understood to have their fullest application to the Son of God. The king originally in view was an Israelite monarch, but so glorious are the words spoken to him that their ultimate fulfillment can only be in the messianic king, the Son of David, the Son now at the right hand of the Father. The opening words of the quotation are ambiguous both in the Hebrew and the LXX. Either “God” is to be understood as vocative, O God, and God is thus the addressee, or “God” is the subject and throne is a predicate nominative, “God is thy throne” (as in margin of RSV). The latter does not make much sense but is sometimes preferred because of the difficulty of God speaking to another as God (as in v. 9), as well as the difficulty of understanding the original historical context wherein a king of Israel is addressed as God. The latter difficulty can be explained as hyperbole for the king who functions as God’s representative in his office. In understanding these words as applying to Christ, however, the author takes the words literally and not hyperbolically. He thus affirms the deity of the Son (as we have seen him do also in v. 6). The Son is not simply the representative of God; he is God by virtue of his nature and function. The throne that will last for ever and ever and will be characterized by righteousness is the promised messianic kingdom with its eschatological overtones.
In verse 9 the word God, as it first occurs, may possibly mean “O God,” thus continuing the address to God in this passage. (Thus the NEB: “therefore, O God, thy God has set thee above thy fellows.”) The one addressed has an unrivaled position of honor. The messianic dimensions of this passage are heightened by the words God has set you above your companions by anointing you. The appropriateness of this passage, for the Son who is the Messiah was not lost upon the author or his readers. The Anointed One who is the consummation of God’s purposes is rightly addressed as God. He is thus without peer, having been set … above his companions. This last word may contain an allusion to the reality of the incarnation for it is the cognate to the verb “shared” in 2:14; more specifically it may refer to all other anointed kings in whose lineage the Son stands. Although there is no specific reference to angels in this quotation, the link with the preceding quotation is such that a contrast to the angels remains the intention of the author. If this Son is who this psalm says, the superiority of the Son is transparently obvious.
1:10–12 The longest quotation in this chain is the sixth (Ps. 102:25–27). In the midst of his troubles the psalmist praises the Lord (Yahweh) as providing the permanence and security that he so painfully lacks. It is understood that these words are meant to apply to the Son. What is in view is the eternality of the Son over against all that is transitory. The opening lines, in the beginning, O Lord, you laid the foundations of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands, echo the statement of the prologue that the Son is the one “through whom he [God] made the universe” (v. 2). The Son is identified as the Lord (Yahweh). So far as the created order is concerned, the time is coming when it will be revamped, altered completely. In metaphorical language of the last times, the Lord will roll up the heavens and earth like a robe; like a garment they will be changed. But in the midst of eschatological crisis with all else appearing to fail, you remain the same, and your years will never end, the psalmist affirms. There is nothing else of which it can be said that it will remain forever, except God and what he chooses to sustain. Angels are even less in view in this passage than in the preceding one. The Son is being extolled as God. And the christological prologue of vv. 1–4 is thus undergirded by the quotation of these OT passages.
1:13 The seventh and climactic quotation introduces Psalm 110:1, that passage of such fundamental importance to the author of Hebrews, which we first encountered at the end of verse 3 in the final and climactic clause of the christological prologue. Here, however, we have the verse quoted in full. Again in mind is the ascension of Christ to the position of unparalleled honor and authority at the right hand of the Father. There he exercises his present reign, yet strangely, in a period when his enemies are not yet a footstool for your feet. This aspect almost certainly enhanced the meaningfulness of this verse for the early church, capturing as it does the tension between realized* (the fulfillment that has already occurred) and future (the wrapping up that still remains) aspects of the eschatological age. For our author the psalm is doubly meaningful because of the reference to the priesthood of Melchizedek and the utility of this reference for the author’s main argument (see below, 5:6–10 and chap. 7). The words that introduce this quotation again raise specifically the issue of the superiority of the Son to the angels. This verse, describing the vindicating capstone of the Son’s completed ministry, serves as one of the basic weapons in our author’s arsenal of arguments concerning the superiority of the person and work of the Son.
1:14 What then is a realistic estimate of angels and their function? They are ministering spirits; but, as has been shown, they have a subordinate role of serving God. God’s concern is not with angels, but with us, and he accordingly sends them to bring help to those who will inherit salvation. God and the Son are the source of our salvation, as the author will demonstrate so boldly in this epistle. By God’s grace, his servants serve us in and toward this end. The idea of personal aid from angels builds on an OT motif (e.g., Ps. 91:11), recalls the ministry of angels to Jesus (Matt. 4:11; compare 26:53), and is meant as a note of personal comfort and encouragement in the face of real difficulty for these Jewish Christians.
Additional Notes
The major concern with angels in the opening chapters of Hebrews has helped some scholars to reach conclusions about the addressees of the epistle. T. W. Manson saw a correlation between the argument of the author of Hebrews and that pursued by Paul against the Jewish-gnostic, Colossian heresy in which, among other things, the worship of angels is mentioned as a specific problem (Col. 2:18, cf. 2:15). He concluded that Apollos (as he argues) wrote Hebrews to the church at Colossae. (See “The Problem of the Epistle to the Hebrews,” Studies in the Gospels and Epistles [Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1962].) Hughes finds the concern with angels supportive of his tentative conclusion that the addressees were inclined toward the teaching of the Dead Sea Sect wherein angels played an exceptionally important role (p. 52f.). Montefiore, in contrast, points out convincingly that the concern with angels need point to nothing more specific than the probability that the Jewish readers would have found it easier to retain their Jewish presuppositions and a form of Christian experience if they were able to regard Jesus as merely an angel (p. 41f.). Angelology, after all, was in full flower in the intertestamental and rabbinic literature.
1:5 There is a good possibility that the author borrows this chain of quotations (vv. 5–13) from a previously existing collection. Evidence from Qumran indicates that collections of Scripture texts were used in the first century and, indeed, suggests that Ps. 2:7 and 2 Sam. 7:14 had been combined long before the writing of Hebrews. (See J. M. Allegro, “Further Messianic References in Qumran Literature” JBL 75 [1956], pp. 174ff.; J. A. Fitzmyer, “4Q Testimonia and the New Testament,” Theological Studies 15 [1957], pp. 513–37.) The dependence of the author on such a source is of course speculative, and it remains possible that he was himself the collector of these OT passages. See J. W. Thompson, “The Structure and Purpose of the Catena in Heb. 1:5–13,” CBQ 38 (1976), pp. 352–63. More generally on the subject of OT quotation in Hebrews (in addition to the material in the Introduction), see R. N. Longenecker, Biblical Exegesis in the Apostolic Period (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1975), pp. 158–85; G. B. Caird, “Exegetical Method of the Epistle to the Hebrews,” Canadian Journal of Theology 5 (1959), pp. 44–51; S. Kistemaker, The Psalm Citations in Hebrews (Amsterdam, 1961); S. Sowers, The Hermeneutics of Philo and Hebrews (Zurich, 1965).
Psalm 2 is an exceptionally important messianic text in the first century in both Jewish and Christian interpretation. For the former we have mentioned its presence in the Dead Sea Scrolls and may add Psalms of Solomon 17:23–27. For the latter, in addition to the three occurrences of 2:7 in Hebrews (see 5:5 and 7:28), see also Matt. 3:17, 2 Pet. 1:17, and especially Acts 13:33. Also noteworthy in the early Christian proclamation is the citation of Ps. 2:1–2 in Acts 4:25–26. Finally, several allusions to other verses of Ps. 2 are also found in Revelation.
Psalm 2:7 is a fundamental text for our author, whose Christology is expressed preeminently in the concept “Son of God” (4:14; 6:6; 7:3; 10:29). Son, used absolutely as in the prologue, of course carries the meaning “Son of God.” In this sonship lies the uniqueness of Jesus, who participates fully in the deity of the Father. To be the “Son of God” is to be one with God. See O. Cullmann, The Christology of the New Testament (Philadelphia: Westminster Press [ET], 1959) pp. 303–5.
The citation of 2 Sam. 7:14 implies the title “Son of David,” with its clear messianic connotation. That the “Son of David,” the messianic descendant, signified the dawning of the eschatological era was plain, but that he was also to be the Son of God was not understood prior to the fulfillment experienced by the church in the resurrection and exaltation of Jesus.
1:6 That our author regularly quotes the LXX is nowhere more evident than in the present quotation from Deut. 32:43, which is not found in the Hebrew Bible. The LXX is a pre-Christian translation of the OT (by a number of translators from the third century B.C. to the Christian era) and thus rests upon earlier Hebrew manuscripts than those that were handed down as canonical authority by the Masoretes (Jewish scholars who added vowels to the consonantal text and faithfully transmitted the text into the Middle Ages). That in the first century divergent Hebrew manuscripts of the same book were occasionally available is demonstrated by the discovery of the present quotation in a Hebrew manuscript of Deuteronomy among the scrolls at Qumran (cave 4). The LXX translator apparently had this verse in the Hebrew manuscript that he translated. (See F. M. Cross, Jr., The Ancient Library of Qumran, [New York: Doubleday, 1958], pp. 181ff.) The LXX is important for our author’s theology and argument throughout the book. Here, for example, it may be pointed out that the LXX’s translation of YHWH as kyrios (Lord) in the context of our quotation, serving as the antecedent of “him,” has facilitated our author’s use of this quotation in applying it to Christ. Since kyrios is the favorite title given to Christ in the early church, it becomes easy to identify Christ with the kyrios (YHWH) of the LXX. In v. 10 (“In the beginning, O Lord, you laid the foundations of the earth”) the identification is explicit. See further, K. J. Thomas, “The Old Testament Citations in Hebrews,” NTS 11 (1964–65), pp. 303–25; T. F. Glasson, “Plurality of Divine Persons and the Quotations in Hebrews 1, 6ff.,” NTS 12 (1966), pp. 270–72.
In the words that introduce this quotation, when God brings his firstborn into the world, the time of the sending of the Son into the world is unclear, that is, whether this refers to his earthly ministry or his second advent. For the former, one may note the reference to angels in Luke 2:13f. (or possibly Matt. 4:11); angels are of course regularly associated with the eschatological advent. If again is taken with reference to the sending, the second advent is indicated. More probably, however, the again simply refers to the adding of another quotation in which God speaks concerning the Son.
The word firstborn, applied to the Son, is to be understood in a special sense, referring not to the creation of the Son but to his supremacy of rank. He stands at the apex of all that exists, not as one who was born first, but rather with God over against the entire created order, which indeed exists only by the agency of the Son. The preeminence of the Son is thus conveyed by the word, as also in Paul (Col. 1:15, 18). The two other occurrences of the word in Hebrews (11:28; 12:23) do not refer directly to the Son. See further, L. R. Helyer, “The Prōtotokos Title in Hebrews,” Studia Biblica et Theologica 6 (1976), pp. 3–28.
1:7 The apocryphal book 2 Esdras (8:21) contains this interesting parallel, “who art attended by the host of angels trembling as they turn themselves into wind and fire at thy bidding” (NEB), which is itself probably dependent upon Ps. 104:4.
1:8–9 Your kingdom in some manuscripts reads his kingdom. The weight of manuscript evidence slightly favors your, as does the sense of the passage, which, if his is accepted, demands acceptance of the more difficult “God is your kingdom.” For an excellent study of these verses, see M. J. Harris, “The Translation and Significance of ho theos in Hebrews 1:8–9,” TB 36 (1985), pp. 129–62.
1:10–12 The LXX (Ps. 101:26 [NIV, 102:26]) has inserted “Lord” (kyrios) in the first line of this quotation, thereby making our author’s application of this passage to the Son (who is Lord) much easier. Although, however, the Hebrew lacks the vocative just at this point, the immediately preceding line (Ps. 102:24) reads: “O my God … your years go on through all generations.”
1:13 For the centrality of Ps. 110 for our author and the early church, see comment and note on 1:3.
1:14 The expression ministering spirits (leitourgika pneumata) is not found in the OT, but bears considerable resemblance to the description of the angels as “servants” (leitourgoi) in Ps. 104:4 (LXX: Ps. 103:4), which is quoted by the author in v. 7. Underlying NIV’s to serve (lit., “for service”) is the common NT noun diakonia, which occurs only here in Hebrews. The word inherit (klēronomeō) is important to the author (cf. 6:12, and cognate nouns in 6:17; 9:15; 11:7f.). This language reflects the reception of the fulfillment of the OT promises and is therefore particularly suitable for the author’s purpose when he writes of the salvation received by Christians. See W. Foerster, TDNT, vol. 3, pp. 776–85. On salvation (sōtēria), see note to 2:3.
On the entire passage, see J. P. Meier, “Symmetry and Theology in the Old Testament Citations of Heb. 1 5–14,” Biblica 66 (1985), pp. 504–33.
Direct Matches
The English word “angel” refers to nonhuman spirits, usually good. The biblical words usually translated “angel” mean “messenger” and can refer to one sent by God or by human beings. A messenger must be utterly loyal, reliable, and able to act confidentially (Prov. 13:17). The messenger speaks and acts in the name of the sender (Gen. 24).
Messengers sent by God are not always angels. Yahweh’s prophets were his messengers (Hag. 1:13), as were priests (Mal. 2:7).
The English word “messiah” derives from the Hebrew verb mashakh, which means “to anoint.” The Greek counterpart of the Hebrew word for “messiah” (mashiakh) is christos, which in English is “Christ.”
In English translations of the Bible, the word “messiah” (“anointed one”) occurs rarely in the OT. In the OT, kings, prophets, and priests were “anointed” with oil as a means of consecrating or setting them apart for their respective offices. Prophets and priests anointed Israel’s kings (1 Sam. 16:1 13; 2 Sam. 2:4, 7).
The expectation for a “messiah,” or “anointed one,” arose from the promise given to David in the Davidic covenant (2 Sam. 7). David was promised that from his seed God would raise up a king who would reign forever on his throne. Hopes for such an ideal king began with Solomon and developed further during the decline (cf. Isa. 9:1–7) and especially after the collapse of the Davidic kingdom.
The harsh reality of exile prompted Israel to hope that God would rule in such a manner. A number of psalms reflect the desire that an ideal son of David would come and rule, delivering Israel from its current plight of oppression. Hence, in Ps. 2 God declares that his son (v. 7), who is the Lord’s anointed one (v. 2), will receive “the nations [as] your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession” (v. 8). God promises that “you will rule them with an iron scepter; you will dash them to pieces like pottery” (v. 9; see NIV footnote). Jesus demonstrates great reticence in using the title “Messiah.” In the Synoptic Gospels he almost never explicitly claims it. The two key Synoptic passages where Jesus accepts the title are themselves enigmatic. In Mark’s version of Peter’s confession (8:29), Jesus does not explicitly affirm Peter’s claim, “You are the Messiah,” but instead goes on to speak of the suffering of the Son of Man. Later, Jesus is asked by the high priest Caiaphas at his trial, “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One?” (Mark 14:60). In Mark 14:62, Jesus answers explicitly with “I am,” while in Matt. 26:64, he uses the more enigmatic “You have said so.” Jesus then goes on to describe himself as the exalted Son of Man who will sit at Yahweh’s right hand.
Jesus no doubt avoided the title because it risked communicating an inadequate understanding of the kingdom and his messianic role. Although the Messiah was never a purely political figure in Judaism, he was widely expected to destroy Israel’s enemies and secure its physical borders. Psalms of Solomon portrays the coming “son of David” as one who will “destroy the unrighteous rulers” and “purge Jerusalem from Gentiles who trample her to destruction” (Pss. Sol. 17.21–23). To distance himself from such thinking, Jesus never refers to himself as “son of David” and “king of Israel/the Jews” as other characters do in the Gospels (Matt. 12:23; 21:9, 15; Mark 10:47; 15:2; John 1:49; 12:13; 18:33). When Jesus was confronted by a group of Jews who wanted to make him into such a king, he resisted them (John 6:15).
In Mark 12:35–37, Jesus also redefines traditional understandings of the son of David in his short discussion on Ps. 110:1: he is something more than a mere human son of David. Combining Jesus’ implicit affirmation that he is the Messiah in Mark 8:30 with his teaching about the Son of Man in 8:31, we see that Jesus is a Messiah who will “suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the teachers of the law” (8:31) and through whom redemption will come (10:45). Jesus came not to defeat the Roman legions, but to bring victory over Satan, sin, and death.
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).
People in the Bible were family-centered and staunchly loyal to their kin. Families formed the foundation of society. The extended family was the source of people’s status in the community and provided the primary economic, educational, religious, and social interactions.
Marriage and divorce. Marriage in the ancient Near East was a contractual arrangement between two families, arranged by the bride’s father or a male representative. The bride’s family was paid a dowry, a “bride’s price.” Paying a dowry was not only an economic transaction but also an expression of family honor. Only the rich could afford multiple dowries. Thus, polygamy was minimal. The wedding itself was celebrated with a feast provided by the father of the groom.
The primary purpose for marriage in the ancient Near East was to produce a male heir to ensure care for the couple in their old age. The concept of inheritance was a key part of the marriage customs, especially with regard to passing along possessions and property.
Marriage among Jews in the NT era still tended to be endogamous; that is, Jews sought to marry close kin without committing incest violations (Lev. 18:6 17). A Jewish male certainly was expected to marry a Jew. Exogamy, marrying outside the remote kinship group, and certainly outside the ethnos, was understood as shaming God’s holiness. Thus, a Jew marrying a Gentile woman was not an option. The Romans did practice exogamy. For them, marrying outside one’s kinship group (not ethnos) was based predominantly on creating strategic alliances between families.
Greek and Roman law allowed both men and women to initiate divorce. In Jewish marriages, only the husband could initiate divorce proceedings. If a husband divorced his wife, he had to release her and repay the dowry. Divorce was common in cases of infertility (in particular if the woman had not provided male offspring). Ben Sira comments that barrenness in a woman is a cause of anxiety to the father (Sir. 42:9–10). Another reason for divorce was adultery (Exod. 20:14; Deut. 5:18). Jesus, though, taught a more restrictive use of divorce than the OT (Mark 10:1–12).
Children and parenting. Childbearing was considered representative of God’s blessing on a woman and her entire family, in particular her husband. In contrast to this blessing, barrenness brought shame on women, their families, and specifically their husbands.
Children were of low social status in society. Infant mortality was high. An estimated 60 percent of the children in the first-century Mediterranean society were dead by the age of sixteen.
Ancient Near Eastern and Mediterranean societies exhibited a parenting style based on their view of human nature as a mixture of good and evil tendencies. Parents relied on physical punishment to prevent evil tendencies from developing into evil deeds (Prov. 29:15). The main concern of parents was to socialize the children into family loyalty. Lack of such loyalty was punished (Lev. 20:9). At a very early stage children were taught to accept the total authority of the father. The rearing of girls was entirely the responsibility of the women. Girls were taught domestic roles and duties as soon as possible so that they could help with household tasks.
Family identity was used as a metaphor in ancient Israel to speak of fidelity, responsibility, judgment, and reconciliation. In the OT, the people of Israel often are described as children of God. In their overall relationship to God, the people of Israel are referred to in familial terms—sons and daughters, spouse, and firstborn (Exod. 4:22). God is addressed as the father of the people (Isa. 63:16; 64:8) and referred to as their mother (Isa. 49:14–17).
The church as the family of God. Throughout his ministry, Jesus called his disciples to follow him. This was a call to loyalty (Matt. 10:32–40; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26), a call to fictive kinship, the family of God (Matt. 12:48–50; Mark 3:33–35). Jesus’ declaration “On this rock I will build my church” (Matt. 16:18) was preceded by the call to community. Entrance into the community was granted through adopting the values of the kingdom, belief, and the initiation rite of baptism (Matt. 10:37–39; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26, 57–63; John 1:12; 3:16; 10:27–29; Acts 2:38; 16:31–33; 17:30; Rom. 10:9). Jesus’ presence as the head of the community was eventually replaced by the promised Spirit (John 14:16–18). Through the Spirit, Jesus’ ministry continues in the community of his followers, God’s family—the church. See also Adoption.
The first child born to a married couple. In the OT it most commonly refers to the first male child, upon whom special privileges were bestowed. The OT describes some of the privileges associated with being the firstborn son: he would receive a double portion of the inheritance (a privilege codified in the law in Deut. 21:17), the paternal blessing (Gen. 27; 48:17 19), and other examples of favoritism (e.g., Gen. 43:33). The importance ascribed to the firstborn is also attested in the legislative requirement that the firstborn—people, animals, and produce—belong to Yahweh (Lev. 27:26; Deut. 15:19; and of people, note Num. 3:12–13), so stressing his primacy over Israel.
“Firstborn” language is also used figuratively in the OT. It is used of Israel as Yahweh’s firstborn in Exod. 4:22–23, wherein Pharaoh’s failure to release Yahweh’s firstborn results in the destruction of Egypt’s firstborn. God also declares the Davidic king to be his firstborn son in Ps. 89:27, highlighting the special favor that he would enjoy. “Firstborn” language can also be used figuratively to describe anything that receives a greater share, such as “the firstborn of Death” in Job 18:13 (NRSV) and “the firstborn of the poor” in Isa. 14:30 (NRSV).
Somewhat surprisingly, God does not adhere to the significance of primogeniture, frequently bestowing his favor on those who were not firstborn: Abel over Cain, Isaac over Ishmael, Jacob over Esau, Joseph and Judah over Reuben, Ephraim over Manasseh, Moses over Aaron, David over his brothers, and Solomon over Adonijah.
The NT presupposes an understanding of the significance of the firstborn. Jesus is specifically identified as Mary’s firstborn (Luke 2:7, 23). However, the description extends beyond mere notions of human primogeniture when Jesus is described as “firstborn over all creation” (Col. 1:15) and “firstborn from among the dead” (Col. 1:18; cf. Rev. 1:5). These expressions, in line with figurative use of “firstborn” language in the OT, express Jesus’ privileged place in both creation and the new creation.
There are seven references in the OT to “footstool,” only one of which is literal (2 Chron. 9:18); the other six are variously figurative. In 1 Chron. 28:2 the ark of the covenant is apparently referred to as God’s footstool (though this imagery clashes somewhat with other texts that seem to regard the ark as the seat of his throne). Psalm 99:5 commands worship at God’s footstool, perhaps referring to the temple (so also Ps. 132:7; Lam. 2:1). In Isa. 66:1 God declares that the earth is his footstool (seeing the universe as his temple). In Ps. 110:1 God tells the anointed king that he will make his enemies “a footstool for your feet.” Paintings from ancient Egypt depict Pharaoh’s footstool adorned with carvings of conquered enemies, and correspondence from both Egypt and Mesopotamia indicates that vassals referred to themselves as the king’s footstool.
In the NT, all the references to “footstool” are quotations of, or allusions to, the aforementioned OT passages (Matt. 5:35; Luke 20:43; Acts 2:35; 7:49; Heb. 1:13; 10:13).
The tangible presence of God, experienced as overwhelming power and splendor. The main Hebrew word referring to glory, kabod, has the root meaning “heavy” (1 Sam. 4:18), which in other contexts can mean “intense” (Exod. 9:3; NIV: “terrible”), “wealthy” (i.e., “heavy in possessions” [Gen. 13:2]), and “high reputation” (Gen. 34:19; NIV: “most honored”). When used of God, it refers to his person and his works. God reveals his glory to Israel and to Egypt at the crossing of the sea (Exod. 14:4, 17 19). He carefully reveals his glory to Moses after Israel’s sin with the golden calf in order to assure him that he will not abandon them (33:12–23).
In the NT the glory of God is made real in the person of Jesus Christ (John 1:14; Heb. 1:3). He is, after all, the very presence of God. When he returns on the clouds, he will fully reveal God’s glory (Matt. 24:30; Mark 13:26; Luke 21:27).
The present abode of God and the final dwelling place of the righteous. The ancient Jews distinguished three different heavens. The first heaven was the atmospheric heavens of the clouds and where the birds fly (Gen. 1:20). The second heaven was the celestial heavens of the sun, the moon, and the stars. The third heaven was the present home of God and the angels. Paul builds on this understanding of a third heaven in 2 Cor. 12:2 4, where he describes himself as a man who “was caught up to the third heaven” or “paradise,” where he “heard inexpressible things.” This idea of multiple heavens also shows itself in how the Jews normally spoke of “heavens” in the plural (Gen. 1:1), while most other ancient cultures spoke of “heaven” in the singular.
Although God is present everywhere, God is also present in a special way in “heaven.” During Jesus’ earthly ministry, the Father is sometimes described as speaking in “a voice from heaven” (Matt. 3:17). Similarly, Jesus instructs us to address our prayers to “Our Father in heaven” (6:9). Even the specific request in the Lord’s Prayer that “your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (6:10) reminds us that heaven is a place already under God’s full jurisdiction, where his will is presently being done completely and perfectly. Jesus also warns of the dangers of despising “one of these little ones,” because “their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven” (18:10). Jesus “came down from heaven” (John 6:51) for his earthly ministry, and after his death and resurrection, he ascended back “into heaven,” from where he “will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven” (Acts 1:11).
Given this strong connection between heaven and God’s presence, there is a natural connection in Scripture between heaven and the ultimate hope of believers. Believers are promised a reward in heaven (“Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven” [Matt. 5:12]), and even now believers can “store up for [themselves] treasures in heaven” (6:20). Even in this present life, “our citizenship is in heaven” (Phil. 3:20), and our hope at death is to “depart and be with Christ, which is better by far” (1:23). Since Christ is currently in heaven, deceased believers are already present with Christ in heaven awaiting his return, when “God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him” (1 Thess. 4:14).
Family. In the ancient world every culture had customs for the passing of wealth and possessions from one generation to the next. In ancient Israel special provisions were made for inheriting land upon the death of the father. The firstborn son received a double portion; the rest was divided equally among the remaining sons. If a man lacked sons, priority went to the following in order: daughters, brothers, father’s brothers, next of kin (Num. 27:1 11). The OT provides guidance for additional circumstances (Gen. 38:8–9; Num. 36:6; Lev. 25:23–24; Deut. 21:15–17; 25:5–10; Ruth 2:20; 3:9–13; 4:1–12), with an overriding concern for the stability of the family and the retention of the land within a tribe. Under Roman law during the NT period, an heir had legal standing even while the father was still alive; his status was based on birth or adoption rather than the father’s death.
Old Testament. Even more prominent than family inheritance is the assertion that God gave the land of Canaan to Abraham and his descendants as an inheritance (Gen. 12:7; 15:18–21; 17:8; Num. 34:1–29; Deut. 12:10). This inheritance is God’s gracious gift, not something that Israel earned by its righteousness (Deut. 9:4–7). Descriptions of the land (“flowing with milk and honey”) and its fertility portray this gift as a new Eden, where God will dwell with his people (Exod. 3:8, 17; Lev. 20:24; Num. 16:13–14; Deut. 11:9–12). In some texts the language of inheritance moves beyond the land of Canaan to an international scope. In Ps. 2:8 the anointed king recounts God saying to him, “Ask me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession.” This expansion of inheritance from the land of Canaan to the ends of the earth prepares the way for a similar expansion in the NT (see Rom. 4:13).
God’s relationship with Israel is also described in terms of inheritance. On the one hand, Israel is described as God’s inheritance (Deut. 32:9; 1 Sam. 10:1; 1 Kings 8:51–53); on the other hand, God is Israel’s inheritance (Pss. 16:5; 73:26; Jer. 10:16; 51:19). This mutuality expresses the intimacy of God’s relationship with Israel.
New Testament. Inheritance language is taken up in the NT and expanded in a variety of ways. First and foremost, Jesus Christ is the “heir of all things,” the Son to whom the Father has given all authority in heaven and on earth (Matt. 28:18–20; Heb. 1:2–5). Through their union with Christ, believers share in Christ’s inheritance (Rom. 8:17), having been qualified by the Father to share in that inheritance (Col. 1:12). What believers inherit is described in various ways: the earth (Matt. 5:5), eternal life (Luke 10:25), the kingdom (1 Cor. 6:9–10; James 2:5), salvation (Heb. 1:14), blessing (Heb. 12:17; 1 Pet. 3:9). This inheritance was enacted by the death of Christ and sealed by his blood (Heb. 9:15–28). Believers experience the benefits of this inheritance through the Spirit now (Eph. 1:14, 18), but its fullness is reserved in heaven and awaits the consummation (1 Pet. 1:4–6).
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.
A kingdom signifies the reality and extent of a king’s dominion or rule (Gen. 10:10; 20:9; Num. 32:33; 2 Kings 20:13; Esther 1:22). Some kingdoms were relatively small; others were concerted attempts to gain the whole world.
A kingdom presupposes monarchy, rule by an individual, human authority. Although kings only have as much authority as their armies and the general populace allow, they nevertheless exercise an almost absolute power, which invites either profound humility or hubris. Royal arrogance, unfortunately, is the primary motif characterizing kings in the Bible (e.g., Dan. 3).
God originally intended Israel to be governed as a theocracy, ruled by the one, true, living God (but see Gen. 17:6; Deut. 17:14 20). Israel was to be a “kingdom of priests” (Exod. 19:6), but the people demanded a king (1 Sam. 8:1–22). However, even when God granted their request, God remained King over the king and even retained ownership of the land (Lev. 25:23, 42, 55). The Israelite king was nothing more than God’s viceroy, with delegated authority. With few exceptions, most of the kings of Israel and Judah were corrupted by authority and wealth and forgot God (1 Sam. 13:13–14; 15:28; Matt. 14:6–11). But God made a covenant with David, so that one of his descendants would become a coregent in a restored theocracy, the kingdom of God (2 Sam. 7:1–29; Pss. 89:3; 132:11). In contrast to David’s more immediate descendants, this coming king would return to Jerusalem humble and mounted on a donkey (Zech. 9:9; cf. Isa. 62:11). The Gospels present Jesus Christ as this king (Matt. 21:1–9 pars.). Those who are likewise humble will inherit the land with him (Matt. 5:5).
In the NT the most common word used for “minister” is diakonos (e.g., 2 Cor. 3:6), and for “ministry,” diakonia (e.g., 1 Cor. 16:15 [NIV: “service”]). These words function as umbrella terms for NT writers to describe the whole range of ministries performed by the church. They can describe either a special ministry performed by an official functionary (1 Cor. 3:5) or one performed by any believer (Rev. 2:19). In the early church, ministry was based not on institutional hierarchies but on services performed (1 Tim. 3:1 13).
The ministry of Jesus. The church’s mind-set flows out of the way in which Jesus understood his ministry. He described his ministry pattern as that of serving (Matt. 20:28; Mark 10:45; John 13:4–17). Thus, he called his disciples to follow a model of leadership in the new community that did not elevate them above others (Matt. 20:20–28; 23:8–12; cf. 1 Pet. 5:3).
Jesus’ ministry provides the paradigm for the ministry of the church. The NT writers describe the threefold ministry of Jesus as preaching, teaching, and healing (Matt. 4:23; 9:35; Mark 1:14, 21–22, 39; Acts 10:36–38). The disciples carried on the earthly ministry of Jesus by the power of the Spirit. They too engaged in preaching, teaching, and healing (Matt. 10:7–8; 28:19–20).
The ministry of the church. The church, because it is the body of Christ, continues these ministry responsibilities. In 1 Pet. 4:10–11 is a summary of the overarching ministries of the church, which include speaking the words of God and serving. As a priesthood of believers (Exod. 19:4–6; 1 Pet. 2:5, 9; Rev. 1:5–6), individual members took responsibility for fulfilling the various tasks of service. Thus, all Christians are called to minister (Rom. 15:27; Philem. 13; 1 Pet. 2:16). Even when a member strayed, it was another believer’s responsibility to confront that wayward person and, if necessary, involve others in the body to help (Matt. 18:15–20).
Although ministry was the responsibility of all believers, there were those with special expertise whom Christ and the church set apart for particular leadership roles (Eph. 4:11–12). Christ set apart Apollos and Paul for special ministries (1 Cor. 3:5; Eph. 3:7). The church called on special functionaries to carry out specific ministries. For example, the early church appointed seven individuals to serve tables (Acts 6:2). They appointed certain ones to carry the relief fund collected for the Jerusalem Christians (2 Cor. 8:19, 23). As special functionaries, Paul, Apollos, Timothy, Titus, the elders, as well as others accepted the responsibility of teaching and preaching and healing for the whole church.
All the ministries of the church, whether performed by believers in general or by some specially appointed functionary, were based on gifts received from God (Rom. 12:1–8; 1 Cor. 12:4–26). God gave individuals the abilities necessary to perform works of service (Acts 20:24; Eph. 4:11; Col. 4:17; 1 Tim. 1:12; 1 Pet. 4:11). The NT, however, makes it clear that when it comes to one’s relationship and spiritual status before God, all Christians are equal. Yet in equality there is diversity of gifts and talents. Paul identifies some gifts given to individuals for special positions: apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers (Eph. 4:11). The description here is of special ministry roles that Christ calls certain individuals to fulfill based on the gifts given to them. The ones fulfilling these roles did not do all the ministry of the church but rather equipped the rest of the body to do ministry (Eph. 4:12–13). No one can boast in the gifts given to him or her because those gifts were given for ministry to others (1 Cor. 4:7). Thus, gifts lead to service, and in turn service results in leadership.
It becomes the responsibility of those who lead to equip others for ministry. When others are equipped for ministry, they in turn minister and edify the whole body (Eph. 4:15–16; 2 Tim. 2:1–2). The goal of all ministry, according to Paul, is to build up a community of believers until all reach maturity in Christ (Rom. 15:15–17; 1 Cor. 3:5–4:5; Eph. 4:12–16; 1 Thess. 2:19–20).
Almost all the oil to which the Bible refers is olive oil. Oil was used primarily for cooking, but also for medicinal purposes, cosmetics, lighting, and religious ceremonies.
Oil was one of the major export products of Palestine, with huge economic impact on Israel and Judah. Oil often was used as currency for other needed materials (Deut. 7:13; Neh. 5:11; Luke 16:6). For example, Elisha performed a miracle with oil to help a widow pay her debts (2 Kings 4:7). Oil was kept as part of the royal stores (2 Kings 20:13; 2 Chron. 32:28). There are dozens of ostraca that detail the trading, bartering, and selling of oil.
Oil was one of the main ingredients for cooking. A typical meal consisted of flour pressed together with oil and fried with oil on a griddle (1 Kings 17:12 16). This was also the typical way in which grain offerings were made at the tabernacle and temple (Lev. 2:1, 4–7). Oil was also used in lamps because it burned cleanly and produced bright light (2 Kings 4:10; Matt. 25:3–8). Lamps were used throughout the house. Small lamps, often no larger than a hand, were used to give people light when they were walking and traveling at night. In such instances, extra oil usually was carried as a reserve (Matt. 25:1–13). Both the tabernacle and the temple used olive oil to light their lamps. The finest oil was also used for sacrifices at the tabernacle (Exod. 27:20; 29:40; Lev. 24:2; Num. 28:5).
Oil was used cosmetically as well. For instance, oil was put in the hair for beauty (Eccles. 9:8). Oil was also the normal base for perfumes, mixed with a variety of spices (Esther 2:12). The tabernacle had special anointing oil that was mixed to make a perfume (Exod. 30:25). Oil was also used medicinally to help heal wounds, either by mixing it with other substances or by itself to help seal a wound (Luke 10:34). The elders of the church were commissioned to pray for and anoint the sick with oil (James 5:14).
A prophet is a messenger of God, a person to whom God entrusts his message to an individual or to a nation. Indeed, the last book in the OT is named “Malachi,” which means “my messenger.” Isaiah heard God ask, “Whom shall I send?” and he cried out, “Send me!” (Isa. 6:8). A good template for understanding the phenomenon is Moses and Aaron. Moses was to tell Aaron what to say, and Aaron would say it. “Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘See, I have made you like God to Pharaoh, and your brother Aaron will be your prophet’” (Exod. 7:1).
In the NT period there were a number of prophets. John the Baptist could point to Jesus and proclaim him to be the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world (John 1:29). Agabus the prophet predicted a famine and, later, Paul’s arrest (Acts 11:28; 21:10 11).
Paul lists “gifts of the Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:4–11), including prophecy and various phenomena reminiscent of the OT prophets’ ecstatic state. Paul warns the Corinthians not to overdo this sort of thing and so to be mature (1 Cor. 14:19–20). Near the end of his life, in one of his last letters, he speaks of prophecy as normative in the church, particularly in establishing an authoritative body of elders to rule and especially to preach the gospel (1 Tim. 1:18; 4:14). Peter draws a connection between the ministry of the OT prophets and the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Evangelism seems to be the normative mode for prophecy today: forthtelling by calling people to turn from their sins to Jesus, and foretelling by speaking of his return and the final judgment.
Thus, all Christians hold the office of prophet, even if they never participate in the ecstatic state experienced by the Corinthians. The greatness of a prophet is in how clearly the prophet points to Jesus. John the Baptist was the greatest of the OT prophets by that measure, but any Christian on this side of the cross and resurrection can proclaim the gospel even more clearly. Thus, the prophetic ministry of any Christian is greater than John’s (Matt. 11:11).
Five prophetesses are mentioned in the OT: Miriam (Exod. 15:20), Deborah (Judg. 4–5), Huldah (2 Kings 22:14–20; 2 Chron. 34:22–28), Isaiah’s wife (Isa. 8:3), and Noadiah (Neh. 6:14).
Similarly in the NT, Peter recognizes God’s promise through Joel being fulfilled in the gift of prophetic speech to women as well as men at Pentecost (Acts 2:18); and Paul, acknowledging that women prophesy publicly in the congregation, is concerned only with the manner of their doing so (1 Cor. 11:5). The prophetess Anna proclaims the baby Jesus as the Messiah (Luke 2:36–38), Luke reports that the four unmarried daughters of Philip the evangelist also prophesy (Acts 21:8–9). The only false prophetess in the NT is the apocalyptic figure of Jezebel in Rev. 2:20.
The concepts of purity and purification are largely unfamiliar to modern Western readers of the Bible. These terms often appear in cultic contexts and are used to refer to physical, ritual, and ethical purity. They are most frequently applied to the process needed to restore someone to a state of purity so that he or she could participate in ritual activities once again (Lev. 22:4 7). These terms are cultural and theological, serving to constrain actions and behaviors through definite boundaries; thus, in their ancient use they have little to do with modern notions of hygiene (e.g., diseases that may be caught from a pig [Lev. 13]; the medical advantages of washing [Lev. 15]; quarantining a leper [Lev. 13]). Although some have attempted to relate the rules of purity to simple physical events, such modern medical rationale cannot account for the range of prohibitions or find explicit support in the text.
In the NT, the idea of ceremonial purity as an important element in Jewish life appears in John 11:55; Acts 21:23; 24:18. But just as in the prophets, the notion of purity is applied to a life lived in wholehearted devotion to God. An individual is purified when obeying the truth (1 Pet. 1:22). James describes repentance in terms of purity: “Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded” (James 4:8); and he describes helping those in distress as the kind of genuine piety that “God our Father accepts as pure and faultless” (James 1:27).
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.
A rod, club, or mace that signified royal authority and power. The king ruled over the nation and enemies with his primary weapon, the scepter (Num. 24:17; Pss. 2:9; 110:2).
“Word” is used in the Bible to refer to the speech of God in oral, written, or incarnate form. In each of these uses, God desires to make himself known to his people. The communication of God is always personal and relational, whether he speaks to call things into existence (Gen. 1) or to address an individual directly (Gen. 2:16 17; Exod. 3:14). The prophets and the apostles received the word of God (Deut. 18:14–22; John 16:13), some of which was proclaimed but not recorded. The greatest revelation in this regard is the person of Jesus Christ, who is called the “Word” of God (John 1:1, 14).
The psalmist declared God’s word to be an eternal object of hope and trust that gives light and direction (Ps. 119), and Jesus declared the word to be truth (John 17:17). The word is particularized and intimately connected with God himself by means of the key phrases “your word,” “the word of God,” “the word of the Lord,” “word about Christ,” and “the word of Christ” (Rom. 10:17; Col. 3:16). Our understanding of the word is informed by a variety of terms and contexts in the canon of Scripture, a collection of which is found in Ps. 119.
The theme of the word in Ps. 119 is continued and clarified in the NT, accentuating the intimate connection between the word of God and God himself. The “Word” of God is the eternal Lord Jesus Christ (John 1:1; 1 John 1:1–4), who took on flesh and blood so that we might see the glory of the eternal God. The sovereign glory of Christ as the Word of God is depicted in the vision of John in Rev. 19:13. As the Word of God, Jesus Christ ultimately gives us our lives (John 1:4; 6:33; 10:10), sustains our lives (John 5:24; 6:51, 54; 8:51), and ultimately renders a just judgment regarding our lives (John 5:30; 8:16, 26; 9:39; cf. Matt. 25:31–33; Heb. 4:12).
The Bible has much to say about works, and an understanding of the topic is important because works play a role in most religions. In the most generic sense, “works” refers to the products or activities of human moral agents in the context of religious discussion. God’s works are frequently mentioned in Scripture, and they are always good. His works include creation (Gen. 2:2 3; Isa. 40:28; 42:5), sustenance of the earth (Ps. 104; Heb. 1:3), and redemption (Exod. 6:6; Ps. 111:9; Rom. 8:23). Human works, therefore, should be in alignment with God’s works, though obviously of a different sort. Works in the Bible usually reflect a moral polarity: good or evil, righteous or unrighteous, just or unjust. The context of the passage often determines the moral character of the works (e.g., Isa. 3:10–11; 2 Cor. 11:15).
Important questions follow from the existence of works and their moral quality. Do good works merit God’s favor or please him? Can good works save at the time of God’s judgment? When people asked Jesus, “What must we do to do the works God requires?” he answered, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent” (John 6:28–29). Without faith it is impossible to please God (Heb. 11:6). The people from the OT commended in Heb. 11 did their works in the precondition of faith. Explicitly in the NT and often implicitly in the OT, faith is the condition for truly good works. God elects out of his mercy, not out of human works (Rom. 9:12, 16; Titus 3:5; cf. Rom. 11:2). Works not done in faith, even if considered “good” by human standards, are not commendable to God, since all humankind is under sin (Rom. 3:9) and no person is righteous or does good (Rom. 3:10–18; cf. Isa. 64:6). Works cannot save; salvation is a gift to be received by faith (Eph. 2:8–9; 2 Tim. 1:9; cf. Rom. 4:2–6). Even works of the Mosaic law are not salvific (Rom. 3:20, 27–28; Gal. 2:16; 3:2; 5:4). Good works follow from faith (2 Cor. 9:8; Eph. 2:10; 1 Thess. 1:3; James 2:18, 22; cf. Acts 26:20). The works of those who have faith will be judged, but this judgment appears to be related to rewards, not salvation (Matt. 16:27; Rom. 2:6; 2 Cor. 5:10; cf. Rom. 14:10; 1 Cor. 3:13–15).
Worship of God is a critical dimension of both Testaments. One might argue that it is the very goal for which Israel and the church were formed.
The living God is the sole object of worship. He delights in the satisfying joy that his children find in him. The nature of worship is not about servant entertainment or passive observation; it is an active acknowledgment of God’s worth in a variety of humble ways.
A genuine selfless focus on the person and work of God brings about a humble response that affects one’s posture, generates works of service, and stirs up a healthy attitude of fear and respect. Knowledge of God is the foundational element in worship. God is worshiped for who he is and what he does. He is the Eternal One (Ps. 90:1; 1 Tim. 1:17), unique in every way (Isa. 44:8); he is God alone (Deut. 6:4). He is distinguished by his self-existence, the self-reliant quality of his life (Exod. 3:14; Deut. 32:30). The psalmist calls God’s people to shout joyfully to their good, loving, eternal, and faithful Creator (Ps. 100).
God is worshiped as the Creator of all life. This magnificent creative work of God, declared in the opening of Genesis, is a critical focus in worship (Ps. 95:6; Rom. 1:25; Rev. 4:11). Along with this is the companion declaration that God is the redeemer. The redemptive work of God is celebrated in the Song of Moses (Exod. 15:1 18) and in the Song of the Redeemed (Rev. 14:3).
Worship is also associated with the royal aspects of God’s character. It was the desire of the magi to find Jesus the king and worship him (Matt. 2:1–2). The final scenes of history will be characterized by humble submission to and worship of the King of kings (1 Tim. 6:15; Rev. 17:14; 19:16; cf. Rev. 15:3–4). The psalms often draw the reader’s attention to God’s royal character as a basis for worship (Pss. 45:11; 98:6).
Finally, God is worshiped as the Lord of his covenant relationship with the nation of Israel. This covenant theme and metaphor summarize the varied aspects of God’s character and his relationship with Israel. The God who brought Israel into a covenant relationship is to be sincerely and exclusively worshiped (2 Kings 17:35, 38; cf. Deut. 31:20). These confessional statements about the character of God are a glorious weight that moves believers to prostrate themselves, to have an attitude of awe and respect, and to obediently serve.
Direct Matches
The English word “angel” refers to nonhuman spirits, usually good. The biblical words usually translated “angel” (Heb. malak; Gk. angelos) mean “messenger” and can refer to one sent by God or by human beings. A messenger must be utterly loyal, reliable, and able to act confidentially (Prov. 13:17). The messenger speaks and acts in the name of the sender (Gen. 24).
Messengers sent by God are not always angels. Yahweh’s prophets were his messengers (Hag. 1:13), as were priests (Mal. 2:7).
Old Testament
There are few references to angels (plural) in the OT. In heaven they praise God and worship him (Pss. 103:20; 148:2). God sends his angels to accompany his people (Gen. 28:12; 32:1) and to protect them (Ps. 91:11) and once sent them to destroy Egypt (Ps. 78:49).
An angel in human form was referred to as a “man of God” (Judg. 13:6), the same term used for a prophet (cf. 1 Kings 13:14).
Angels evoked fear and wonder. They are described as shining (Matt. 28:3; Acts 12:7). When humans bowed to worship angels, they were rebuked because God alone is to be worshiped (Rev. 22:8–9).
God himself, not being a part of the created order, cannot be seen. In order to communicate with people, he sometimes speaks through a form called “the angel of the Lord.” The angel of the Lord appeared to Abraham in human form (Gen. 18; cf. Josh. 5:13–15), but to Moses as fire (Exod. 3:2). When he spoke, it was God speaking (Exod. 3:4, 14). He guided and guarded Israel out of Egypt and through the desert (23:20–23). He appeared within the pillar of fire or cloud (13:21–22; 14:19), being seen through the pillar on occasion as “the glory of the Lord” (16:7–10; 24:16–17; 33:9–11; 40:17, 34–38), and later as he filled Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 8:11).
In a series of visions of the glory of the Lord (Ps. 18:7–15; Ezek. 1; Rev. 4:7) we encounter four “living creatures” called “cherubim” (Ezek. 10:20–22) that are not explicitly identified as angels and whose visible appearance is part human and part animal. Their form was placed on the cover of the Ark of the Covenant (Exod. 25:18) and embroidered on the curtains of the tabernacle (26:1). Cherubim guarded the eastern entry into the garden of Eden (Gen. 3:24), implying that Eden, the place where God appeared on earth, was now excluded from the area allocated to humankind.
In Isaiah’s vision of God’s glory, he describes, literally, “flaming ones” (Heb. seraphim) located above God and crying, “Holy, holy, holy” (Isa. 6:1–7). All we know of them is that they had six wings, whereas the cherubim had four (Ezek. 1:11). It may be that seraphim are not a separate class of angels but simply a description appropriate to all angels, since elsewhere we are told (Ps. 104:4; Heb. 1:7) that God’s angels are “flames of fire.”
Angels are also called “holy ones” (Deut. 33:2) and “spirits” or “winds” (Zech. 6:5; cf. Ps. 104:4). Since God’s people are also called “holy ones” (Dan. 7:27; NIV: “holy people”), it may be difficult to know if a given reference is to angels or people (e.g., Deut. 33:3).
Angels are first named in the book of Daniel: Gabriel, whose name means “hero of God” (8:16; 9:21; [cf. Luke 1:19, 26]); Michael, whose name means “who is like God?” (10:13, 21; 12:1 [cf. Jude 9; Rev. 12:7]) and who is also called “one of the chief princes,” “your prince,” and “the great prince.” The Hebrew word for “prince” (sar) also means “commander” (e.g., 1 Sam. 17:55) and thus might refer to Michael’s standing as a commander of God’s angelic armies (cf. Jude 9, where he is called “archangel”). During the intertestamental period, texts outside the Scriptures tend to give more attention to angels in elaborate stories, introducing such names as Raphael and Uriel (see Tobit, 1 Enoch, etc.).
Intertestamental Period and New Testament
During the intertestamental period some Jews came to think that angels ranked higher than humans, since the Greeks asserted that anything physical was evil and only purely spiritual beings could be holy. Increasingly detailed stories about angels served to distance God from the evils of physical reality. The myth of the fall of the angels arose during this time through a series of writings claiming to come from the pen of Enoch (1 Enoch), stimulating a large number of other writings. Some people even went so far as to worship angels (Col. 2:18).
Some references to angels are difficult to understand. In Matt. 18:10 Jesus warns people to treat children well because their angels have constant access to God. The simplest meaning is that angelic messengers will tell God what has happened with these children. Rhoda’s reference to Peter’s “angel” as if it were his ghost probably reflects a local superstition (Acts 12:15) or a sectarian Jewish belief that the righteous become angels when they die. Paul’s comment that a woman should have “authority over her own head” (i.e., her head covered) “because of the angels” (1 Cor. 11:10) remains something of a puzzle, and his unique reference to the language of angels appears to be hyperbole (1 Cor. 13:1).
Paul warns us that Satan can appear as “an angel of light,” meaning that he would work through one who claimed to bring a message in accord with the gospel (2 Cor. 11:14). The devil has his “angels/messengers” (Matt. 25:41), although we know little about them.
Angels do not marry, reproduce, or die (Matt. 22:30; Mark 12:25; Luke 20:35–36). The NT affirms that angels rank below God’s people and serve them (1 Cor. 6:3; Heb.1:4–14; 2:5, 16), as they did Jesus (Matt. 4:11; Mark 1:13; cf. 1 Kings 19:5–7; Luke 22:43). Angels have limited understanding or knowledge of God’s plans and purposes (1 Pet. 1:12), although they reveal God’s word (Rev. 1:1). They bring the spirits of God’s people to heaven when they die (Luke 16:22) and implement God’s judgment on the last day (Matt. 13:39, 49; 16:27; 24:31; 25:31; Mark 8:38; 13:27; Luke 9:26; 2 Thess. 1:7; Rev. 14:15–19). They rejoice when a sinner repents (Luke 15:10). Christians already stand in the greater assembly that includes the angels (Heb.12:22). Eventually, Jesus will welcome his people into the heavenly courtroom in the presence of the angels (Luke 12:8–9; Rev. 3:5). See also Archangel.
There are seven references in the OT to “footstool,” only one of which is literal (2 Chron. 9:18); the other six are variously figurative. In 1 Chron. 28:2 the ark of the covenant is apparently referred to as God’s footstool (though this imagery clashes somewhat with other texts that seem to regard the ark as the seat of his throne). Psalm 99:5 commands worship at God’s footstool, perhaps referring to the temple (so also Ps. 132:7; Lam. 2:1). In Isa. 66:1 God declares that the earth is his footstool (seeing the universe as his temple). In Ps. 110:1 God tells the anointed king that he will make his enemies “a footstool for your feet.” Paintings from ancient Egypt depict Pharaoh’s footstool adorned with carvings of conquered enemies, and correspondence from both Egypt and Mesopotamia indicates that vassals referred to themselves as the king’s footstool.
In the NT, all the references to “footstool” are quotations of, or allusions to, the aforementioned OT passages (Matt. 5:35; Luke 20:43; Acts 2:35; 7:49; Heb. 1:13; 10:13).
The tangible presence of God, experienced as overwhelming power and splendor. The main Hebrew word referring to glory, kabod, has the root meaning “heavy” (1 Sam. 4:18), which in other contexts can mean “intense” (Exod. 9:3; NIV: “terrible”), “wealthy” (i.e., “heavy in possessions” [Gen. 13:2]), and “high reputation” (Gen. 34:19; NIV: “most honored”). When used of God, it refers to his person and his works. God reveals his glory to Israel and to Egypt at the crossing of the sea (Exod. 14:4, 17–19). He carefully reveals his glory to Moses after Israel’s sin with the golden calf in order to assure him that he will not abandon them (33:12–23).
God’s glory is often associated with a cloud. Perhaps better stated, God’s glory often is intentionally obscured by a cloud so that people are not overwhelmed by the radiance of his presence. Such is the case on top of Mount Sinai as Moses ascends it (Exod. 24:15–18). God’s glory as associated with the cloud is also closely connected to the tabernacle and the temple. When the tabernacle is completed, God makes his presence known there by filling it with the cloud that represents his glory (Exod. 40:34–38). Later, the temple too is filled with God’s glory made manifest in the cloud (1 Kings 8:10–11). The ark of the covenant, the most potent symbol of God’s presence, is also seen as a manifestation of his glory (1 Sam. 4:21–22).
God’s glory is overwhelming, and human beings cannot experience its fullness and survive. Thus, glory is often connected with God’s acts of judgment. For instance, when Korah the Levite and Abiram the Reubenite rebel in the wilderness, God appears ready for judgment against the people in the form of the glory-cloud (Num. 16:19–21), though Moses’ intercession spares the bulk of the people from the judgment that comes on the leaders of the rebellion (see also 16:41).
The Psalms celebrate God’s glory. Psalm 24 is an example. The original setting of the psalm is likely the return of the ark of the covenant from the battlefield. The priest at the head of the army, led by the ark, asks a priest or gatekeeper, “Lift up your heads, you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.” The priestly gatekeeper asks, “Who is this King of glory?” eliciting the response, “The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle.” Many other psalms share this theme or call on Israel to glorify the Lord (see Pss. 29:9; 34:3; 63:3; 104:31 as examples).
The prophets have the privilege of intimate fellowship with God and profound experiences of God’s glory. Isaiah accepts his commission as a prophet in a vision of the throne room of God. He sees angelic figures calling out: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory” (Isa. 6:3). Ezekiel reports an amazing encounter with God in his glory that causes him to fall facedown on the ground (Ezek. 1:28).
In the NT the glory of God is made real in the person of Jesus Christ (John 1:14; Heb. 1:3). He is, after all, the very presence of God. When he returns on the clouds, he will fully reveal God’s glory (Matt. 24:30; Mark 13:26; Luke 21:27).
Inheritance is an important concept that the Bible uses in several ways.
Family. In the ancient world every culture had customs for the passing of wealth and possessions from one generation to the next. In ancient Israel special provisions were made for inheriting land upon the death of the father. The firstborn son received a double portion; the rest was divided equally among the remaining sons. If a man lacked sons, priority went to the following in order: daughters, brothers, father’s brothers, next of kin (Num. 27:1–11). The OT provides guidance for additional circumstances (Gen. 38:8–9; Num. 36:6; Lev. 25:23–24; Deut. 21:15–17; 25:5–10; Ruth 2:20; 3:9–13; 4:1–12), with an overriding concern for the stability of the family and the retention of the land within a tribe. Under Roman law during the NT period, an heir had legal standing even while the father was still alive; his status was based on birth or adoption rather than the father’s death.
Old Testament. Even more prominent than family inheritance is the assertion that God gave the land of Canaan to Abraham and his descendants as an inheritance (Gen. 12:7; 15:18–21; 17:8; Num. 34:1–29; Deut. 12:10). This inheritance is God’s gracious gift, not something that Israel earned by its righteousness (Deut. 9:4–7). Descriptions of the land (“flowing with milk and honey”) and its fertility portray this gift as a new Eden, where God will dwell with his people (Exod. 3:8, 17; Lev. 20:24; Num. 16:13–14; Deut. 11:9–12). In some texts the language of inheritance moves beyond the land of Canaan to an international scope. In Ps. 2:8 the anointed king recounts God saying to him, “Ask me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession.” This expansion of inheritance from the land of Canaan to the ends of the earth prepares the way for a similar expansion in the NT (see Rom. 4:13).
God’s relationship with Israel is also described in terms of inheritance. On the one hand, Israel is described as God’s inheritance (Deut. 32:9; 1 Sam. 10:1; 1 Kings 8:51–53); on the other hand, God is Israel’s inheritance (Pss. 16:5; 73:26; Jer. 10:16; 51:19). This mutuality expresses the intimacy of God’s relationship with Israel.
New Testament. Inheritance language is taken up in the NT and expanded in a variety of ways. First and foremost, Jesus Christ is the “heir of all things,” the Son to whom the Father has given all authority in heaven and on earth (Matt. 28:18–20; Heb. 1:2–5). Through their union with Christ, believers share in Christ’s inheritance (Rom. 8:17), having been qualified by the Father to share in that inheritance (Col. 1:12). What believers inherit is described in various ways: the earth (Matt. 5:5), eternal life (Luke 10:25), the kingdom (1 Cor. 6:9–10; James 2:5), salvation (Heb. 1:14), blessing (Heb. 12:17; 1 Pet. 3:9). This inheritance was enacted by the death of Christ and sealed by his blood (Heb. 9:15–28). Believers experience the benefits of this inheritance through the Spirit now (Eph. 1:14, 18), but its fullness is reserved in heaven and awaits the consummation (1 Pet. 1:4–6).
The connection between the believer’s inheritance and the Spirit is especially prominent in Paul. In Gal. 4:1–7 Paul uses a combination of exodus and legal imagery to explain the gospel. Before Christ came, God’s people were heirs under the care of guardians and trustees. But once Christ came and redeemed them from under the law, they received their full inheritance as adopted sons and daughters. Central to that inheritance is the gift of the Spirit, who cries out, “Abba, Father.” It is this gift of the Spirit that definitively marks believers as sons and daughters rather than slaves. Because believers possess the Spirit as an inheritance in fulfillment of the promise to Abraham (Gal. 3:14; cf. Isa. 44:3–5), they have moved from bondage under the law to freedom in Christ (Gal. 5:1).
Inheritance is an important concept that the Bible uses in several ways.
Family. In the ancient world every culture had customs for the passing of wealth and possessions from one generation to the next. In ancient Israel special provisions were made for inheriting land upon the death of the father. The firstborn son received a double portion; the rest was divided equally among the remaining sons. If a man lacked sons, priority went to the following in order: daughters, brothers, father’s brothers, next of kin (Num. 27:1–11). The OT provides guidance for additional circumstances (Gen. 38:8–9; Num. 36:6; Lev. 25:23–24; Deut. 21:15–17; 25:5–10; Ruth 2:20; 3:9–13; 4:1–12), with an overriding concern for the stability of the family and the retention of the land within a tribe. Under Roman law during the NT period, an heir had legal standing even while the father was still alive; his status was based on birth or adoption rather than the father’s death.
Old Testament. Even more prominent than family inheritance is the assertion that God gave the land of Canaan to Abraham and his descendants as an inheritance (Gen. 12:7; 15:18–21; 17:8; Num. 34:1–29; Deut. 12:10). This inheritance is God’s gracious gift, not something that Israel earned by its righteousness (Deut. 9:4–7). Descriptions of the land (“flowing with milk and honey”) and its fertility portray this gift as a new Eden, where God will dwell with his people (Exod. 3:8, 17; Lev. 20:24; Num. 16:13–14; Deut. 11:9–12). In some texts the language of inheritance moves beyond the land of Canaan to an international scope. In Ps. 2:8 the anointed king recounts God saying to him, “Ask me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession.” This expansion of inheritance from the land of Canaan to the ends of the earth prepares the way for a similar expansion in the NT (see Rom. 4:13).
God’s relationship with Israel is also described in terms of inheritance. On the one hand, Israel is described as God’s inheritance (Deut. 32:9; 1 Sam. 10:1; 1 Kings 8:51–53); on the other hand, God is Israel’s inheritance (Pss. 16:5; 73:26; Jer. 10:16; 51:19). This mutuality expresses the intimacy of God’s relationship with Israel.
New Testament. Inheritance language is taken up in the NT and expanded in a variety of ways. First and foremost, Jesus Christ is the “heir of all things,” the Son to whom the Father has given all authority in heaven and on earth (Matt. 28:18–20; Heb. 1:2–5). Through their union with Christ, believers share in Christ’s inheritance (Rom. 8:17), having been qualified by the Father to share in that inheritance (Col. 1:12). What believers inherit is described in various ways: the earth (Matt. 5:5), eternal life (Luke 10:25), the kingdom (1 Cor. 6:9–10; James 2:5), salvation (Heb. 1:14), blessing (Heb. 12:17; 1 Pet. 3:9). This inheritance was enacted by the death of Christ and sealed by his blood (Heb. 9:15–28). Believers experience the benefits of this inheritance through the Spirit now (Eph. 1:14, 18), but its fullness is reserved in heaven and awaits the consummation (1 Pet. 1:4–6).
The connection between the believer’s inheritance and the Spirit is especially prominent in Paul. In Gal. 4:1–7 Paul uses a combination of exodus and legal imagery to explain the gospel. Before Christ came, God’s people were heirs under the care of guardians and trustees. But once Christ came and redeemed them from under the law, they received their full inheritance as adopted sons and daughters. Central to that inheritance is the gift of the Spirit, who cries out, “Abba, Father.” It is this gift of the Spirit that definitively marks believers as sons and daughters rather than slaves. Because believers possess the Spirit as an inheritance in fulfillment of the promise to Abraham (Gal. 3:14; cf. Isa. 44:3–5), they have moved from bondage under the law to freedom in Christ (Gal. 5:1).
Inheritance is an important concept that the Bible uses in several ways.
Family. In the ancient world every culture had customs for the passing of wealth and possessions from one generation to the next. In ancient Israel special provisions were made for inheriting land upon the death of the father. The firstborn son received a double portion; the rest was divided equally among the remaining sons. If a man lacked sons, priority went to the following in order: daughters, brothers, father’s brothers, next of kin (Num. 27:1–11). The OT provides guidance for additional circumstances (Gen. 38:8–9; Num. 36:6; Lev. 25:23–24; Deut. 21:15–17; 25:5–10; Ruth 2:20; 3:9–13; 4:1–12), with an overriding concern for the stability of the family and the retention of the land within a tribe. Under Roman law during the NT period, an heir had legal standing even while the father was still alive; his status was based on birth or adoption rather than the father’s death.
Old Testament. Even more prominent than family inheritance is the assertion that God gave the land of Canaan to Abraham and his descendants as an inheritance (Gen. 12:7; 15:18–21; 17:8; Num. 34:1–29; Deut. 12:10). This inheritance is God’s gracious gift, not something that Israel earned by its righteousness (Deut. 9:4–7). Descriptions of the land (“flowing with milk and honey”) and its fertility portray this gift as a new Eden, where God will dwell with his people (Exod. 3:8, 17; Lev. 20:24; Num. 16:13–14; Deut. 11:9–12). In some texts the language of inheritance moves beyond the land of Canaan to an international scope. In Ps. 2:8 the anointed king recounts God saying to him, “Ask me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession.” This expansion of inheritance from the land of Canaan to the ends of the earth prepares the way for a similar expansion in the NT (see Rom. 4:13).
God’s relationship with Israel is also described in terms of inheritance. On the one hand, Israel is described as God’s inheritance (Deut. 32:9; 1 Sam. 10:1; 1 Kings 8:51–53); on the other hand, God is Israel’s inheritance (Pss. 16:5; 73:26; Jer. 10:16; 51:19). This mutuality expresses the intimacy of God’s relationship with Israel.
New Testament. Inheritance language is taken up in the NT and expanded in a variety of ways. First and foremost, Jesus Christ is the “heir of all things,” the Son to whom the Father has given all authority in heaven and on earth (Matt. 28:18–20; Heb. 1:2–5). Through their union with Christ, believers share in Christ’s inheritance (Rom. 8:17), having been qualified by the Father to share in that inheritance (Col. 1:12). What believers inherit is described in various ways: the earth (Matt. 5:5), eternal life (Luke 10:25), the kingdom (1 Cor. 6:9–10; James 2:5), salvation (Heb. 1:14), blessing (Heb. 12:17; 1 Pet. 3:9). This inheritance was enacted by the death of Christ and sealed by his blood (Heb. 9:15–28). Believers experience the benefits of this inheritance through the Spirit now (Eph. 1:14, 18), but its fullness is reserved in heaven and awaits the consummation (1 Pet. 1:4–6).
The connection between the believer’s inheritance and the Spirit is especially prominent in Paul. In Gal. 4:1–7 Paul uses a combination of exodus and legal imagery to explain the gospel. Before Christ came, God’s people were heirs under the care of guardians and trustees. But once Christ came and redeemed them from under the law, they received their full inheritance as adopted sons and daughters. Central to that inheritance is the gift of the Spirit, who cries out, “Abba, Father.” It is this gift of the Spirit that definitively marks believers as sons and daughters rather than slaves. Because believers possess the Spirit as an inheritance in fulfillment of the promise to Abraham (Gal. 3:14; cf. Isa. 44:3–5), they have moved from bondage under the law to freedom in Christ (Gal. 5:1).
The kingdom of God is a major theme in the Bible. While the theme is most fully developed in the NT, its origin is the OT, where the emphasis falls on God’s king-ship. God is king of Israel (Exod. 15:18; Num. 23:21; Deut. 33:5; Isa. 43:15) and of all the earth (2 Kings 19:15; Pss. 29:10; 99:1–4; Isa. 6:5; Jer. 46:18). Juxtaposed to the concept of God’s present reign as king are references to a day when God will become king over his people (Isa. 24:23; 33:22; 52:7; Zeph. 3:15; Zech. 14:9). This emphasis on God’s kingship continues throughout Judaism and takes on special significance in Jewish apocalypticism and its anticipation of the kingdom of God in the age to come, which abandoned any hope for present history. Only at the end of the age will the kingdom of God come. This idea of God’s kingdom is further developed throughout the NT.
The Synoptic Gospels
In the Synoptic Gospels the phrase “the kingdom of God” occurs over one hundred times in Mark, Luke, and Matthew (where “kingdom of heaven” is a synonym for “kingdom of God”). Three views have been defended regarding whether and to what extent the kingdom of God was present in Jesus’ ministry. In other words, how are we to interpret the phrase “kingdom of God” in the Synoptics? The three views are consistent eschatology, realized eschatology, and inaugurated eschatology.
Consistent eschatology. Albert Schweitzer, a biblical scholar from the late nineteenth century, first popularized consistent eschatology. Here, “consistent” means consistent with the apocalyptic Judaism of Jesus’ day, which interpreted the kingdom of God as something coming in the future. Judaism at the time of Christ divided history into two periods: this age of sin, when sin rules, and the age to come, when the Messiah is expected to bring the kingdom of God to earth. Schweitzer concluded that an apocalyptic understanding of the kingdom was foundational not only for Christ’s teaching, but also to understanding his life. Thus, Schweitzer maintained that Jesus believed that it was his vocation to become the coming Son of Man. Initially, Jesus revealed this messianic secret only to Peter, James, and John. Later, Peter told it to the rest of the Twelve. Judas told the secret to the high priest, who used it as the grounds for Jesus’ execution (Mark 14:61–64; cf. Dan. 7:13).
According to Schweitzer, when Jesus sent out the Twelve on a mission to proclaim the coming kingdom of God, he did not expect them to return. The Twelve were the “men of violence” (cf. Matt. 11:12) who would provoke the messianic tribulation that would herald the kingdom. Whereas some earlier scholars believed that one could only wait passively for the kingdom, Schweitzer believed that the mission of Jesus was designed to provoke its coming. When this did not happen, Jesus determined to give his own life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45) and so cause the kingdom to come.
According to Schweitzer, Jesus took matters into his own hands by precipitating his death, hoping that this would be the catalyst for God to make the wheel of history turn to its climax—the arrival of the kingdom of God. But, said Schweitzer, Jesus was wrong again, and he died in despair. So for Schweitzer, Jesus never witnessed the dawning of the age to come; it lay in the distant future, separated from this present age.
On the positive side, Schweitzer called attention to the fact that the message of Jesus is rooted in first-century apocalyptic Judaism and its concept of the kingdom of God. This connection is still foundational to a proper understanding of biblical prophecy and the Gospels today. On the negative side, Schweitzer’s selective use of evidence and rejection of the historicity of much of the Gospel tradition resulted in a skewed perspective on the present dimensions of Jesus’ eschatology.
Realized eschatology. In contrast to futurist eschatology, where the kingdom of God awaits a final consummation at the end of history, realized eschatology views the kingdom of God as already realized in the person and mission of Jesus. The futurist aspects of Jesus’ teaching are reduced to a minimum, and his apocalyptic language is viewed as symbolic of theological truths.
The person most responsible for advocating this position is British scholar C. H. Dodd. In his 1935 book Parables of the Kingdom, he focused on Jesus’ teachings that announced the arrival of the kingdom with his coming. For instance, in Luke 11:20 Jesus says, “But if I drive out demons by the finger of God, then the kingdom of God has come upon you” (cf. Luke 17:21; Matt. 13). Eschatology becomes a matter of the present experience rather than any kind of future event. The kingdom has fully come in the messianic ministry of Jesus.
Most interpreters have criticized Dodd’s realized eschatology for ignoring Jesus’ teachings that point to a future consummation of the kingdom (e.g., Matt. 24–25; Mark 13). When all of Jesus’ teachings are considered, futurist eschatology balances realized eschatology. To be sure, the kingdom arrived with Jesus, but Jesus himself taught that history still awaits a final completion. The kingdom of God is both “already” and “not yet,” which leads us to the third view of the relationship of the kingdom of God to the ministry of Jesus Christ.
Inaugurated eschatology. The third view, inaugurated eschatology, is commonly connected with the twentieth-century Swiss theologian Oscar Cullmann. Like others before him, Cullmann understood that the Jewish notion of the two ages formed an important background for understanding the message of Jesus. According to Judaism, history is divided into two periods: this age of sin and the age to come (i.e., the kingdom of God). For Jews the advent of the Messiah would effect the shift from the former to the latter. In other words, Judaism viewed the two ages as consecutive. According to Cullmann, Jesus Christ announced that the end of time, the kingdom of God, had arrived within history (see Mark 1:15 pars.; esp. Luke 4:43; 6:20; 7:28; 8:1, 10; 9:2, 11, 27, 60, 62; 10:9, 11; 11:20; 13:18, 20; 16:16; 17:20–21; 18:16–17, 24–25, 29; Acts 28:31). Yet other passages suggest that although the age to come had already dawned, it was not yet complete. It awaited the second coming for its full realization (Luke 13:28–29; 14:15; 19:11; 21:31; 22:16, 18; 23:51; Acts 1:6). Hence the adjective “inaugurated” characterizes this eschatology. Such a view is pervasive in the NT (see, e.g., Acts 2:17–21; 3:18, 24; 1 Cor. 15:24; 1 Tim. 4:1; 2 Tim. 3:1; Heb. 1:2; 1 John 2:18). So for inaugurated eschatology, the two ages are simultaneous: the age to come exists in the midst of this present age. Christians therefore live in between the two ages until the parousia (second coming of Christ).
We may break down the data in the Synoptic Gospels regarding the “already/not yet” aspects concerning the kingdom of God in this manner: Mark, probably the first Gospel written, records Jesus’ programmatic statement in 1:15: “The time has come. . . . The kingdom of God has come near.” Mark, along with Luke and Matthew, then goes on to demonstrate that Jesus’ miracles, teachings, death, and resurrection inaugurated the kingdom of God. Yet it is also clear from Matthew, Mark, and Luke that the final manifestation of the kingdom has not yet happened. We may draw on Luke as representative of all three Synoptics. Luke’s Gospel indicates that the kingdom was present for Jesus (Luke 7:28; 8:10; 10:9–11; 11:20; 16:16; 17:20–21), but it also awaited the second coming for its completion (6:20–26; 11:2; 12:49–50, 51–53; 13:24–30; 21:25–29; 22:15–18, 30). The same dual aspect of the kingdom pertains to Luke’s second volume, Acts. The kingdom was present in Jesus’ ministry and now through his disciples (Acts 1:3; 8:12; 19:8; 20:25; 28:23–31), but it will not be completed until Christ comes again (1:6; 14:22).
The Gospel of John
John’s Gospel has only three references to the kingdom of God. Nicodemus was told by Jesus that he needed to be born again to enter the kingdom of God (3:3–5). Yet Jesus’ kingdom is not worldly in nature, but spiritual (18:36). Although the Gospel of John contains both the present (“already”) aspect and the future (“not yet”) aspect, the focus is clearly on the present. This is why many scholars label the Fourth Gospel the “Gospel of Realized Eschatology.” This emphasis on the “already” can be seen in John in the following ways: (1) Eternal life, or entrance into the kingdom of God, can be a present possession (3:5–6, 36; 6:47, 51, 58; 8:51; 10:28; 11:24–26). (2) The eschatological promise of sonship is granted to the believer in Jesus now (1:12–13; 3:3–8; 4:14). (3) The general resurrection has already begun (5:25). (4) The Spirit, the gift of the end time, currently indwells believers (7:37–39; 14:15–31; 15:26–27; 16:5–16; 20:22–23). (5) Final judgment is determined by one’s present response to Jesus (3:19; 5:22–24, 27, 30–38; 9:38; 12:31–33). (6) The spirit of antichrist has already entered the world scene to oppose Christ (6:70; 13:2, 27). (7) Jesus’ death on the cross seems to absorb some elements of the messianic woes or aspects of tribulation. In other words, Jesus’ passion was where the end-time holy war was waged, and his death and resurrection began the end of the forces of evil (15:18–16:11).
On the other hand, the Gospel of John also includes some typical future (“not yet”) aspects of eschatology. For example, the future resurrection is still expected (5:26–30). Likewise, the future second coming of Christ is alluded to (14:1–4; 21:22). Admittedly, however, the “already” aspect of the kingdom of God seems to overshadow the “not yet” perspective in the Fourth Gospel.
Pauline Literature
The phrase “kingdom of God” and/or “kingdom of Christ” occurs twelve times in Paul’s writings.
Rom. 14:17 – kingdom of God (present tense)
1 Cor. 4:20 – kingdom of God (present tense)
1 Cor. 6:9-10 – kingdom of God (2x) (future tense)
1 Cor. 15:24 – kingdom of Christ/God (present/future tense)
1 Cor. 15:50 – kingdom of God (future tense)
Gal. 5:21 – kingdom of God (future tense)
Eph. 5:5 – kingdom of Christ/God (future tense)
Col. 1:13 – kingdom of the Son (present tense)
Col. 4:11 – kingdom of God (present tense)
1 Thess. 2:12 – his [God’s] kingdom (future tense)
2 Thess. 1:5 – kingdom of God (future tense)
Three observations emerge from the chart: (1) The kingdom of Christ/God is both present and future, already here and not yet complete. This is consistent with the Gospels and Acts. (2) Christ and God are, in at least two instances, interchanged, suggesting equality of status between them (cf. Eph. 5:5; Rev. 11:15; 12:10). (3) In 1 Cor. 15:24 we find the most precise description of the exact relationship between the kingdoms of Christ and God: the interim messianic kingdom begun at the resurrection of Christ will one day give way to the eternal kingdom of God. Such a temporary kingdom is attested to in apocalyptic Judaism and may underlie Rev. 20:1–6.
Christians therefore live in between the two ages, in the messianic kingdom.
Hebrews and the General Epistles
Hebrews and the General Epistles continue the theme of the “already/not yet” aspects of the kingdom.
Hebrews. The following ideas associated in Second Temple Judaism with the arrival of God’s kingdom are seen by the author of Hebrews to have been fulfilled at the first coming of Christ: (1) the appearance of the Messiah of the last days indicates the dawning of the kingdom of God (1:2; 9:9–10); (2) the great tribulation/messianic woes that were expected to occur in connection with the advent of the Messiah are now here (2:5–18; cf. 5:8–9; 7:27–28; 10:12; 12:2); (3) the outpouring of the Holy Spirit has happened (6:4–5); (4) the manifestation of the eschatological high priest at the end of history has taken place in Jesus (7:26–28), who has also established the new covenant of the last days (8:6–13). Compare the preceding statements in Hebrews with that author’s explicit mention of the presence of the kingdom of God in 12:18–28. And yet the kingdom of God is not yet fully here. The church continues to suffer the messianic woes, as is evidenced in the intermingling of Jesus’ suffering of the great tribulation with the present afflictions of the Christian (2:5–18; 3:7–4:6; 5:7–6:12; 10:19–39; 12:1–2; 13:11–16). Furthermore, the exhortations to persevere in the faith that punctuate the book of Hebrews (2:1–4; 3:7–4:13; 5:11–6:12; 10:19–39; 12:14–29) are a familiar theme in Jewish and Christian apocalyptic literature.
The General Epistles. The main message of James is that the last days are here (1:2; 5:3) and with it the messianic woes (1:2–12; 5:1–12). Therefore, believers will need to faithfully endure the great tribulation until the second coming of Christ. But there are two indications that James also teaches that the kingdom of God has dawned in the midst of the great tribulation. First, Christians experience even now the eschatological quality of joy (James 1:2–3; cf. Joel 2:21–27). Second, Christians also share in the end-time gift of wisdom (James 1:5–8).
First Peter is similar to James with regard to its inaugurated eschatology. Thus, the church suffers the messianic woes/great tribulation (1 Pet. 1:6, 11; 3:13–17; 4:12–19; 5:1–9). Nevertheless, the age to come/kingdom of God has broken into the midst of this age, as evidenced by the eschatological joy and God’s protective power that it brings (1:5–6).
Second Peter does seem to stress the “not yet” aspect of the kingdom of God. Thus, the kingdom of God still waits to be entered (1:11), is hindered by end-time apostasy (2 Pet. 2), and has been postponed (3:1–10). Yet the “already” aspect of the kingdom is not entirely absent. This is evidenced by the fact that the transfiguration of Christ on the mountain was a display of the coming power and glory of the age to come, a glory revealed to the disciples on the mountain and now communicated to all believers (1:16–19).
Jude is devoted to alerting Christians to the reality that they are in the midst of the end-time holy war (vv. 3, 20–23), as can be seen by their struggle with the false teaching of end-time apostasy (vv. 5–19). Nevertheless, because believers possess the eschatological gift of the Holy Spirit, they will prevail to fully enter the kingdom of God (v. 20).
The Letters of John attest to the overlapping of the two ages—that is, inaugurated eschatology. Thus, on the one hand, the spirit of antichrist is here (1 John 2:18; 2 John 7), along with the false teaching that it breeds (1 John 2:20–29; cf. 2–3 John); but on the other hand, the Johannine community has the end-time anointing of the Holy Spirit, which preserves believers from evil and deception (1 John 2:20–21; 3:1–10). Moreover, Christians presently have eternal life through Christ, one of the blessings of the kingdom of God (1 John 5:11–13).
Revelation
The “already/not yet” aspects of the kingdom of God are manifested in Revelation in the following way: the kingdom of God has already dawned in heaven, but it has not yet appeared on earth. Regarding the former, it is clear from 1:9; 5:1–14; 12:1–6 that Jesus’ death and resurrection inaugurated the advent of the kingdom of God in heaven. Thus, Jesus obediently underwent the messianic woes on the cross and was then raised to heavenly glory, triumphant over the great tribulation. There in heaven, Christ reigns as the invisible Lord over all (including Caesar). But that the kingdom of God has not yet descended to earth is clear in Revelation from two present realities. First, even though Jesus has endured the great tribulation/messianic woes, his followers continue to face many trials (chaps. 6–18). There is no deliverance for them from such affliction until the return of Christ in glory (chap. 19). The only possible exception to this is the divine protection of the 144,000 (chaps. 7; 14). Second, the kingdom of God has not appeared on earth; that event awaits the parousia (chap. 20 [assuming that the premillennial interpretation of that chapter is the most viable reading]). In all of this, it seems that the messianic woes/great tribulation are the divine means for purging the earth in preparation for the future arrival of the temporal, messianic kingdom (chap. 20). After Christ’s one-thousand-year reign on earth, this temporal messianic kingdom will give way to the eternal kingdom of God and its new earth and new heaven (chaps. 21–22). It must be acknowledged, however, that interpretations of chapters 20–22 greatly vary, depending on whether one takes a premillennial, amillennial, or postmillennial perspective.
Conclusion
The preceding data thus seem to confirm that the most apt description of the relationship between the two ages and the kingdom of God that informs the NT is inaugurated eschatology: with the first coming of Christ, the kingdom of God/the age to come dawned, but it will not be until the second coming of Christ that the age to come/kingdom of God will be complete. The church therefore lives in between the times. That is to say, the age to come has broken into this present age, and it is only through the eye of faith that one can now perceive the presence of the kingdom of God.
An outer garment (usually “cloak,” “garment,” or “robe” in the NIV). A mantle was among the items that Achan stole from the plunder at Jericho (Josh. 7:21). The biblical authors sometimes used “mantle” figuratively in poetic literature (Ps. 89:45 NIV; Isa. 59:17; 61:3; Heb. 1:12 NASB). Elijah’s mantle is the most prominent in the Bible. Elijah cast his mantle over Elisha to signify that Elisha would be his successor (1 Kings 19:16, 19). Later, both Elijah and Elisha used Elijah’s mantle to part the Jordan River (2 Kings 2:8, 13–14). See also 1 Kings 19:13.
The study of human beings, their nature and origins. The Christian understanding of anthropology stems from a biblical view of humankind’s relationship to God.
The Origin of Humankind
According to Genesis, the creation of humankind took place on the sixth day of the creation week. The amount of narrative space allotted to this day (Gen. 1:24–31) testifies to the special importance of what happened. Human beings were made on the same day as the animals. Human beings were not given a day of their own, showing that they have a certain kinship with the animals, although they are far more than highly successful and adaptive mammals. This has implications for the care of animals and of the environment generally. The value of human beings and their special place in the created order is clear in passages such as Pss. 8:5–6; 104:14–15.
Created in the image of God. When it came to the making of human beings, God deliberated over this crucial step (Gen. 1:26). The plural of exhortation in “Let us make man in our image” signals that the decision to make humankind was the most important one that God had made so far. Genesis 1 says that human beings are like God in some way.
Various opinions have been canvassed as to what the “image” is. We cannot totally exclude the physical form of humans, given God’s humanoid form in OT appearances (theophanies; e.g., Isa. 6:1; Ezek. 1:26; Amos 9:1). The image has sometimes been interpreted as a task, the exercising of dominion (Gen. 1:28), with humanity appointed as creation’s king, ruling under God. But the image is better understood as the precondition for rule rather than rule itself. The image shows human worth (Gen. 9:6) and differentiates humans from all other creatures. It is proper for the Bible to use anthropomorphic language for God, for humans are remarkably like God. Both male and female are in the image of God (“in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” [1:27]), so that the divine image is not maleness, nor is sexual differentiation the image. Commonly, the image of God is thought to be some peculiar quality of human beings—for example, rationality, speech, moral sense, personality, humans as relational beings.
Every century has its own view of what is the essence of humanity. However, nothing in the passage allows a choice among such alternatives. The point of the passage is simply the fact of the likeness, with no exact definition being provided. The fact of the image is the basis of the divine prohibition of murder and of the strict penalty applied to the transgressor (9:4–6). The fall into sin affected every aspect of the human constitution, and the Bible does not minimize the fact of human sinfulness (Gen. 6:5; 8:21; Rom. 3:10–18); nevertheless, humans are still in the image of God (Gen. 5:1–3; 9:6; 1 Cor. 11:7). God’s plan of salvation is aimed at ridding creation (and especially humanity) of the baneful effects of sin, and this will be achieved through the work of Christ, who is the image of God (2 Cor. 4:4; Col. 1:15–20; Heb. 1:1–3; 2:5–18). The outcome will be the conformity of believers in Christ to his glorious image (Rom. 8:29–30; 2 Cor. 3.18).
Place in the created order. God’s purpose in giving human beings the divine image is “so they may rule” (NET [Gen. 1:26b translated as a purpose clause]). The syntax suggests that the image is a presupposition of dominion. It is plain that such a delegated authority makes humans stewards. The vegetarian diet of Gen.1:29 (there was no eating of meat at first) represents a limitation to the human right of dominion. Adam’s naming of the animals was (in part) expressive of his sovereignty over them (2:19). Later, Noah was charged to bring pairs of animals into the ark to preserve them alive (6:19–20), showing care for other creatures. The patriarchs tended flocks (13:2–9; 26:12–14), and Joseph’s relief measures saved the lives of people and animals (47:15–18). The wanton destruction of the Promised Land was expressly forbidden (Deut. 20:19–20). Humanity is accountable to God for the stewardship of the earth. The divine command “be fruitful and multiply” (Gen. 1:28 NRSV) shows that God’s purpose is that the human race populate the whole earth.
At Gen. 2:7 the biblical narrative becomes thoroughly anthropocentric, picturing the little world that God establishes around the first man, so this account is quite different from the cosmic presentation of Gen. 1. In Gen. 1 humankind is the apex of a pyramid, the last and highest of a series of creatures; in Gen. 2 the man is the center of a circle, everything else made to fit around him, and his connection to the physical earth is emphasized. In either view, a very special place is given to human beings in the created order. The two pictures are complementary, not contradictory.
The “man” (’adam) is formed from the “ground” (’adamah), with the related Hebrew words making a pun. Man’s name reminds him of his earthy origins. He is made from the “dust,” which hints at his coming death. He will return to the dust (Gen. 3:19; cf. Job 10:8–9; Ps. 103:14; Isa. 29:16). The reference to “the breath of life” (Gen. 2:7) is due to the fact that this leaves a person at death (Job 34:14–15; Ps. 104:29–30), so man’s (potential) mortality is implied. Ironically, the making of man is described using the language of death. What is described in Gen. 2 is the making of the first man, from whom the rest of the human race has descended, not the making of humankind, though the word ’adam can mean that in other contexts.
The Nature of Humankind
Body, soul, and spirit. Arguments over whether human nature is bipartite (body and soul) or tripartite (body, soul, spirit) are not to be decided by arbitrary appeal to isolated verses. Verses can be found in apparent support for both the first view (e.g., Matt. 10:28) and the second (e.g., 1 Thess. 5:23), but certainly the first scheme is much more prevalent in the Bible. “Soul” and “spirit” can be used interchangeably (Eccles. 3:21; 12:7; Ezek. 18:31). Death is marked by the parting of soul/spirit and body, but it would be a mistake to think that human beings are made up of separate component parts, or that the physical body is only a dispensable shell and not essential to true humanity. The physicality of human existence in the “body” is owned and celebrated in Scripture, part of that being the positive attitude to sexuality when properly expressed (Song of Songs; 1 Cor. 7) and the nonascetic nature of biblical ethics (1 Cor. 10:31; Col. 2:23). The doctrine of the resurrection of the body is the fullest expression of this (1 Cor. 15), in contrast to ancient Greek thought that viewed the body as inherently evil and understood salvation as the immortality of the liberated, disembodied soul.
The different words used in relation to persons are only intended to refer to and at times focus on different aspects of unified human nature. References to the “soul” may stress individual responsibility (e.g., Ezek. 18:4 NASB: “The soul who sins will die”). In Ps. 103:1–2, “O my soul” expresses emphatic self-encouragement to praise God and is in parallel with “all my inmost being”—that is, “my whole being” (an example of synecdoche: a part standing for the whole [cf. Ps. 35:10]). These are ways of referring to oneself as a person who expresses will and intention (cf. Ps. 42:5–6, 11). The “flesh” is used to stress the weakness of mortal humanity (e.g., Isa. 40:6 RSV: “All flesh is grass”). The “heart” is the volitional center of a human being (Prov. 4:23; cf. Mark 7:17–23). The emotional and empathetic reactions of humans are described by reference to the organs: “liver,” “kidneys,” “bowels.”
Morals and responsibility. In Gen. 2 the complexities of the man’s moral relation to God and his relations with the soil, with the animals, and with the woman are explored. God deposited the man in the garden “to work it and take care of it” (2:15). The words chosen to designate the man’s work prior to the fall have an aura of worship about them, for they are later used in the OT for the cultic actions of serving and guarding within the sanctuary. The priests served by offering sacrifices, and the Levites guarded the gates of the sacred precinct. A theology of work as a religious vocation is presented. The man was a kind of king-priest in the garden of God.
The moral responsibility of humanity is signaled from the beginning. God’s command gives permission for the man to eat from “any tree” except one (Gen. 2:16–17) and as such indicates man’s freedom, so that this command is no great restriction. The wording “you are free to eat” reinforces the point about God’s generous provision. The prohibition is embedded in the description of God’s fatherly care for the man and gracious act in placing him in the garden. The divine restriction is slight and not at all overbearing, though the serpent will seek to make it appear mean-spirited (3:1). The command and prohibition are the very first words of God to the man, marking them out as of fundamental importance for the relationship between them. The prohibition (“you must not eat . . .”) is an absolute one in the style of the Decalogue (Exod. 20:1–17; Deut. 5:6–21). What is placed before the man is a test that gives him the opportunity to express his loyalty to God. A relationship of obedience and trust requires the possibility of choice and the opportunity to disobey (if that is what he wants to do). The moral nature and responsibility of individuals is not a late discovery by the prophet Ezekiel (Ezek. 18); rather, it is the presupposition behind the Mosaic law, for the commands of the Decalogue (“you shall not . . .”) are phrased as commands to individuals (as the Hebrew makes clear). On the other hand, the concept of corporate responsibility is also present (e.g., Achan’s punishment in Josh. 7).
Relationships. Human beings are relational by nature, as the creation of the woman as a helper and partner for the first man makes plain (Gen. 2:18–25). Later in Scripture this is put in more general terms, so that friendship and mutual cooperation are shown to be essential to life (Eccles. 4:7–12). The body life of the church reflects the same fact and need (1 Cor. 12). In Psalms, human needs and vulnerability find their answer and fulfillment in God, with the psalmist acknowledging his frailty and his creaturely dependence on God (e.g., Ps. 90). This also shows the folly of sinful human pride, against which the prophets so often inveighed (e.g., Isa. 2:9, 11–17, 22).
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).
God is the all-powerful, all-knowing, morally perfect creator of the universe; and we are his creatures—no less, but also no more. Thus, an unimaginable distance must exist between God and us; and this fact has led some theologians to despair of knowing anything about him for sure, not even that he actually has these attributes of deity. It might seem, furthermore, that some biblical texts encourage such a view. Psalm 92:5 recognizes the distance: “How great are your works, O Lord, how profound your thoughts!” Psalm 145:3 says that “no one can fathom” God’s greatness. According to Ps. 147:5, “Great is our Lord and mighty in power; his understanding has no limit.” In Ps. 139:6, David tries to comprehend God’s perfect insight and concludes, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.” The doxology of Rom. 11:33–36 exults in the uniqueness of God: “Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable his judgments, and his paths beyond tracing out!” In Isa. 55:9, God says, “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.” Based on these passages and others, and knowing what the difference between creator and creature must generally imply, one might suspect that we can know nothing of substance about God.
In fact, however, the biblical writers tell a different story, being cautiously optimistic about theology’s prospects. On the one hand, they note our creaturely limitations and God’s transcendence, as seen above. We cannot fully comprehend our Creator. We never will, not even through the eons of eternity. God will always have something more to show us about himself, more that we can learn and adore. In that sense, the biblical writers are cautious about what theology can grasp. On the other hand, we must be able to learn some things about God; otherwise, the Scriptures themselves would not exist, since they tell us about God and much else besides. Divine omnipotence, therefore, includes the ability to produce in us adequate theological understanding. We always lean on God, and no one understands him at all apart from his initiative. He remains sovereign over this event, as with any other. But God has made himself known in two general ways, according to Scripture.
General and Special Revelation
First, the biblical writers expect each of us to grasp something of God’s nature, based on what is called “general revelation.” General revelation operates in a broadcasted way, so to speak, relying upon commonplace experience and the latter’s God-given ability to make us aware of his existence and nature. We all see the heavens that “declare the glory of God” (Ps. 19:1). Paul argues that every person can detect the “invisible qualities” of God, his “eternal power and divine nature,” in what he has created, so that we have no excuse for decadent theology and behavior (Rom. 1:20). The law of God is “written on [our] hearts” (Rom. 2:15), so that we grasp what we owe to him and each other. Even though God has not spoken directly to every nation, “he has not left himself without testimony”; he has shown all people “kindness by giving [them] rain from heaven and crops in their seasons” (Acts 14:17). We can learn some things about God from these sources given to us, and thus we are accountable for right conduct in relationship to them. However, general revelation lacks the detail and assurance of what is called “special revelation.”
Special revelation differs from general revelation in having a target audience. It conveys information about God, human beings, and our world that cannot be deduced from everyday, highly accessible experience. Jesus suffered for our sins. Our trust in his death on the cross will save us. God is a Trinity of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, though there is one God. Christ will return in power and glory to judge all nations. We can think of God as our heavenly Father, a morally perfect deity who cares about the individual person. The Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness as we wonder how to pray. God is always sovereign, even over the wicked deeds of human beings and the suffering that they cause. These are essential points of Christian doctrine. Yet we cannot substantiate any of them by carefully observing ourselves, our world, or the facts of history. Indeed, sometimes our own thoughts lead us to resist these claims because they entail great mysteries. One can easily (but wrongly) equate “I do not understand this” with “This is false.” Thus, our knowledge of these doctrines rests upon God’s willingness to speak and our readiness to hear what he says with humility and trust, without having all our questions answered. The vehicle for this latter kind of knowledge is called “special revelation.”
All revelation is “special,” simply because we can learn nothing about God apart from his self-disclosure. However, theologians use the technical term “special revelation” to capture the idea that God has revealed some matters of doctrine only to specific people, with the expectation that they will preach these truths to others as he requires them to do. These doctrinal matters include the claims given above concerning some aspects of God’s nature, his attitude toward human beings, the plan of salvation, and so forth. Thus, the Bible is special revelation par excellence; likewise, the preaching of prophets, Jesus, and then his chosen apostles (to list them in chronological order) is special revelation. Of course, since we do not have access to prophetic teaching and the life and words of Christ apart from Scripture, the latter is our sole source of special revelation. We cannot now see and hear Jesus as his first-century observers did, but we encounter him as the incarnate Word through the inerrant written word of Scripture. Theology, therefore, concerns what the Bible says about God, humanity, Christ, and so forth, and it looks to general revelation, if at all, merely to corroborate or illustrate what Scripture substantiates. Likewise, the promises of God to bless the preaching of his truth attach to special revelation rather than to what one might glean from other sources (Isa. 55:11).
The Bible as Special Revelation
The Bible stands alone in revealing who God is and showing what pleases him. Its exact contents were ordained by God through inspiration. Scripture is “God-breathed” (2 Tim. 3:16), having been produced when people “spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit” (2 Pet. 1:21). Consequently, even though prophecy occurs in NT churches (1 Cor. 14), it is not received there as the unchallengeable teaching of OT prophets, Jesus, or his apostles. Rather, observers are to weigh carefully what prophets say (1 Cor. 14:29). John expressly warns of false prophecy in the churches: “Dear friends, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world” (1 John 4:1). These facts should lead one to be cautious in using such phrases as “God told me that . . . ” and in urging other Christians to act upon anyone’s private sensations of being led by the Spirit, absent any objective reasons for doing so. Prophecy given by the Holy Spirit today should involve the application of biblical truth to present challenges and opportunities. The same principle applies to subjective promptings from the Holy Spirit. They should apply received doctrine without revising it and must always be tested by the church.
The sixty-six books of the Bible were written by real people, living in concrete historical settings, and using ordinary language. Yet they intend to speak of heavenly things and of a holy God. Consequently, theologians face the challenge of “seeing through” the Bible’s figurative statements and artistic forms to the truths they convey, but without landing in unhelpful abstractions. Most people who read the book of Exodus assume that God does not have an actual “arm” to outstretch (6:6) or a “face” that one may not see and live (33:23). But Moses chose these words to reveal something about God, and thus we have to ask how far the analogy goes and to what degree it reaches down to our human level of understanding. We know that God must somehow “talk down” to us, using our own language, even as he gives us historical and theological claims having real content. Balancing these two realities—the “otherness” of God and the earthiness of the written, human word that reveals him—is the delicate task of exegesis.
The interpreter must also negotiate the various kinds or genres of literature found in the Bible, especially the ones that seem most alien to our own ways of communicating. Our own documents do not (usually) feature the elaborate images of the book of Revelation or the structures of Hebrew poetry found in the Psalter, and we do not live in the first-century world. Therefore, to read the Scriptures correctly, we must become culturally literate, so that we see our texts through ancient Near Eastern and Greco-Roman eyes. These fields are studied with care, based on the assumption that the Bible’s forms of literature were customary for their own time. They were not entirely strange to their original audiences. Thus, they can become less strange to us; and since the Bible is fully human as well as fully divine, reading its pages through the appropriate cultural lenses will give us access to what the Spirit says to the churches.
Human Limitations
An analysis of general and special revelation should consider the so-called noetic effects of sin—that is, the effects that sin has upon our ability to reason and to learn. Human beings were created in the image of God (Gen. 1:26–27), having the capacity to interact with their Creator. They bear some “family resemblance” to God, notwithstanding their materiality and finitude. But when Adam and Eve sinned, they corrupted themselves and their descendants, so much so that Paul can describe them as being enslaved to sin and death (Rom. 5–6). Since the fall, the biblical writers have proclaimed the blindness of human beings to the things of God. All people are “under the power of sin,” and “there is no one who understands” (Rom. 3:9–11). In Eph. 2:1–3 Paul describes unrepentant sinners as being “dead in [their] transgressions and sins,” so that they follow carnal “desires and thoughts.” Even someone as naturally qualified as Nicodemus fails to see who Jesus is apart from the sovereign power of the Holy Spirit (John 3:1–15). Fallen human beings do not see what they ought to see and grasp what they ought to grasp. They can even say in their hearts, “There is no God” (Ps. 14:1).
Human beings do not have 20/20 intellectual vision, and our desires are corrupted. Consequently, we do not benefit from God’s self-revelation as Adam did, not to mention the glorified Christian who knows fully (1 Cor. 13:12). In some cases, the sinner does not want to acknowledge the disclosures of God and thus does not perceive them. Habitual sin and doc-trin-al innovation can “sear” the conscience as with an iron, making “hypocritical liars” impervious to sound teaching (1 Tim. 4:2). Although the heavens declare the glory of God, and although “in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son” (Heb. 1:2), fallen human beings will not grasp these truths. Yet they remain accountable to God because the disabling wounds of sin are self-inflicted. Even the demons of Scripture, who identify Jesus accurately, recoil from what they clearly perceive (Matt. 8:29; Mark 3:11; 5:7), as do the Pharisees who attribute the Spirit’s work to Beelzebul (Matt. 12:22–32). In these cases, the difficulty is not cognitive but affective. Character becomes intellectual destiny.
The world abounds with religious viewpoints, each one claiming to reveal how it works and what constitutes the good life. It is also unlikely that each of them contains only false statements and no true ones. On the contrary, the major rivals to Christianity gain some converts, we may assume, by including fractions of truth and addressing some perceived human needs. Islam is not wrong in its rejection of polytheism and idolatry. Buddhism is right in its belief that suffering raises key philosophical questions. However, we should avoid saying that God has actually revealed something of his nature through these sources, as if their existence were a subset of general revelation. Paul may note the Athenians’ religiosity and illustrate a point by quoting one of their poets (Acts 17:22, 28), but his overall polemic makes it clear that he views their ideas as mistaken responses to general revelation. Similar remarks would apply to cults that mix some orthodoxy, based on Scripture, with enough error to pervert the whole. God is not speaking indistinctly through them; rather, they are mishandling what he has said through the biblical writers. In this sense, therefore, the Bible stands alone as the unique word of God.
The Bible has much to say about works, and an understanding of the topic is important because works play a role in most religions. In the most generic sense, “works” refers to the products or activities of human moral agents in the context of religious discussion. God’s works are frequently mentioned in Scripture, and they are always good. His works include creation (Gen. 2:2–3; Isa. 40:28; 42:5), sustenance of the earth (Ps. 104; Heb. 1:3), and redemption (Exod. 6:6; Ps. 111:9; Rom. 8:23). Human works, therefore, should be in alignment with God’s works, though obviously of a different sort. Works in the Bible usually reflect a moral polarity: good or evil, righteous or unrighteous, just or unjust. The context of the passage often determines the moral character of the works (e.g., Isa. 3:10–11; 2 Cor. 11:15).
Important questions follow from the existence of works and their moral quality. Do good works merit God’s favor or please him? Can good works save at the time of God’s judgment? When people asked Jesus, “What must we do to do the works God requires?” he answered, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent” (John 6:28–29). Without faith it is impossible to please God (Heb. 11:6). The people from the OT commended in Heb. 11 did their works in the precondition of faith. Explicitly in the NT and often implicitly in the OT, faith is the condition for truly good works. God elects out of his mercy, not out of human works (Rom. 9:12, 16; Titus 3:5; cf. Rom. 11:2). Works not done in faith, even if considered “good” by human standards, are not commendable to God, since all humankind is under sin (Rom. 3:9) and no person is righteous or does good (Rom. 3:10–18; cf. Isa. 64:6). Works cannot save; salvation is a gift to be received by faith (Eph. 2:8–9; 2 Tim. 1:9; cf. Rom. 4:2–6). Even works of the Mosaic law are not salvific (Rom. 3:20, 27–28; Gal. 2:16; 3:2; 5:4). Good works follow from faith (2 Cor. 9:8; Eph. 2:10; 1 Thess. 1:3; James 2:18, 22; cf. Acts 26:20). The works of those who have faith will be judged, but this judgment appears to be related to rewards, not salvation (Matt. 16:27; Rom. 2:6; 2 Cor. 5:10; cf. Rom. 14:10; 1 Cor. 3:13–15).
Secondary Matches
The study of human beings, their nature and origins. The Christian understanding of anthropology stems from a biblical view of humankind’s relationship to God.
The Origin of Humankind
According to Genesis, the creation of humankind took place on the sixth day of the creation week. The amount of narrative space allotted to this day (Gen. 1:24–31) testifies to the special importance of what happened. Human beings were made on the same day as the animals. Human beings were not given a day of their own, showing that they have a certain kinship with the animals, although they are far more than highly successful and adaptive mammals. This has implications for the care of animals and of the environment generally. The value of human beings and their special place in the created order is clear in passages such as Pss. 8:5–6; 104:14–15.
Created in the image of God. When it came to the making of human beings, God deliberated over this crucial step (Gen. 1:26). The plural of exhortation in “Let us make man in our image” signals that the decision to make humankind was the most important one that God had made so far. Genesis 1 says that human beings are like God in some way.
Various opinions have been canvassed as to what the “image” is. We cannot totally exclude the physical form of humans, given God’s humanoid form in OT appearances (theophanies; e.g., Isa. 6:1; Ezek. 1:26; Amos 9:1). The image has sometimes been interpreted as a task, the exercising of dominion (Gen. 1:28), with humanity appointed as creation’s king, ruling under God. But the image is better understood as the precondition for rule rather than rule itself. The image shows human worth (Gen. 9:6) and differentiates humans from all other creatures. It is proper for the Bible to use anthropomorphic language for God, for humans are remarkably like God. Both male and female are in the image of God (“in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” [1:27]), so that the divine image is not maleness, nor is sexual differentiation the image. Commonly, the image of God is thought to be some peculiar quality of human beings—for example, rationality, speech, moral sense, personality, humans as relational beings.
Every century has its own view of what is the essence of humanity. However, nothing in the passage allows a choice among such alternatives. The point of the passage is simply the fact of the likeness, with no exact definition being provided. The fact of the image is the basis of the divine prohibition of murder and of the strict penalty applied to the transgressor (9:4–6). The fall into sin affected every aspect of the human constitution, and the Bible does not minimize the fact of human sinfulness (Gen. 6:5; 8:21; Rom. 3:10–18); nevertheless, humans are still in the image of God (Gen. 5:1–3; 9:6; 1 Cor. 11:7). God’s plan of salvation is aimed at ridding creation (and especially humanity) of the baneful effects of sin, and this will be achieved through the work of Christ, who is the image of God (2 Cor. 4:4; Col. 1:15–20; Heb. 1:1–3; 2:5–18). The outcome will be the conformity of believers in Christ to his glorious image (Rom. 8:29–30; 2 Cor. 3.18).
Place in the created order. God’s purpose in giving human beings the divine image is “so they may rule” (NET [Gen. 1:26b translated as a purpose clause]). The syntax suggests that the image is a presupposition of dominion. It is plain that such a delegated authority makes humans stewards. The vegetarian diet of Gen.1:29 (there was no eating of meat at first) represents a limitation to the human right of dominion. Adam’s naming of the animals was (in part) expressive of his sovereignty over them (2:19). Later, Noah was charged to bring pairs of animals into the ark to preserve them alive (6:19–20), showing care for other creatures. The patriarchs tended flocks (13:2–9; 26:12–14), and Joseph’s relief measures saved the lives of people and animals (47:15–18). The wanton destruction of the Promised Land was expressly forbidden (Deut. 20:19–20). Humanity is accountable to God for the stewardship of the earth. The divine command “be fruitful and multiply” (Gen. 1:28 NRSV) shows that God’s purpose is that the human race populate the whole earth.
At Gen. 2:7 the biblical narrative becomes thoroughly anthropocentric, picturing the little world that God establishes around the first man, so this account is quite different from the cosmic presentation of Gen. 1. In Gen. 1 humankind is the apex of a pyramid, the last and highest of a series of creatures; in Gen. 2 the man is the center of a circle, everything else made to fit around him, and his connection to the physical earth is emphasized. In either view, a very special place is given to human beings in the created order. The two pictures are complementary, not contradictory.
The “man” (’adam) is formed from the “ground” (’adamah), with the related Hebrew words making a pun. Man’s name reminds him of his earthy origins. He is made from the “dust,” which hints at his coming death. He will return to the dust (Gen. 3:19; cf. Job 10:8–9; Ps. 103:14; Isa. 29:16). The reference to “the breath of life” (Gen. 2:7) is due to the fact that this leaves a person at death (Job 34:14–15; Ps. 104:29–30), so man’s (potential) mortality is implied. Ironically, the making of man is described using the language of death. What is described in Gen. 2 is the making of the first man, from whom the rest of the human race has descended, not the making of humankind, though the word ’adam can mean that in other contexts.
The Nature of Humankind
Body, soul, and spirit. Arguments over whether human nature is bipartite (body and soul) or tripartite (body, soul, spirit) are not to be decided by arbitrary appeal to isolated verses. Verses can be found in apparent support for both the first view (e.g., Matt. 10:28) and the second (e.g., 1 Thess. 5:23), but certainly the first scheme is much more prevalent in the Bible. “Soul” and “spirit” can be used interchangeably (Eccles. 3:21; 12:7; Ezek. 18:31). Death is marked by the parting of soul/spirit and body, but it would be a mistake to think that human beings are made up of separate component parts, or that the physical body is only a dispensable shell and not essential to true humanity. The physicality of human existence in the “body” is owned and celebrated in Scripture, part of that being the positive attitude to sexuality when properly expressed (Song of Songs; 1 Cor. 7) and the nonascetic nature of biblical ethics (1 Cor. 10:31; Col. 2:23). The doctrine of the resurrection of the body is the fullest expression of this (1 Cor. 15), in contrast to ancient Greek thought that viewed the body as inherently evil and understood salvation as the immortality of the liberated, disembodied soul.
The different words used in relation to persons are only intended to refer to and at times focus on different aspects of unified human nature. References to the “soul” may stress individual responsibility (e.g., Ezek. 18:4 NASB: “The soul who sins will die”). In Ps. 103:1–2, “O my soul” expresses emphatic self-encouragement to praise God and is in parallel with “all my inmost being”—that is, “my whole being” (an example of synecdoche: a part standing for the whole [cf. Ps. 35:10]). These are ways of referring to oneself as a person who expresses will and intention (cf. Ps. 42:5–6, 11). The “flesh” is used to stress the weakness of mortal humanity (e.g., Isa. 40:6 RSV: “All flesh is grass”). The “heart” is the volitional center of a human being (Prov. 4:23; cf. Mark 7:17–23). The emotional and empathetic reactions of humans are described by reference to the organs: “liver,” “kidneys,” “bowels.”
Morals and responsibility. In Gen. 2 the complexities of the man’s moral relation to God and his relations with the soil, with the animals, and with the woman are explored. God deposited the man in the garden “to work it and take care of it” (2:15). The words chosen to designate the man’s work prior to the fall have an aura of worship about them, for they are later used in the OT for the cultic actions of serving and guarding within the sanctuary. The priests served by offering sacrifices, and the Levites guarded the gates of the sacred precinct. A theology of work as a religious vocation is presented. The man was a kind of king-priest in the garden of God.
The moral responsibility of humanity is signaled from the beginning. God’s command gives permission for the man to eat from “any tree” except one (Gen. 2:16–17) and as such indicates man’s freedom, so that this command is no great restriction. The wording “you are free to eat” reinforces the point about God’s generous provision. The prohibition is embedded in the description of God’s fatherly care for the man and gracious act in placing him in the garden. The divine restriction is slight and not at all overbearing, though the serpent will seek to make it appear mean-spirited (3:1). The command and prohibition are the very first words of God to the man, marking them out as of fundamental importance for the relationship between them. The prohibition (“you must not eat . . .”) is an absolute one in the style of the Decalogue (Exod. 20:1–17; Deut. 5:6–21). What is placed before the man is a test that gives him the opportunity to express his loyalty to God. A relationship of obedience and trust requires the possibility of choice and the opportunity to disobey (if that is what he wants to do). The moral nature and responsibility of individuals is not a late discovery by the prophet Ezekiel (Ezek. 18); rather, it is the presupposition behind the Mosaic law, for the commands of the Decalogue (“you shall not . . .”) are phrased as commands to individuals (as the Hebrew makes clear). On the other hand, the concept of corporate responsibility is also present (e.g., Achan’s punishment in Josh. 7).
Relationships. Human beings are relational by nature, as the creation of the woman as a helper and partner for the first man makes plain (Gen. 2:18–25). Later in Scripture this is put in more general terms, so that friendship and mutual cooperation are shown to be essential to life (Eccles. 4:7–12). The body life of the church reflects the same fact and need (1 Cor. 12). In Psalms, human needs and vulnerability find their answer and fulfillment in God, with the psalmist acknowledging his frailty and his creaturely dependence on God (e.g., Ps. 90). This also shows the folly of sinful human pride, against which the prophets so often inveighed (e.g., Isa. 2:9, 11–17, 22).
The word “apocalypse” means “revelation.” It is used in Rev. 1:1 to identify what follows as information that would otherwise be known only in heaven. “Apocalyptic” therefore refers to uncovering something that is hidden—revealing secrets. It focuses on the gracious acts of God whereby he informs his servants of his plans and purposes about what is happening and will happen on earth. Scholars have identified those texts that resemble the form of the book of Revelation as “apocalyptic literature,” including the visions of Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, and Zechariah.
Apocalyptic texts also appear outside of the Bible, although many of them are inspired by biblical accounts. The record of Enoch’s journey into the heavens (Gen. 5:24) stimulated the imagination of many during the Second Temple period, resulting in the production of a large number of apocalyptic works purporting to record what Enoch learned while in the heavens. These then formed the basis for a distinctive, and ultimately misguided, interpretation of contemporary Jewish experience (see, e.g., 1 Enoch, Jubilees). The popularity of apocalyptic literature grew significantly after the appearance of John’s Revelation, particularly in later gnostic literature and the works of various forms of Jewish mysticism.
The genre of apocalyptic literature. For there to be apocalyptic literature, some things must be accepted as true: God exists and is in sovereign control over what happens on earth; God has a plan, and humankind cannot know anything of that plan unless it be revealed. This literature claims to be the result of a gracious act of God. It may be delivered through a vision of God himself. Alternately, it might involve seeing things in the heavens either as a vision or as a guided tour.
God’s revelation occurred in many ways on many occasions (Heb. 1:1–2). The entire Bible is, in this sense, an apocalypse—a revelation. Some forms of this revelation, however, are easier to understand than others.
As a literary form, apocalyptic literature might best be described as verbal cartoons. The images that are so graphically portrayed would have had, for the original readers, something of the instant impact that a political cartoon might have on us today. In order to understand such images, one must be familiar with the symbols being used. The cartoons and posters from the two World Wars—in which animals such as the lion of England, the Russian bear, the Uncle Sam character, and bestial monsters depicted the enemy at the time—are a sufficient example to shed light on how the original readers would have read these biblical works. To understand individual pictures such as the beast of Rev. 13 or the four-headed leopard of Dan. 7, one had to know something of the specific historical background.
Earlier images could be adapted and reapplied. So, for example, Joseph’s vision of his family as the sun, moon, and stars (Gen. 37:9) is used to identify the woman of Rev. 12:1 as the personification of the nation of Israel—the line from which the Savior would come.
God’s revelation to his people. Apocalyptic literature functions in much the same way that Jesus used his parables (Matt. 13:11). It is often used in situations where God’s people appear to be under physical threat. The symbols and the patterns used enable those on the inside to follow what is happening while leaving those on the outside none the wiser. The ability of God’s people to understand the revelation identifies and discriminates them from God’s enemies, who appear confused.
Apocalyptic literature is not always about the future, let alone about the end of the world. Mostly it is designed to enable the believer to see past the confusions and fears of present experience, and to be reminded that God is in control and that everything is going according to his plans and purposes. God’s plans may include calling upon his people to face a range of challenges or to suffer persecution. These visions enable believers to see meaning and purpose in these experiences and to keep their focus faithfully on God.
The book of Job offers some insight into the nature of apocalyptic literature, even though it is not usually regarded as such. The narrator (without explaining how he knows these things) begins by informing the reader of the events that transpired in God’s heavenly court. This enables the reader (unlike Job or his friends) to put Job’s experience in proper context. Eliphaz’s challenge then has powerful irony when he asks Job, “Do you listen in on God’s council? Do you have a monopoly on wisdom?” (15:8). The resolution of their deliberations is made possible only when God comes to earth in visible form and reveals his judgment on the matter. This is designed to evoke not a blind faith but an informed faithfulness that allows for the reality of God’s superior wisdom and his right to determine all things for his glory.
When the king had a dream in Gen. 41:15–16 (cf. Dan. 2:27–28), the point is made that no one can discover the mind of God. However, God has graciously revealed his plans to his servants, who can then explain them to a world that lives in darkness and ignorance of these things.
The one who received such revelations often needs an interpreting angel (Dan. 7:16; Zech. 1:9; cf. Gen. 28:10–17; Exod. 3:1–6). The seer, like the reader, is initially confused. The interpreting angel answers the seer’s questions, and the reader can in turn understand what is happening.
Understanding apocalyptic literature. Given the historical distance between the modern reader and the original authors of the biblical apocalyptic texts, we might be tempted to think that they cannot be understood with any certainty. They are nonetheless God’s revelation to his people and were given with the intention that they be understood. Comprehending an apocalyptic vision requires us to search the Scriptures to see how these symbols and patterns were interpreted, and then to see how they are again used to give us some insight into God’s power, grace, and calling upon his people in each age.
For example, the beasts representing four successive kingdoms (Dan. 7:1–7, 15–23) later are redrawn into a composite symbol of any contemporary human power operating under Satan’s rule (Rev. 13:1–3). The similarities between Babylon and Rome identified both as agents of Satan’s regime; the connection then became an apocalyptic accusation (1 Pet. 5:13) offering assurance to God’s people. Herod’s attempt to kill Jesus (Matt. 2:16) follows the pattern of Pharaoh’s attempt on Israel (Exod. 1–2), so the picture of Satan as the red dragon attacking the woman giving birth identifies the one behind Herod’s actions while pointing to the God who brought his people out of Egypt as the one who will save those who put their trust in Jesus.
The birthright consists of the material blessings of a father being passed on to his sons. By right, the oldest son received a double portion of the inheritance received by the children (Gen. 25:29–34; Deut. 21:15–17; Luke 15:11–32). The birthright is often connected to, but needs to be distinguished from, the blessing. The blessing generally involved more of a focus on a spiritual allotment, but it crossed paths with the birthright with respect to future leadership and authority of the person (Gen. 27; 49). Royal succession was also a birthright, though God could countermand this privilege (1 Kings 2:15; 2 Chron. 21:3).
In the NT, Jesus’ birthright includes the throne of David, a position of honor as God’s unique Son, and creation itself (Rom. 8:29; Col. 1:18; Heb. 1:4–6). The low regard with which Esau viewed his birthright is also used as a warning in Hebrews to encourage Christians not to take their spiritual inheritance lightly (Heb. 12:16–17).
The books of Samuel tell the story of how kingship began in Israel and was subsequently secured under David. Almost all of David’s own story is recounted in Samuel, including God’s promise to him of a dynasty. This promise became a key seedbed for the messianic hope within the OT, which finds its fulfillment in Jesus as David’s son (Matt. 1:1).
Genre and Purpose
Samuel is part of a block of texts running from Joshua through Kings (excluding Ruth), which is known in the Hebrew Bible as the Former Prophets. This block offers a more or less continuous account of Israel’s life in the land of promise from its entry under Joshua until the exile after Jerusalem was captured by the Babylonians (2 Kings 25). Any assessment of the genre and purpose of Samuel must consider its relationship to these surrounding texts, though it should also recognize the distinctive elements of Samuel itself.
At its simplest, Samuel is a work of narrative prose that tells how kingship began in Israel and was secured under David after the failure of Saul, though it also contains a number of important poems. Although contemporary history writing would not be done in the same way, since Samuel points to the ways in which God is active throughout this time, Samuel certainly offers a testimony to this crucial period in Israel’s history. It is not the whole story of the period, as its testimony is concerned with a specific set of issues, and that testimony is related through God’s purposes for Samuel, Saul, and David. But this observation is vital for appreciating that Samuel is not just the story of how kingship came to Israel but is specifically a theological examination of it. It explores how God was at work, fulfilling the hope for kingship that had been expressed through Judg. 17–21, while also providing hope that the exile was not the end of his purposes for Israel as a whole and the kings of David’s line in particular. We should not think of this as a dry piece of history writing, for an important element is also that the telling of this story should entertain and grip those who either read or (perhaps more likely) heard it. Knowing that God had acted in the past for his people and that these actions continued to be important was not enough; the excitement that this should generate also needed to be apparent in the skill with which the story was told.
Outline
I. The Rise of Samuel (1 Sam. 1–7)
II. The Birth of Monarchy (1 Sam. 8–12)
III. Saul’s Early Reign and Rejection (1 Sam. 13–15)
IV. Long Rivalry Narrative: David and Saul (1 Sam.16–2 Sam. 1)
A. David’s anointing and arrival at court (1 Sam. 16–17)
B. David within Saul’s court (1 Sam. 18–20)
C. David as an outlaw in Judah (1 Sam. 21–26)
D. David in Philistine territory and Saul’s death (1 Sam. 27–2 Sam. 1)
V. Short Rivalry Narrative: David and Ish-Bosheth (2 Sam. 2:1–5:5)
VI. First Summary of David’s Reign (2 Sam. 5:6–8:18)
VII. Narrative of David’s Court (2 Sam. 9–20)
A. David accepts Mephibosheth (2 Sam. 9)
B. The war with Ammon and David’s sin (2 Sam. 10–12)
C. Long rebellion narrative: Absalom against David (2 Sam. 13–19)
D. Short rebellion narrative: Sheba against David (2 Sam. 20)
VIII. Second Summary of David’s Reign (2 Sam. 21–24)
Composition
Authorship and sources. The books of Samuel are anonymous, and any assessment of their authorship needs to start with this basic fact. There is a tradition in the Talmud (b. B. Bat. 14b; 15a) that associates the book with Samuel, Nathan, and Gad, presumably concluding that the books of Samuel constitute the source mentioned by 1 Chron. 29:29. But this reference is only to information on David’s life and thus is unlikely to refer to the whole of Samuel. Since Samuel’s own death is recorded in 1 Sam. 25:1, the book’s title in our tradition (in the LXX the books of Samuel are the first two books of Kingdoms, which continue into Kings) is unlikely to refer to authorship. Rather, it is more likely that a later author has drawn together a range of source materials in order to offer a coherent testimony about the origins of kingship.
For some time, the main sources behind Samuel seemed to have been identified, and they included a series of Shiloh traditions concerning the end of the house of Eli and the rise of Samuel (1 Sam. 1:1–4:1a), an ark narrative (2 Sam. 4:1b–7:1; 6), traditions concerning Saul and the origins of kingship (1 Sam. 7:2–15:35), a history of David’s rise (1 Sam. 16:1–2 Sam. 5:5), a succession narrative (2 Sam. 9–20), and a Samuel appendix (2 Sam. 21–24). Within this analysis, the place of 2 Sam. 5:6–25 and 2 Sam. 7:1–8:17 remained unclear, but the general thought was that the sources were more or less placed one after the other in their chronological sequence. But the probability of this conclusion has been challenged in recent times because the various sections of the books are clearly aware of information in other parts, so that the whole is actually well integrated. In addition, the actual boundaries of the sources remained unclear. An unfortunate effect of the source theories is that they tended to downplay some parts of the book, especially 2 Sam. 21–24, as being of less importance, whereas some recent studies have shown that they are closely integrated into the rest of the book, tying together themes developed elsewhere while also showing the structural integrity of the whole of Samuel.
Samuel is likely the end product of several stages of material collected together, rather than being the product of sources that are kept intact, but it is still a unified work. Possibly the oldest material is the collection of longer poems in 1 Sam. 2:1–10; 2 Sam. 1:17–27; 22:1–23:7, all of which draws on common themes and language and comments on the nature of kingship. The opening and closing blocks form the bookends, raising the hope of kingship (1 Sam. 2:1–10) and then commenting on how the king must submit to God’s reign (2 Sam. 22:1–23:7). In the central poem (2 Sam. 1:17–27) David laments the deaths of Saul and Jonathan. It is likely that these poems were joined with the stories about Samuel, Saul, and David in the ninth century BC but were then carefully placed to comment on the stories and yet also be commented on by them. Further editing may have continued until the time of Hezekiah in the late eighth century BC. Later on, more or less the whole of Samuel as we know it was included in the Former Prophets, perhaps during the exile. The important point to note here is that Samuel is a carefully composed whole and not simply a collection of source materials.
Literary devices. Evidence for the nature of the book’s composition can be seen in how it employs certain literary devices throughout. Two that are worth noting are the way the text plays with narrative chronology and employs repetition in various forms. The play with narrative chronology means that although the movement of the book is broadly chronological (moving from the origins of the monarchy to the latter period of David’s reign), not every element is recorded in its actual chronological sequence, since at some points other factors were more important. Alternatively, at some points different narrative strands are brought into a chronological relationship with one another, most notably in comparing the locations of David and Saul in 1 Sam. 27–2 Sam. 1. A simple example of relating material outside its chronological sequence occurs in 1 Sam. 26:12, where it is said that God had caused Saul’s soldiers to sleep so that David could enter Saul’s camp only after David had reached Saul, though clearly the soldiers must already have been asleep.
At other points, the breaks with chronological sequence cover different stories about David. For example, in 2 Sam. 5:17–8:14 there are four accounts about David, two in which he overcomes enemies (5:17–25; 8:1–14) and two associated with events in Jerusalem and public worship (6:1–7:29). Since 7:1 tells us that David’s desire to build a temple came after God had delivered him from all his enemies, it follows that the events of chapter 7 must have come after those of 8:1–14. Here, arranging the material to highlight the theme of public worship was more important than placing it in chronological sequence.
This same section also demonstrates the use of repetition. Hence, 5:17–25 recounts two nearly identical defeats of the Philistines in which David must trust God, while the victories in 8:1–14 are twice said to come about because God gave David victory wherever he went (8:6, 14). Similarly, both 6:1–23 and 7:1–29 depend upon interest in the ark and thus mutually interpret each other. Other large-scale repetitions include two announcements of the coming of kingship (1 Sam. 2:10, 34), two announcements of the end of Eli and his family in the sanctuary at Shiloh (1 Sam. 2:27–36; 3:10–14), and two times when David does not kill Saul (1 Sam. 24; 26). In an oral culture, such repetitions are not evidence of poor composition but rather are a crucial tool for emphasizing the central themes being developed. In addition, variations within each repetition are a tool for increasing the audience’s interest, showing that the authors of Samuel were interested in both giving historical testimony and entertaining their audience.
Text
It is generally agreed that the text of Samuel poses more than its fair share of difficulties, something that can be seen in the often significant differences between the received Hebrew text (MT) and the early translations, especially the main Greek translation (LXX). For example, in 1 Sam. 17 the best-regarded edition of the LXX lacks vv. 12–31, 50, 55–58, and even in shared material it is sometimes significantly shorter. It is generally agreed that the Greek version resolves a number of anomalies, but is this because the MT has been expanded or because the LXX has been abbreviated? In addition, three significant Samuel manuscripts were found at Qumran. Although two of these are only fragmentary, one covers significant portions of Samuel. Although the disputed portions of 1 Sam. 17 are absent from it, there are some points where it appears to support the LXX and others where it agrees with the MT while also introducing some other issues of its own.
It is clear, therefore, that complex issues are involved in determining the text of Samuel, and one must avoid taking a doctrinaire position and allow each point to be resolved on its own merits. At the same time, the difficulties should not be magnified beyond reason, since large sections of the text can be established with reasonable certainty, and for all the problems, the MT remains a reliable guide. One might suggest in the case of 1 Sam. 17, for example, that the LXX text represents an early attempt to address apparent difficulties in the narrative (especially the question of when Saul met David) that nevertheless failed to realize that not everything in Samuel is narrated in exact chronological order. Nevertheless, anyone who compares different translations of Samuel (e.g., NIV and NRSV) will notice variants and should make use of good commentaries at that point.
Central Themes
The reign of God. Kingship lies at the heart of Samuel. But although it is concerned with the story of Israel’s first two kings (Abimelek in Judg. 9 is an aberration and probably only a local figure), it places their story within the framework of God’s reign. No matter what authority a king in Israel might claim, it was always subject to God’s greater authority. Indeed, Samuel makes clear that God did not need a king but rather chose the monarchy as the means by which his own reign might be demonstrated.
An important way in which God’s reign is demonstrated is through the motif of the reversal of fortunes, in which the powerful are brought down and the weak raised. This is announced in Hannah’s Song (1 Sam. 2:4–8) and is then demonstrated when God removed the corrupt family of Eli from their position of power in the sanctuary at Shiloh (2:27–36; 4:1–18). On the other hand, Samuel himself came to prominence even though he had no position of power. Saul, likewise, although a member of a relatively wealthy family (9:1–2), knew that he was not someone who had automatic power (9:21) but still was raised up to be king by God. Yet when he, like Eli before him, became corrupt and clung to power rather than submit to God, he too was removed so that he could be replaced (15:28–29).
David also came from a humble position as the youngest son in his family (1 Sam. 16:11), but unlike Eli and Saul, he would not grasp power for himself. Indeed, he twice refused to kill Saul when he had the chance (1 Sam. 24; 26) and punished those who claimed that they could exercise violence on his behalf (2 Sam. 1:11–16; 4:9–12). Even when it seemed that David had later lost all to Absalom, he held to the fact that he could reign only as long as he had God’s support (2 Sam. 15:25–26). This, in fact, is a central theme in 2 Sam. 7 when David wanted to build a temple for God, for there it is made clear that David cannot act without God’s authority, and that his descendants will have authority as long as they too submit to God (2 Sam. 7:11b–15). David’s closing songs (22:1–23:7) make clear that the king has no authority apart from God.
Kingship. Kingship in Israel is closely related to the theme of God’s reign. The possibility of kingship first arises in Hannah’s Song (1 Sam. 2:10) and is confirmed by the man of God who announces the judgment against Eli’s family (2:34). Both references occur before Israel’s elders requested a king because of the failure of Samuel’s sons (8:1–9), indicating that the request for a king did not take God by surprise. In addition, it indicates that authentic kingship in Israel could only be that which was initiated by God.
The story of Saul’s rise to the throne needs to be read in light of this. Although the human move to kingship stemmed from the request of the elders for a king (1 Sam. 8:4–9), it was still the case that Saul could become king only because of God’s decision. Although 1 Sam. 8–12 often has been broken down into supposedly conflicting sources, it is better to read it as a unified text but to note that the narrator’s voice is not equivalent to any of the characters that speak through it. When the text is understood in this way, it is possible to appreciate that kingship was part of God’s purposes for Israel, but it needed to follow his model. Kings in Israel could prosper only when they submitted to the greater reign of God. It was Saul’s mistake that he did not recognize this. David, although he made some terrible mistakes, always understood this truth, and his closing songs (2 Sam. 22:1–23:7) reflect on it. David learned what Saul never did: power is never something to be grasped; rather, it can only be accepted as a gracious gift from God to be used for his purposes.
New Testament Connections
The importance of the books of Samuel for the NT is far greater than its five direct citations there (Acts 13:22; Rom. 15:9; 2 Cor. 6:18 [2×]; Heb. 1:5) might indicate. The theme of kingship and the associated promise to David in 2 Sam. 7 are fundamental to the messianic hope throughout the OT and are picked up in the NT. Even when the NT cites other OT texts (such as Ps. 2) with reference to Jesus, it is still the books of Samuel that lie behind the citation. In addition, the NT frequently indicates that Jesus was a son of David (e.g., Matt. 1:1). Although such texts do not cite Samuel directly, they clearly allude to it because of God’s promise that David’s throne would be established forever (2 Sam. 7:16). Jesus’ ministry transcends that of David in every way, but we cannot understand his ministry apart from David and God’s promise to him.
Modern science and the Bible present accounts of the creation of the world that often are claimed to be incompatible. In response, interpreters of the Bible have adopted a range of approaches in order to overcome the apparent tensions. At one end of the spectrum is the position that wholeheartedly adopts modern scientific thinking and restricts the Bible’s authority only to matters of faith—where “faith” must necessarily exclude anything that may touch on scientific matters. The other end of the spectrum lies with those who reject any claims of modern science that stand at odds with a “literal” reading of the Bible, affirming the truth of the Bible in all matters upon which it touches. Among contemporary Christians a number of positions on this spectrum are represented in modern debate; some of the more important of these are outlined in what follows here.
First is the view that a literal reading of the creation account in the Bible is necessitated by the nature of God and his self-revelation as trustworthy and true. Consequently, where conflict with modern science occurs, the literal reading of the Bible is right and modern science is wrong. In spite of this disagreement, the Bible’s revelation can be supported through the application of modern scientific methodologies, and consequently an alternate scientific account of the creation of the world can be produced that reflects rather than contradicts the biblical account. Proponents of this view typically affirm the notion that the earth was created in six days within the last few thousand years. Some variations to this interpretation do exist, such as the view that a vast expanse of time may have passed between Gen. 1:1 and Gen. 1:3.
Second, it is possible to employ modern science to illuminate the meaning of the creation accounts. This approach has been used to suggest, for example, that a scientific model of the ancient earth’s atmosphere may have provided conditions that could allow for the earthbound observer to believe that day and night existed before the appearance of the sun and other heavenly bodies. It has also facilitated the production of elaborate and detailed explanations of precisely how Gen. 1–2 can be interpreted to agree with the current scientific account of origins. One major problem is that it allows science ultimately to dictate the interpretation of the Bible, but other problems are apparent as well, such as the fact that because modern science becomes a prerequisite for a correct understanding of the biblical text, the true meaning of the text was unavailable in the past and, in particular, unavailable to its original audience.
Third, others claim that some aspects of the creation account in the Bible are figurative and should not be understood literally. The application of such an approach varies enormously, with disagreement over precisely which parts of the text are to be read figuratively and which literally. What this approach does allow for, however, is that where there are apparent conflicts between a literal reading of the text and modern science, both science and the text can be correct if the text is understood figuratively. One example of this approach suggests that the days of Gen. 1 are a literary device and, as such, should not be interpreted as literal twenty-four-hour days. This view thus allows its proponents to reconcile the creation account with the scientific view that the earth is billions of years old.
The fourth approach—in many ways a refinement of the third—emphasizes the notion that the Bible represents God’s communication with people who lived in a particular historical and cultural context. As such, God’s message is conveyed in their language, using expressions, idioms, concepts, and ideas with which they were familiar in order to effectively communicate with those people. Thus, some aspects of the text are “reflective” instead of didactic, accommodating to the needs of the people in order to effectively communicate the intended message. So, for example, when the OT refers to the heart as the locus of the human intellect, this reflects not an authoritative decree relating to human physiology but rather an aspect of the Hebrew language and culture employed by God to speak effectively to his people. Aspects of the creation account often cited as incoherent or problematical thus actually reflect accommodation to aspects of the worldview of the audience employed by God to communicate accurately with his people.
In spite of the often heated exchanges between proponents of these various positions, many in each group remain committed to the authority of the Bible. For those Christians who do accept that the prevailing modern scientific account of the origin of the universe is accurate (if not necessarily complete), it nonetheless remains impossible to reasonably claim that the Bible has nothing to say about creation or that it can have no impact on how scientists understand the universe. While God is “other”—that is, not part of creation—he is still intimately associated with it: he upholds it, controls it, and purposes it for his own ends (Isa. 46:9–11; Heb. 1:3).
Regardless of how one resolves the difficulties apparent in reconciling the biblical creation account with modern science, the existence of the problem itself highlights a fundamental aspect of Christianity: God intervenes in human history. If God interacts with his creation, then this invariably impacts how we should understand the universe in which we live. Science often adopts an unnecessarily atheistic set of presuppositions that are not only incompatible with biblical faith but also ultimately unnecessary for the pursuit of scientific understanding.
It is also important to acknowledge that science has long influenced readings of the Bible’s creation account, whether that science was that of Aristotle or that of Einstein. For example, many early scholars felt it necessary to note the figurative nature of the days in Gen. 1, because they held that the creation of the universe was instantaneous. History has shown that for those who seek to reconcile their interpretation of the opening chapters of Genesis with the prevailing scientific paradigm of their day, each major shift in scientific understanding necessitates a revision of their understanding of the text. That this is so ought to serve as a warning that this approach is problematic. Understanding the Bible’s creation account is clearly not contingent upon understanding modern science, or else it would have been useless to the many generations who came before us. Rather, in light of the fact that the account was written in an ancient language to the people of ancient Israel, it is more appropriate to read the text through their understanding of the world in order to derive the meaning that they would have attained as they read. We seek to understand the meaning of the text through a study of its language and culture. Part of this process is necessarily to seek to understand the meaning of the ideas implicit in the text, such as the manner in which it expresses details of the world in which the Israelites lived.
Of all aspects of science that have caused difficulties for readers of the Bible, the theory of evolution has perhaps been most consistently at the forefront of debate. Here again the spectrum of approaches outlined above is evident in Christian responses to the theory, and here again the degree of discord has frequently been overstated. Furthermore, the debate has tended to polarize views, driving the more vocal defenders of evolution to express their position more vehemently and with more certitude than is actually warranted by the evidence, and for some opponents of evolution similarly to overstate their case.
Even for those who hold that modern science is incompatible with biblical revelation on the matter of the origins of the universe and life, there remain substantial areas of science that do not come into conflict with the Bible, so we need to avoid an irrational response to modern science that rejects the whole on the basis of a disagreement over a part. It is also important to retain a degree of humility in our approach to both science and the Bible, for we are infallible interpreters neither of the physical world in which we live nor of the word of God.
Finally, it is important to acknowledge that the Bible makes certain claims that necessarily impact one’s view of science. It is difficult to escape the fact that the Bible clearly depicts God as both responsible for creation and intervening in history. Consequently, a scientific worldview that seeks to comprehensively exclude God from involvement with his creation is clearly neither biblical nor compatible with the Bible except through application of the most elaborate exegetical and hermeneutical gymnastics.
Modern science and the Bible present accounts of the creation of the world that often are claimed to be incompatible. In response, interpreters of the Bible have adopted a range of approaches in order to overcome the apparent tensions. At one end of the spectrum is the position that wholeheartedly adopts modern scientific thinking and restricts the Bible’s authority only to matters of faith—where “faith” must necessarily exclude anything that may touch on scientific matters. The other end of the spectrum lies with those who reject any claims of modern science that stand at odds with a “literal” reading of the Bible, affirming the truth of the Bible in all matters upon which it touches. Among contemporary Christians a number of positions on this spectrum are represented in modern debate; some of the more important of these are outlined in what follows here.
First is the view that a literal reading of the creation account in the Bible is necessitated by the nature of God and his self-revelation as trustworthy and true. Consequently, where conflict with modern science occurs, the literal reading of the Bible is right and modern science is wrong. In spite of this disagreement, the Bible’s revelation can be supported through the application of modern scientific methodologies, and consequently an alternate scientific account of the creation of the world can be produced that reflects rather than contradicts the biblical account. Proponents of this view typically affirm the notion that the earth was created in six days within the last few thousand years. Some variations to this interpretation do exist, such as the view that a vast expanse of time may have passed between Gen. 1:1 and Gen. 1:3.
Second, it is possible to employ modern science to illuminate the meaning of the creation accounts. This approach has been used to suggest, for example, that a scientific model of the ancient earth’s atmosphere may have provided conditions that could allow for the earthbound observer to believe that day and night existed before the appearance of the sun and other heavenly bodies. It has also facilitated the production of elaborate and detailed explanations of precisely how Gen. 1–2 can be interpreted to agree with the current scientific account of origins. One major problem is that it allows science ultimately to dictate the interpretation of the Bible, but other problems are apparent as well, such as the fact that because modern science becomes a prerequisite for a correct understanding of the biblical text, the true meaning of the text was unavailable in the past and, in particular, unavailable to its original audience.
Third, others claim that some aspects of the creation account in the Bible are figurative and should not be understood literally. The application of such an approach varies enormously, with disagreement over precisely which parts of the text are to be read figuratively and which literally. What this approach does allow for, however, is that where there are apparent conflicts between a literal reading of the text and modern science, both science and the text can be correct if the text is understood figuratively. One example of this approach suggests that the days of Gen. 1 are a literary device and, as such, should not be interpreted as literal twenty-four-hour days. This view thus allows its proponents to reconcile the creation account with the scientific view that the earth is billions of years old.
The fourth approach—in many ways a refinement of the third—emphasizes the notion that the Bible represents God’s communication with people who lived in a particular historical and cultural context. As such, God’s message is conveyed in their language, using expressions, idioms, concepts, and ideas with which they were familiar in order to effectively communicate with those people. Thus, some aspects of the text are “reflective” instead of didactic, accommodating to the needs of the people in order to effectively communicate the intended message. So, for example, when the OT refers to the heart as the locus of the human intellect, this reflects not an authoritative decree relating to human physiology but rather an aspect of the Hebrew language and culture employed by God to speak effectively to his people. Aspects of the creation account often cited as incoherent or problematical thus actually reflect accommodation to aspects of the worldview of the audience employed by God to communicate accurately with his people.
In spite of the often heated exchanges between proponents of these various positions, many in each group remain committed to the authority of the Bible. For those Christians who do accept that the prevailing modern scientific account of the origin of the universe is accurate (if not necessarily complete), it nonetheless remains impossible to reasonably claim that the Bible has nothing to say about creation or that it can have no impact on how scientists understand the universe. While God is “other”—that is, not part of creation—he is still intimately associated with it: he upholds it, controls it, and purposes it for his own ends (Isa. 46:9–11; Heb. 1:3).
Regardless of how one resolves the difficulties apparent in reconciling the biblical creation account with modern science, the existence of the problem itself highlights a fundamental aspect of Christianity: God intervenes in human history. If God interacts with his creation, then this invariably impacts how we should understand the universe in which we live. Science often adopts an unnecessarily atheistic set of presuppositions that are not only incompatible with biblical faith but also ultimately unnecessary for the pursuit of scientific understanding.
It is also important to acknowledge that science has long influenced readings of the Bible’s creation account, whether that science was that of Aristotle or that of Einstein. For example, many early scholars felt it necessary to note the figurative nature of the days in Gen. 1, because they held that the creation of the universe was instantaneous. History has shown that for those who seek to reconcile their interpretation of the opening chapters of Genesis with the prevailing scientific paradigm of their day, each major shift in scientific understanding necessitates a revision of their understanding of the text. That this is so ought to serve as a warning that this approach is problematic. Understanding the Bible’s creation account is clearly not contingent upon understanding modern science, or else it would have been useless to the many generations who came before us. Rather, in light of the fact that the account was written in an ancient language to the people of ancient Israel, it is more appropriate to read the text through their understanding of the world in order to derive the meaning that they would have attained as they read. We seek to understand the meaning of the text through a study of its language and culture. Part of this process is necessarily to seek to understand the meaning of the ideas implicit in the text, such as the manner in which it expresses details of the world in which the Israelites lived.
Of all aspects of science that have caused difficulties for readers of the Bible, the theory of evolution has perhaps been most consistently at the forefront of debate. Here again the spectrum of approaches outlined above is evident in Christian responses to the theory, and here again the degree of discord has frequently been overstated. Furthermore, the debate has tended to polarize views, driving the more vocal defenders of evolution to express their position more vehemently and with more certitude than is actually warranted by the evidence, and for some opponents of evolution similarly to overstate their case.
Even for those who hold that modern science is incompatible with biblical revelation on the matter of the origins of the universe and life, there remain substantial areas of science that do not come into conflict with the Bible, so we need to avoid an irrational response to modern science that rejects the whole on the basis of a disagreement over a part. It is also important to retain a degree of humility in our approach to both science and the Bible, for we are infallible interpreters neither of the physical world in which we live nor of the word of God.
Finally, it is important to acknowledge that the Bible makes certain claims that necessarily impact one’s view of science. It is difficult to escape the fact that the Bible clearly depicts God as both responsible for creation and intervening in history. Consequently, a scientific worldview that seeks to comprehensively exclude God from involvement with his creation is clearly neither biblical nor compatible with the Bible except through application of the most elaborate exegetical and hermeneutical gymnastics.
In the Bible, gestures are made with either parts of the body or items, such as clothing and rings, directly connected to the body. For this reason, it makes sense to classify biblical gestures in relation to the different body parts that are identified with the gestures. It is, however, challenging to know where to draw a line on classifying a gesture. For example, a devious person is described in Prov. 6:13 as one “who winks maliciously with his eye, signals with his feet and motions with his fingers.” It is unclear whether this is a single gesture or multiple ones, and whether all signify different things or the same thing.
Head
Gestures that relate to the head range from simple head motions to semiviolent acts such as hair pulling. Simple head motions include lifting of one’s head in honor (Gen. 40:13), bowing one’s head in mourning (Ps. 35:14), tossing one’s head in mockery and derision (2 Kings 19:21), and shaking one’s head as insult (Ps. 22:7; Mark 15:29).
A common action is the shaving of the head, which can be for purification (Lev. 14:8–9; Num. 6:9; 8:7 [includes all body hair]), mourning (Deut. 21:11–13; Job 1:20; Isa. 15:2; Jer. 16:6; 47:5; 48:37; Ezek. 27:31; Amos 8:10; Mic. 1:16), remorse (Jer. 41:5), or shaming (Jer. 2:16). However, priests are forbidden from shaving their heads even in mourning (Lev. 21:5; Ezek. 44:20), while the high priest is to wear a turban on his head during sacrificial duties (Exod. 29:6).
Anointing of the head is done when a priest or king is installed (Exod. 29:7; Ps. 23:5) or simply as a sign of God’s goodness and blessing on a person (Eccles. 9:8). Blessing may also involve placing a hand on the head of the person being blessed (Gen. 48:14–18; Exod. 29:19), while the same gesture on the head of sacrificial animals is a symbolic means of transferring sin (Lev. 3:2, 8, 13; 4:4, 15, 24, 29, 33; 8:18, 22).
In the OT, a woman’s head can be shaved in mourning (Deut. 21:12–13; cf. Jer. 47:5), but in the NT, a shaved head can be a cause for disgrace (1 Cor. 11:5–6).
Face. Facial gestures range from expressions to actions such as touching or covering the face. A face can be downcast in anger (Gen. 4:5–6) or bowed to the ground in honor (Gen. 48:12), in dejection (Josh. 7:6), in humility (Ruth 2:10), in worship (2 Chron. 20:18; Ps. 138:2), in subjection, supplication, reverence (1 Sam. 20:41; 25:41; 28:14; 2 Sam. 14:4, 22; 18:28; 24:20; 1 Kings 1:23; 1 Chron. 21:20), or in dread (e.g., Moses before Yahweh [Exod. 3:6]).
The face can be covered or veiled as an indication of uncleanness (Lev. 13:45), in grief/mourning (2 Sam. 19:4; Ezek. 24:17), in resignation (1 Kings 19:13), with intent to deceive in adultery (Job 24:15), or in horror of judgment (Esther 7:8; Ezek. 12:6, 12). It can also be buried in the dust in remorse (Lam. 3:29).
God can be described as hiding or turning away his face against wickedness and evil (Deut. 31:18; 32:20; Ps. 34:16; Isa. 8:17; Jer. 33:5; Ezek. 7:22; 15:7; 20:46; 21:2) or in an act of withholding blessings (Job 13:15; Pss. 10:1; 13:1; 27:9; 30:7; 34:16; Isa. 54:8; 59:2; 64:7). God can also turn his face toward a place in judgment (Ezek. 4:3, 7; 6:2). In 1 Sam. 5:3–4 the idol of the Philistine god Dagon falls facedown before the ark of the covenant, apparently overpowered by Yahweh.
Acts of humiliation or dishonor can involve spitting in the face (Num. 12:14; Deut. 25:9; Job 17:6; 30:10; Isa. 50:6), slapping the face (1 Kings 22:24; 2 Chron. 18:23; Job 16:10; Lam. 3:30; Mic. 5:1), pulling a skirt up over someone’s face in shaming judgment (Jer. 13:26; Nah. 3:5), and hooking and dragging someone by the nose (2 Kings 19:28). Although being struck on the cheek is humiliating, Jesus instructs his disciples to “turn the other cheek” as a sign of resistance to violence (Matt. 5:39; Luke 6:29).
One can lift one’s face in worship (2 Kings 20:2; Job 22:26; Isa. 38:2) or in confidence (Job 11:15) and can fail to lift it in shame and disgrace (Ezra 9:6). Although the shaving of beards in mourning is common practice (Ezra 9:3; Isa. 15:2; Jer. 41:5; 48:37), the forced shaving of beards is an act of shaming and insulting (2 Sam. 10:4; 1 Chron. 19:4–5; Isa. 7:20; 50:6).
Eyes. Winking the eye is perceived as an evil, deceptive, or malicious act (Ps. 35:19; Prov. 6:13; 16:30). Eyes can be lifted up in worship and expectation (Pss. 121:1; 123:1).
Mouth. Pursed lips can characterize an evil person (Prov. 16:30), while a hand can be clapped over the mouth in awe and submission (Job 21:5; 40:4). Psalm 72:9 looks to the righteous king before whom the desert tribes will bow and whose “enemies lick the dust” in defeat.
Ears. An Israelite slave for life is to have a hole punched through his or her earlobe, held against a doorpost, with an awl (Exod. 21:6; Deut. 15:17). Blood is sprinkled on the lobe of the right ear for purification (Exod. 29:20; Lev. 8:23–24; 14:17), while supplication can be described as asking for the turning of an ear (2 Kings 19:16; Ps. 31:2). Turning one’s ear signifies paying attention or taking something to heart (Ps. 49:4; Prov. 4:20; 5:13).
Neck. The neck can be adorned (Song 1:10) as a sign of pride and honor (Gen. 41:42; Judg. 5:30; Prov. 1:9; Ezek. 16:11) or outstretched in arrogance (Ps. 75:5 TNIV: “Do not lift your horns against heaven; do not speak with outstretched neck”). Jeremiah put a yoke on his neck as a prophetic sign of the approaching Babylonian conquest (Jer. 27–28). While putting someone’s neck in a yoke is an act of triumphal conquest (Ps. 105:18), stepping on the neck of a subdued enemy is an act of subjugation and humiliation (Josh. 10:24).
Body
Nakedness in public is considered shameful (Gen. 9:22–23; Nah. 3:5; Rev. 3:18), so that it is sometimes pictured as part of divine judgment (Deut. 28:48; Isa. 47:2–3; Lam. 1:8; Mic. 1:11) or as a sign of promiscuity (Isa. 57:8; Ezek. 16:36). An unkempt body can be a sign of mourning, as it is for Mephibosheth (2 Sam. 19:24). A certain kind of body covering is a sign of marriage proposal or protection (Ezek. 16:8; 23:18; Hos. 2:9). Body dismembering, even in war, is an act of humiliation (2 Sam. 4:12).
Chest. In self-mortification, one can pound one’s chest in mourning (Ezek. 21:12) or in remorse (Jer. 31:19; Luke 18:13). The breasts of sacrificial animals are waved before God as a “wave offering” before being eaten (Exod. 29:26; Lev. 7:30; Num. 6:20).
Hand, arm. Hand gestures include motions such as lifting hands in worship, clapping hands in joy, and clapping a hand over one’s mouth in awe. The expression “outstretched arm” (Exod. 6:6; Deut. 4:34; 5:15; 7:19; 9:29; 11:2; 26:8; 1 Kings 8:42; 2 Kings 17:36; 2 Chron. 6:32; Ps. 136:12; Jer. 21:5; 27:5; 32:17, 21; Ezek. 20:33–34) indicates power, might, strength. It is often used of God to indicate his ability to defeat powerful armies and enemies. God is implored by the psalmist to lift his hand and act for the sake of the righteous (Ps. 10:12).
Since the right hand is the hand of power, the act of sitting at the right hand indicates being favored (1 Kings 2:19; Ps. 110:1; Matt. 22:44; Mark 12:36; Luke 20:43; Acts 2:35; Heb. 1:3; 8:1; 10:12; 12:2; 1 Pet. 3:22). When taking an oath, one places a hand under the thigh/crotch (Gen. 24:2; 47:29), most likely the right hand (see Gen. 48:14, 17–18; Lev. 8:23; 14:14).
Clapping the hands can be a sign of awe (Ezek. 6:11), malice, or remorse (25:6), while a bared arm can be a sign of judgment (4:7). Job claps his hand over his mouth in awe of God and in submission and repentance (Job 40:4–5).
Hands can be lifted in worship (1 Kings 8:22; 1 Tim. 2:8), to beseech (Ps. 28:2), to protect and bless (Ps. 10:12), in an oath (Deut. 32:40), or to harm (Exod. 24:11; 1 Sam. 24:6, 10; 2 Sam.1:14; 18:12).
Pilate washes his hands to proclaim his innocence over the death of Jesus (Matt. 27:24), while 1 Pet. 5:6 urges believers to humble themselves “under God’s mighty hand,” so that in due time they will be lifted up.
Buttocks. Exposure of the buttocks can serve as a humiliating insult and provocation, as happens to David’s men (2 Sam. 10:4; 1 Chron. 19:4) and Egyptian and Cushite captives (Isa. 20:4).
Leg. The leg or thigh is often a euphemism for the male reproductive organs, so that putting one’s hand under a thigh in oath (Gen. 24:2; 47:29) may involve actually grabbing the genitalia. Animal thighs are waved to God in offering before being consumed (Lev. 9:21; 10:14; Num. 6:20), while oaths administered to uncover adultery cause a guilty woman’s thighs to waste (Num. 5:2–27).
The most common gesture involving the knee is bowing, in worship or reverence (Deut. 33:3; Isa. 45:23; Rom. 11:4; 14:11; Phil. 2:10), in defeat (2 Sam. 22:40; Ps. 18:38; Isa. 60:14), in distress (Ps. 57:6), or in respect (1 Kings 1:31). In what seems to be a somewhat awkward position, Elijah puts his face between his knees in prayer (1 Kings 18:42).
Feet. Gestures involving the feet are probably the most common gestures in the Bible. Feet can be washed in hospitality (Gen. 18:4; 19:2; 24:32; 43:24; 1 Sam. 25:41), in ablution (Exod. 30:19, 21; 40:31), or in supplication (1 Sam. 25:41). Feet can be bathed in oil as a blessing (Deut. 33:24), uncovered in marriage proposals (Ezek. 16:8; cf. Ruth 3:4, 7), and stamped in remorse (Ezek. 25:6), and sandals can be removed from them in honor (Exod. 3:1–10) or disgrace (Deut. 25:9). The heavenly seraphs cover their feet in supplication before the throne of God (Isa. 6:2), while the feet of humans can signal deception (Prov. 6:13).
Enemies can be placed under one’s feet in subjugation (1 Kings 5:3; Pss. 8:6; 18:39; 45:5; 47:3; 110:1; Mal. 4:3; Rom. 16:20), have their feet shackled or ensnared (Job 13:27; 33:11; Pss. 25:15; 105:18), and be forced to lick the feet of victors in humiliation and defeat (Isa. 49:23). The righteous will bathe their feet in the blood of their enemies in revenge (Pss. 58:10; 68:23).
Those overwhelmed can grovel at the feet of the powerful (2 Kings 4:27, 37; Esther 8:3; Matt. 28:9; Mark 5:33; 7:25; Acts 10:25), while those emboldened can rise to their feet in confidence (Ezek. 2:1–2; 3:24; Dan. 8:18).
In the NT, dust can be shaken off one’s feet as an indication of divine judgment (Matt. 10:14; Mark 6:11; Luke 9:5), even as lying at a person’s feet is a recognition of authority/submission (Matt. 15:30; Mark 5:33; Luke 8:28, 35, 41, 47; 10:39; 17:16; Acts 4:37; 5:2). A woman publicly washes Jesus’ feet with her tears, wipes them with her hair, and kisses and perfumes them in what seems an act of love and repentance; but Jesus indicates that she has prepared his body for burial (Luke 7:38–46; John 11:2; 12:3). Jesus washes his disciples’ feet as instruction on servanthood and discipleship (John 13:5–14).
Fingers, Toes. Different fingers seem to have different roles assigned them. A finger sprinkles blood in cleansing (Lev. 4:6, 17, 25, 30, 34; 8:15; 9:9; 14:16; 16:14, 19; Num. 19:4), while blood on the tip of the right thumb and on the right big toe is for cleansing (Exod. 29:20; Lev. 8:23–24; 14:17, 25, 28).
One wears a signet ring as a sign of power (Esther 3:10) or a gesture of restoration and forgiveness (Luke 15:22). But fingers can also motion in deception (Prov. 6:13) or point in blame (Isa. 58:9). Jesus writes with his finger on the ground, apparently as a gesture of indifference to those pointing accusing fingers (John 8:6).
Clothes and Shoes
Garments. Garments attain significance as they are related to specific emotions. Wearing sackcloth and ashes in mourning is common (Gen. 37:34; Ezek. 7:18; 2 Sam. 3:31), while ripping garments in mourning is also frequently attested (Gen. 37:34; 44:13; Lev. 10:6; 21:10; Josh. 7:6; 2 Sam. 1:11; 3:31; 13:31; 1 Kings 21:27; 2 Kings 2:12; 19:1; Esther 4:1; Isa. 32:11; 37:1; Jer. 41:5).
Ripping someone’s clothing to expose nakedness (Ezek. 16:39; 2 Sam. 10:4) or pulling a person’s skirts up over the face (Jer. 13:26) is an act of shaming or insulting. But tearing one’s clothes off can be a sign of fury (Matt. 26:65). Persons with defiling diseases are expected to warn off others by wearing torn clothes and shouting, “Unclean! Unclean!” (Lev. 13:45).
By laying their clothes at Saul’s feet, the crowd may be acknowledging his authority in the stoning of Stephen (Acts 7:58).
Sandals. A woman can remove a man’s sandal in contempt (Deut. 25:5–10), while a sandal can be removed by a kinsman-redeemer to indicate giving up a right or as a transfer of property (Ruth 4:7–8). A sandal can also be removed in mourning (Ezek. 24:17) or be cast over a piece of land to claim ownership (Pss. 60:8; 108:9).
Prophetic Gestures
Prophetic gestures in the OT are mostly concerned with the call to repentance and approaching judgments upon failure to heed the warning. Jeremiah puts a yoke on his neck (Jer. 27–28; cf. Deut. 28:48), Ezekiel cooks with dung (Ezek. 4:12) and sleeps on his left side for 390 days and then on his right side for 40 days (4:5–6), Isaiah strips off his clothing (Isa. 20:2–3; 32:11), and Hosea marries an unfaithful wife (Hos. 1:1–3).
In the NT, Jesus cleanses the temple as an act of symbolic judgment (Matt. 21:12; Mark 11:15; John 2:15). He also breaks bread and drinks wine (Matt. 26:26; Mark 14:22; Luke 22:19; 24:30, 35; Acts 2:46; 20:11; 27:35; 1 Cor. 11:24–25) and washes his disciples’ feet (John 13:1–13), thereby establishing symbolic Christian practices.
The books of Genesis through Esther in the OT and Matthew through Acts in the NT often are categorized as history. However, in the ancient world the literary genre of history in the modern sense did not exist. Moreover, the English word “history” is ambiguous and can refer to either the events of the past or verbal accounts of these events. For the sake of clarity, this article refers to verbal accounts of the past as historiography and to the events themselves as history. Historiography is a genre wherein a nation or group attempts to render an account of its collective past. Biblical historiography was a creative attempt to depict and interpret events of the past, constrained by its sources (and inspired by the Holy Spirit), emphasizing Israel’s and the church’s relationship with God. The historian engaged in research, gathering information from oral or written sources, then recorded his findings in a unified narrative. This process set apart ancient historians from storytellers; however, ancient historiography was in fact closer to storytelling than modern history writing.
Methods of Ancient Historiography
Biblical writers used techniques similar to those of ancient Greek historians. Greek historiography was often organized thematically, using genealogies, speeches, or narrative formulas as structuring devices, instead of strictly following chronological order. Speeches were largely the creative work of the historian rather than being drawn from transcripts in sources. Also, both the overall content and particular details of the narrative were subject to the historian’s interpretation of the events. This same historical method can be illustrated by the following biblical examples.
Second Kings 20:12–19 describes Hezekiah showing off the riches of Jerusalem to his Babylonian visitors. However, the preceding narrative describes the loss of the riches of Jerusalem to an invading Assyrian king (18:15–16). Also, in 2 Kings 20:6 Isaiah predicts that Jerusalem will be delivered from “the hand of the king of Assyria,” but this deliverance has already been recorded in 2 Kings 19. This suggests, and extrabiblical evidence confirms, that the history of 2 Kings 20 actually took place before the history of 2 Kings 18–19.
In the books of Joshua through Kings, speeches are used as structuring devices, with main characters emphasizing the central theological points of the author at key points in his story (e.g., Josh. 1:11–15 [Joshua]; 1 Sam. 12 [Samuel]; 1 Kings 8:14–61 [Solomon]). All these speeches use distinctive vocabulary, suggesting that the same author composed them. Since the writer was not present at the occasion of these speeches (as they occurred long before his birth), he composed the speech (inventing much of the wording) according to what he thought appropriate to the given situation. The creative contributions of each historian can be clearly seen when a speech is recorded in two or more biblical books (compare the Beatitudes in Matt. 5:1–12 and Luke 6:20–26, or the prayer of Solomon in 1 Kings 8:22–53 and 2 Chron. 6:12–39). This is not to say that the speeches are historically misleading, but they were necessarily composed to present a narrative of the past. All historiography, ancient and modern, involves creative writing, selectivity, and interpretation of sources.
In comparison to its OT counterpart, NT historiography was written quite close to the events that it records, but it still shows great variation in descriptive details. For example, the resurrection narrative in Matt. 28:2 mentions one angel, Mark 16:5 refers to a young man, Luke 24:4 speaks of two men, and John 20:12 mentions two angels. Rather than indicating the fictional nature of the event, the differences are due to the interpretation that guided their writing (i.e., the person near Christ’s tomb, appearing to be human to some, was interpreted as an angel by others). When dealing with OT narratives, which often chronicle events from the distant past, we must remember that its historiography is interpretative in nature and does not attempt to merely recount what happened as objectively as possible. For example, 2 Kings 15:37 records an attack against Judah by foreign kings; however, the author does not describe any reasons for the attack, simply saying, “In those days the Lord began to send Rezin king of Aram and Pekah son of Remaliah against Judah.” While no doubt there were indeed political reasons for the attack, the author does not comment on these reasons but instead gives a theological interpretation to explain it. In fact, theological reasons for past events and their relevance for the present and the future characterize biblical historiography. The ultimate explanation for historical events is God and his providential mastery of history.
The Function and Reliability of Biblical Historiography
Biblical historiography emphasizes continuity with the past by viewing the present as continuing the past’s story and focusing on cause-and-effect relationships in the past to explain the present and bring out a theological message for its readers. For example, 2 Kings 17 describes the Assyrians destroying northern Israel and deporting its population. This is as much as a modern historian would derive from the event. However, in the Bible this event is significant because “all this took place because the Israelites had sinned against the Lord their God. . . . They worshiped other gods” (2 Kings 17:7). This interpretation is elaborated in the chapter, dominating vv. 7–23, while the narration of the event itself is succinctly described in vv. 3–6. The theological interpretation of the event was more important than the event itself.
This does not mean that biblical historiography is fictitious, as it is clearly based on actual events that took place in the past. Biblical historiography has been largely corroborated by extrabiblical material and fits well into an overall ancient Near Eastern historical context, though it does not agree perfectly with everything we know about ancient history. Since recognizing the genre (e.g., parable, poem) of any biblical passage is imperative for correct interpretation, knowledge of the differences between ancient and modern historiography is vital for understanding the historical books of the Bible. Scripture affirms that God spoke in a variety of ways (Heb. 1:1); one way was through the genre of historiography.
The books of Genesis through Esther in the OT and Matthew through Acts in the NT often are categorized as history. However, in the ancient world the literary genre of history in the modern sense did not exist. Moreover, the English word “history” is ambiguous and can refer to either the events of the past or verbal accounts of these events. For the sake of clarity, this article refers to verbal accounts of the past as historiography and to the events themselves as history. Historiography is a genre wherein a nation or group attempts to render an account of its collective past. Biblical historiography was a creative attempt to depict and interpret events of the past, constrained by its sources (and inspired by the Holy Spirit), emphasizing Israel’s and the church’s relationship with God. The historian engaged in research, gathering information from oral or written sources, then recorded his findings in a unified narrative. This process set apart ancient historians from storytellers; however, ancient historiography was in fact closer to storytelling than modern history writing.
Methods of Ancient Historiography
Biblical writers used techniques similar to those of ancient Greek historians. Greek historiography was often organized thematically, using genealogies, speeches, or narrative formulas as structuring devices, instead of strictly following chronological order. Speeches were largely the creative work of the historian rather than being drawn from transcripts in sources. Also, both the overall content and particular details of the narrative were subject to the historian’s interpretation of the events. This same historical method can be illustrated by the following biblical examples.
Second Kings 20:12–19 describes Hezekiah showing off the riches of Jerusalem to his Babylonian visitors. However, the preceding narrative describes the loss of the riches of Jerusalem to an invading Assyrian king (18:15–16). Also, in 2 Kings 20:6 Isaiah predicts that Jerusalem will be delivered from “the hand of the king of Assyria,” but this deliverance has already been recorded in 2 Kings 19. This suggests, and extrabiblical evidence confirms, that the history of 2 Kings 20 actually took place before the history of 2 Kings 18–19.
In the books of Joshua through Kings, speeches are used as structuring devices, with main characters emphasizing the central theological points of the author at key points in his story (e.g., Josh. 1:11–15 [Joshua]; 1 Sam. 12 [Samuel]; 1 Kings 8:14–61 [Solomon]). All these speeches use distinctive vocabulary, suggesting that the same author composed them. Since the writer was not present at the occasion of these speeches (as they occurred long before his birth), he composed the speech (inventing much of the wording) according to what he thought appropriate to the given situation. The creative contributions of each historian can be clearly seen when a speech is recorded in two or more biblical books (compare the Beatitudes in Matt. 5:1–12 and Luke 6:20–26, or the prayer of Solomon in 1 Kings 8:22–53 and 2 Chron. 6:12–39). This is not to say that the speeches are historically misleading, but they were necessarily composed to present a narrative of the past. All historiography, ancient and modern, involves creative writing, selectivity, and interpretation of sources.
In comparison to its OT counterpart, NT historiography was written quite close to the events that it records, but it still shows great variation in descriptive details. For example, the resurrection narrative in Matt. 28:2 mentions one angel, Mark 16:5 refers to a young man, Luke 24:4 speaks of two men, and John 20:12 mentions two angels. Rather than indicating the fictional nature of the event, the differences are due to the interpretation that guided their writing (i.e., the person near Christ’s tomb, appearing to be human to some, was interpreted as an angel by others). When dealing with OT narratives, which often chronicle events from the distant past, we must remember that its historiography is interpretative in nature and does not attempt to merely recount what happened as objectively as possible. For example, 2 Kings 15:37 records an attack against Judah by foreign kings; however, the author does not describe any reasons for the attack, simply saying, “In those days the Lord began to send Rezin king of Aram and Pekah son of Remaliah against Judah.” While no doubt there were indeed political reasons for the attack, the author does not comment on these reasons but instead gives a theological interpretation to explain it. In fact, theological reasons for past events and their relevance for the present and the future characterize biblical historiography. The ultimate explanation for historical events is God and his providential mastery of history.
The Function and Reliability of Biblical Historiography
Biblical historiography emphasizes continuity with the past by viewing the present as continuing the past’s story and focusing on cause-and-effect relationships in the past to explain the present and bring out a theological message for its readers. For example, 2 Kings 17 describes the Assyrians destroying northern Israel and deporting its population. This is as much as a modern historian would derive from the event. However, in the Bible this event is significant because “all this took place because the Israelites had sinned against the Lord their God. . . . They worshiped other gods” (2 Kings 17:7). This interpretation is elaborated in the chapter, dominating vv. 7–23, while the narration of the event itself is succinctly described in vv. 3–6. The theological interpretation of the event was more important than the event itself.
This does not mean that biblical historiography is fictitious, as it is clearly based on actual events that took place in the past. Biblical historiography has been largely corroborated by extrabiblical material and fits well into an overall ancient Near Eastern historical context, though it does not agree perfectly with everything we know about ancient history. Since recognizing the genre (e.g., parable, poem) of any biblical passage is imperative for correct interpretation, knowledge of the differences between ancient and modern historiography is vital for understanding the historical books of the Bible. Scripture affirms that God spoke in a variety of ways (Heb. 1:1); one way was through the genre of historiography.
The founder of what became known as the movement of Jesus followers or Christianity. For Christian believers, Jesus Christ embodies the personal and supernatural intervention of God in human history.
Introduction
Name. Early Christians combined the name “Jesus” with the title “Christ” (Acts 5:42; NIV: “Messiah”). The name “Jesus,” from the Hebrew Yehoshua or Yeshua, was a common male name in first-century Judaism. The title “Christ” is from the Greek christos, a translation of the Hebrew mashiakh (“anointed one, messiah”). Christians eventually were named after Jesus’ title (Acts 11:26). During the ministry of Jesus, Peter was the first disciple to recognize Jesus as the Messiah (Matt. 16:16; Mark 9:29; Luke 9:20).
Sources. From the viewpoint of Christianity, the life and ministry of Jesus constitute the turning point in human history. From a historical perspective, ample early source materials would be expected. Indeed, both Christian and non-Christian first-century and early second-century literary sources are extant, but they are few in number. In part, this low incidence is due to society’s initial resistance to the Jesus followers’ movement. The ancient Roman historian Tacitus called Christianity “a superstition,” since its beliefs did not fit with the culture’s prevailing worldview and thus were considered antisocial. Early literary sources therefore are either in-group documents or allusions in non-Christian sources.
The NT Gospels are the principal sources for the life and ministry of Jesus. They consist of Matthew, Mark, Luke (the Synoptic Gospels), and John. Most scholars adhere to the so-called Four Source Hypothesis. In this theory, Mark was written first and was used as a source by Matthew and Luke, who also used the sayings source Q (from German Quelle, meaning “source”) as well as their own individual sources M (Matthew) and L (Luke). John used additional sources.
The early church tried to put together singular accounts, so-called Gospel harmonies, of the life of Jesus. The Gospel of the Ebionites represents one such attempt based on the Synoptic Gospels. Another harmony, the Diatessaron, based on all four Gospels, was produced around AD 170 by Tatian. Additional source materials concerning the life of Christ are provided in the NT in texts such as Acts, the Pauline Epistles, the General Epistles, and the Revelation of John. Paul wrote to the Galatians, “But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law” (Gal. 4:4). The first narrative about Jesus by the Christian community was a passion narrative, the account of his death and resurrection. The first extant references to this tradition are found in Paul’s letters (1 Cor. 2:2; Gal. 3:1). The resurrection was recognized from the beginning as the cornerstone of the Christian faith (1 Cor. 15:13–14).
Among non-Christian sources, the earliest reference to Jesus is found in a letter written circa AD 112 by Pliny the Younger, the Roman governor of Bithynia-Pontus (Ep. 10.96). The Roman historian Tacitus mentions Christians and Jesus around AD 115 in his famous work about the history of Rome (Ann. 15.44). Another Roman historian, Suetonius, wrote around the same time concerning unrest among the Jews in Rome because of a certain “Chrestos” (Claud. 25.4). Some scholars conclude that “Chrestos” is a misspelling of “Christos,” a reference to Jesus.
The Jewish author Josephus (first century AD) mentions Jesus in a story about the Jewish high priest Ananus and James the brother of Jesus (Ant. 20.200). A controversial reference to Jesus appears in a different part of the same work, where Josephus affirms that Jesus is the Messiah and that he rose from the dead (Ant. 18.63–64). The majority of scholars consider this passage to be authentic but heavily edited by later Christian copyists. Another Jewish source, the Talmud, also mentions Jesus in several places, but these references are very late and of little historical value.
Noncanonical Gospels that mention Jesus include, for example, the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Peter, the Gospel of James, the Gospel of Judas Iscariot, the Gospel of the Hebrews, the Egerton Gospel, and the Gospel of Judas. Although some of these may contain an occasional authentic saying or event, for the most part they are late and unreliable.
Jesus’ Life
Birth and childhood. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke record Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem during the reign of Herod the Great (Matt. 2:1; Luke 2:4, 11). Jesus was probably born between 6 and 4 BC, shortly before Herod’s death (Matt. 2:19). Both Matthew and Luke record the miracle of a virginal conception made possible by the Holy Spirit (Matt. 1:18; Luke 1:35). Luke mentions a census under the Syrian governor Quirinius that was responsible for Jesus’ birth taking place in Bethlehem (2:1–5). Both the census and the governorship at the time of the birth of Jesus have been questioned by scholars. Unfortunately, there is not enough extrabiblical evidence to either confirm or disprove these events, so their veracity must be determined on the basis of one’s view regarding the general reliability of the Gospel tradition.
On the eighth day after his birth, Jesus was circumcised, in keeping with the Jewish law, at which time he officially was named “Jesus” (Luke 2:21). He spent his growing years in Nazareth, in the home of his parents, Joseph and Mary (2:40). Of the NT Gospels, the Gospel of Luke contains the only brief portrayal of Jesus’ growth in strength, wisdom, and favor with God and people (2:40, 52). Luke also contains the only account of Jesus as a young boy (2:41–49).
Jesus was born in a lower socioeconomic setting. His parents offered a temple sacrifice appropriate for those who could not afford to sacrifice a sheep (Luke 2:22–24; cf. Lev. 12:8). Joseph, Jesus’ earthly father, was a carpenter or an artisan in wood, stone, or metal (Matt. 13:55). From a geographical perspective, Nazareth was not a prominent place for settling, since it lacked fertile ground. Jesus’ disciple Nathanael expressed an apparently common first-century sentiment concerning Nazareth: “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” (John 1:46).
Jesus was also born in a context of scandal. Questions of illegitimacy were surely raised, since his mother Mary was discovered to be pregnant before her marriage to Joseph. According to Matthew, only the intervention of an angel convinced Joseph not to break his betrothal (Matt. 1:18–24). Jesus’ birth took place in Bethlehem, far from his parents’ home in Nazareth. According to kinship hospitality customs, Joseph and Mary would have expected to stay with distant relatives in Bethlehem. It is likely that they were unwelcome because of Jesus’ status as an illegitimate child; thus Mary had to give birth elsewhere and place the infant Jesus in a feeding trough (Luke 2:7). A similar response was seen years later in Nazareth when Jesus was identified as “Mary’s son” (Mark 6:3) rather than through his paternal line, thereby shaming him as one who was born an illegitimate child. Jesus was likewise rejected at the end of his life as the crowds cried, “Crucify him!” (Matt. 27:22–23; Mark 15:13–14; Luke 23:21; John 19:6, 15). When Jesus was arrested, most of his followers fled (Matt. 26:56; Mark 14:50–52), and a core disciple, Peter, vehemently denied knowing him (Matt. 26:69–74; Mark 14:66–71; Luke 22:55–60; John 18:15–17, 25–27). His own siblings did not believe in him (John 7:5) and were evidently ashamed of his fate, since from the cross Jesus placed the care of his mother into the hands of “the disciple whom he loved” (19:26–27) rather than the next brother in line, as was customary.
Baptism, temptation, and start of ministry. After Jesus was baptized by the prophet John the Baptist (Luke 3:21–22), God affirmed his pleasure with him by referring to him as his Son, whom he loved (Matt. 3:17; Mark 1:11; Luke 3:22). Jesus’ baptism did not launch him into fame and instant ministry success; instead, Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where he was tempted for forty days (Matt. 4:1–11; Mark 1:12–13; Luke 4:1–13). Mark stresses that the temptations immediately followed the baptism. Matthew and Luke identify three specific temptations by the devil, though their order for the last two is reversed. Both Matthew and Luke agree that Jesus was tempted to turn stones into bread, expect divine intervention after jumping off the temple portico, and receive all the world’s kingdoms for worshiping the devil. Jesus resisted all temptation, quoting Scripture in response.
Matthew and Mark record that Jesus began his ministry in Capernaum in Galilee, after the arrest of John the Baptist (Matt. 4:12–13; Mark 1:14). Luke says that Jesus started his ministry at about thirty years of age (3:23). This may be meant to indicate full maturity or perhaps correlate this age with the onset of the service of the Levites in the temple (cf. Num. 4:3). John narrates the beginning of Jesus’ ministry by focusing on the calling of the disciples and the sign performed at a wedding at Cana (1:35–2:11).
Jesus’ public ministry: chronology. Jesus’ ministry started in Galilee, probably around AD 27/28, and ended with his death around AD 30 in Jerusalem. The temple had been forty-six years in construction (generally interpreted as the temple itself and the wider temple complex) when Jesus drove out the money changers (John 2:20). According to Josephus, the rebuilding and expansion of the second temple had started in 20/19 BC, during the eighteenth year of Herod’s reign (Ant. 15.380). The ministry of John the Baptist had commenced in the fifteenth year of Tiberius (Luke 3:1–2), who had become a coregent in AD 11/12. From these dates of the start of the temple building and the correlation of the reign of Tiberius to John the Baptist’s ministry, the onset of Jesus’ ministry can probably be dated to AD 27/28.
The Gospel of John mentions three Passovers and another unnamed feast in John 5:1. The length of Jesus’ ministry thus extended over three or four Passovers, equaling about three or three and a half years. Passover, which took place on the fifteenth of Nisan, came on a Friday in AD 30 and 33. The year of Jesus’ death was therefore probably AD 30.
Jesus’ ministry years may be divided broadly into his Galilean and his Judean ministries. The Synoptic Gospels describe the ministry in Galilee from various angles but converge again as Jesus enters Judea.
Galilean ministry. The early stages of Jesus’ ministry centered in and around Galilee. Jesus presented the good news and proclaimed that the kingdom of God was near. Matthew focuses on the fulfillment of prophecy (Matt. 4:13–17). Luke records Jesus’ first teaching in his hometown, Nazareth, as paradigmatic (Luke 4:16–30); the text that Jesus quoted, Isa. 61:1–2, set the stage for his calling to serve and revealed a trajectory of rejection and suffering.
All Gospels record Jesus’ gathering of disciples early in his Galilean ministry (Matt. 4:18–22; Mark 1:16–20; Luke 5:1–11; John 1:35–51). The formal call and commissioning of the Twelve who would become Jesus’ closest followers is recorded in different parts of the Gospels (Matt. 10:1–4; Mark 3:13–19; Luke 6:12–16). A key event in the early ministry is the Sermon on the Mount/Plain (Matt. 5:1–7:29; Luke 6:20–49). John focuses on Jesus’ signs and miracles, in particular in the early parts of his ministry, whereas the Synoptics focus on healings and exorcisms.
During Jesus’ Galilean ministry, onlookers struggled with his identity. However, evil spirits knew him to be of supreme authority (Mark 3:11). Jesus was criticized by outsiders and by his own family (3:21). The scribes from Jerusalem identified him as a partner of Beelzebul (3:22). Amid these situations of social conflict, Jesus told parables that couched his ministry in the context of a growing kingdom of God. This kingdom would miraculously spring from humble beginnings (4:1–32).
The Synoptics present Jesus’ early Galilean ministry as successful. No challenge or ministry need superseded Jesus’ authority or ability: he calmed a storm (Mark 4:35–39), exorcized many demons (Mark 5:1–13), raised the dead (Mark 5:35–42), fed five thousand (Mark 6:30–44), and walked on water (Mark 6:48–49).
In the later part of his ministry in Galilee, Jesus often withdrew and traveled to the north and the east. The Gospel narratives are not written with a focus on chronology. However, only brief returns to Galilee appear to have taken place prior to Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem. As people followed Jesus, faith was praised and fear resolved. Jerusalem’s religious leaders traveled to Galilee, where they leveled accusations and charged Jesus’ disciples with lacking ritual purity (Mark 7:1–5). Jesus shamed the Pharisees by pointing out their dishonorable treatment of parents (7:11–13). The Pharisees challenged his legitimacy by demanding a sign (8:11). Jesus refused them signs but agreed with Peter, who confessed, “You are the Messiah” (8:29). Jesus did provide the disciples a sign: his transfiguration (9:2–8).
Jesus withdrew from Galilee to Tyre and Sidon, where a Syrophoenician woman requested healing for her daughter. Jesus replied, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel” (Matt. 15:24). Galileans had long resented the Syrian provincial leadership partiality that allotted governmental funds in ways that made the Jews receive mere “crumbs.” Consequently, when the woman replied, “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table,” Jesus applauded her faith (Matt. 15:27–28). Healing a deaf-mute man in the Decapolis provided another example of Jesus’ ministry in Gentile territory (Mark 7:31–37). Peter’s confession of Jesus as the Christ took place during Jesus’ travel to Caesarea Philippi, a well-known Gentile territory. The city was the ancient center of worship of the Hellenistic god Pan.
Judean ministry. Luke records a geographic turning point in Jesus’ ministry as he resolutely set out for Jerusalem, a direction that eventually led to his death (Luke 9:51). Luke divides the journey to Jerusalem into three phases (9:51–13:21; 13:22–17:10; 17:11–19:27). The opening verses of phase one emphasize a prophetic element of the journey. Jesus viewed his ministry in Jerusalem as his mission, and the demands on discipleship intensified as Jesus approached Jerusalem (Matt. 20:17–19, 26–28; Mark 10:38–39, 43–45; Luke 14:25–35). Luke presents the second phase of the journey toward Jerusalem with a focus on conversations regarding salvation and judgment (Luke 13:22–30). In the third and final phase of the journey, the advent of the kingdom and the final judgment are the main themes (17:20–37; 19:11–27).
Social conflicts with religious leaders increased throughout Jesus’ ministry. These conflicts led to lively challenge-riposte interactions concerning the Pharisaic schools of Shammai and Hillel (Matt. 19:1–12; Mark 10:1–12). Likewise, socioeconomic feathers were ruffled as Jesus welcomed young children, who had little value in society (Matt. 19:13–15; Mark 10:13–16; Luke 18:15–17).
Passion Week, death, and resurrection. Each of the Gospels records Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem with the crowds extending him a royal welcome (Matt. 21:4–9; Mark 11:7–10; Luke 19:35–38; John 12:12–15). Luke describes Jesus’ ministry in Jerusalem as a time during which Jesus taught in the temple as Israel’s Messiah (19:45–21:38).
In Jerusalem, Jesus cleansed the temple of profiteering (Mark 11:15–17). Mark describes the religious leaders as fearing Jesus because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching, and so they “began looking for a way to kill him” (11:18). Dismayed, each segment of Jerusalem’s temple leadership inquired about Jesus’ authority (11:27–33). Jesus replied with cunning questions (12:16, 35–36), stories (12:1–12), denunciation (12:38–44), and a prediction of Jerusalem’s own destruction (13:1–31). One of Jesus’ own disciples, Judas Iscariot, provided the temple leaders the opportunity for Jesus’ arrest (14:10–11).
At the Last Supper, Jesus instituted a new Passover, defining a new covenant grounded in his sufferings (Matt. 26:17–18, 26–29; Mark 14:16–25; Luke 22:14–20). He again warned the disciples of his betrayal and arrest (Matt. 26:21–25, 31; Mark 14:27–31; Luke 22:21–23; John 13:21–30), and later he prayed for the disciples (John 17:1–26) and prayed in agony and submissiveness in the garden of Gethsemane (Matt. 26:36–42; Mark 14:32–42; Luke 22:39–42). His arrest, trial, crucifixion, death, and resurrection followed (Matt. 26:46–28:15; Mark 14:43–16:8; Luke 22:47–24:9; John 18:1–20:18). Jesus finally commissioned his disciples to continue his mission by making disciples of all the nations (Matt. 28:18–20; Acts 1:8) and ascended to heaven with the promise that he will one day return (Luke 24:50–53; Acts 1:9–11).
The Identity of Jesus Christ
Various aspects of Jesus’ identity are stressed in the four NT Gospels, depending on their target audiences. In the Gospels the witnesses to Jesus’ ministry are portrayed as constantly questioning and examining his identity (Matt. 11:2–5; 12:24; 26:63; 27:11; Mark 3:22; 8:11; 11:28; 14:61; Luke 7:18–20; 11:15; 22:67, 70; 23:39; John 7:20, 25–27; 18:37). Only beings of the spiritual realm are certain of his divinity (Mark 1:34; 3:11; Luke 4:41). At Jesus’ baptism, God referred to him as his Son, whom he loved (Matt. 3:17; Mark 1:11; Luke 3:22). Likewise, when Jesus was transfigured in the presence of Peter, James, and John, a voice affirmed, “This is my Son, whom I love” (Matt. 17:5; Mark 9:7). At the moment of his death, the questioning of Jesus’ identity culminated in a confession by a Roman centurion and other guards: “Surely he was the Son of God!” (Matt. 27:54; cf. Mark 15:39).
Miracle worker. In the first-century setting, folk healers and miracle workers were part of the fabric of society. Jesus, however, performed signs and miracles in order to demonstrate the authority of the kingdom of God over various realms: disease, illness, the spiritual world, nature, and even future events. Especially in the Gospel of John, Jesus’ signs and miracles are used to show his authority and thus his identity.
No challenge superseded Jesus’ authority. Among his ample miracles and signs, he changed water into wine (John 2:7–9), calmed a storm in the sea (Matt. 8:23–27; Mark 4:35–39; Luke 8:22–25), exorcized demons (Matt. 9:32–34; Mark 5:1–13; Luke 9:42–43), healed the sick (Mark 1:40–44), raised the dead (Matt. 9:23–25; Mark 5:35–42; Luke 7:1–16; 8:49–54; John 11:17, 38–44), performed miraculous feedings (Matt. 14:17–21; 15:34–38; Mark 6:30–44; 8:5–9; Luke 9:10–17; John 6:8–13), and walked on water (Matt. 14:25–26; Mark 6:48–49; John 6:19).
The Pharisees requested miracles as evidence of his authority (Mark 8:11–12). Jesus refused, claiming that a wicked and adulterous generation asks for a miraculous sign (Matt. 12:38–39; 16:1–4). The only sign that he would give was the sign of Jonah—his death and resurrection three days later—a personal sacrifice, taking upon himself the judgment of the world (Matt. 12:39–41).
Rabbi/teacher. Jesus’ teaching style was similar to other first-century rabbis or Pharisees (Mark 9:5; 10:51; John 1:38; 3:2). What distinguished him was that he spoke with great personal authority (Matt. 5:22, 28, 32, 39, 44; Mark 1:22). Like other rabbis of his day, Jesus gathered disciples. He called these men to observe his lifestyle and to join him in his ministry of teaching, healing, and exorcism (Matt. 10:1–4; Mark 3:13–19; Luke 6:12–16).
Jesus used a variety of teaching methods. He frequently spoke in parables (Matt. 6:24; 13:24–52; 18:10–14, 23–35; 21:28–22:14; 24:32–36, 45–51; 25:14–30; Mark 4:1–34; 12:1–12; 13:28–34; Luke 8:4–18; 12:41–46; 13:18–21; 14:15–24; 15:1–16:15, 19–31; 18:1–14; 19:11–27; 20:9–19; 21:29–33), used figures of speech (John 10:9), hyperbole (Matt. 19:24; Mark 10:25; Luke 18:25), argumentation (Matt. 26:11), object lessons (Matt. 24:32), frequent repetition (Matt. 13:44–47; Luke 13:18–21), practical examples, and personal guidance.
Major themes in Jesus’ teaching include the kingdom of God, the cost of discipleship, internal righteousness, the end of the age, his identity, his mission, and his approaching death. In his teachings, observance of Torah was given new context and meaning because God’s kingdom had “come near” (Matt. 3:2). Jesus had come to fulfill the law (Matt. 5:17).
Jesus’ teaching ministry often took place amid social conflict. These conflicts were couched in so-called challenge-riposte interactions in which the honor status of those involved was at stake. Jesus used these interactions as teachable moments. When questioned, Jesus gave replies that reveal omniscience or intimate knowledge of God’s will, especially in the Gospel of John. In the Synoptic Gospels, Jesus’ answers are both ethical and practical in nature. The Synoptics portray Jesus as challenged repeatedly with accusations of violating customs specified in the Jewish law. Jesus’ answers to such accusations often echoed the essence of 1 Sam. 15:22, “To obey is better than sacrifice,” phrased by Jesus as “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” (Matt. 9:13; 12:7). An overall “better than” ethic was common in Jesus’ public teaching.
The Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5–7) contains a “better than” ethic in which internal obedience is better than mere outward obedience. For example, Jesus said that anger without cause is equal to murder (Matt. 5:21–22), that looking at a woman lustfully amounts to adultery (Matt. 5:28), and that instead of revenging wrongs one must reciprocate with love (Matt. 5:38–48). Jesus valued compassion above traditions and customs, even those contained within the OT law. He desired internal obedience above the letter of the law.
Jesus’ teachings found their authority in the reality of God’s imminent kingdom (Matt. 3:2; 10:7; Mark 1:15; Luke 10:9), necessitating repentance (Matt. 3:2), belief (Mark 1:15), dependence (Matt. 18:3–5; Mark 10:15), and loyalty to a new community—the family of Jesus followers (Mark 3:34; 10:29–30). Jesus urged, “Seek first [God’s] kingdom and his righteousness” (Matt. 6:33). Preaching with such urgency was common among prophetic teachers of the intertestamental period. Jesus, however, had his own grounds for urgency. He held that God deeply valued all humans (Matt. 10:31) and would bring judgment swiftly (Matt. 25:31–46).
Examples of a “greater good” ethic in the Synoptics include the occasions when Jesus ate with sinners (Mark 2:16–17). Jesus used an aphorism in response to accusations about his associations with sinners, saying, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (Mark 2:17). He advocated harvesting and healing on the Sabbath (Mark 2:23–28; 3:1–6), and when he was accused of breaking the law, he pointed to an OT exception (1 Sam. 21:1–6) to declare compassion appropriate for the Sabbath. Jesus also applied the “greater good” ethic in the case of divorce, since women suffered the societal stigma of adultery and commonly became outcasts following divorce (Matt. 19:8–9; Mark 10:5–9).
Jesus’ kingdom teachings were simultaneously spiritual, ethical, and eschatological in application. The teachings were aimed at internal transformation (Matt. 5:3–9; 18:3; Mark 10:15) and spurring on love (Matt. 5:44; 7:21). The Spirit of the Lord had called Jesus to bless the hurting ones as they aspired to a godly character. Jesus taught, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:48), and “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:36). The “blessed” ones in Jesus’ teachings are poor of spirit, peace driven, mournful, and hungry for righteousness, consumed with emulating godly character.
Some scholars believe that Jesus promoted an “interim ethic” for the kingdom, intended only for a short period prior to the end of time. However, he was explicit regarding the longevity of his teachings: “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away” (Matt. 24:35; Luke 16:17).
Messiah. The concept of an anointed one, a messiah, who would restore the glories of David’s kingdom and bring political stability was common in Jewish expectation. Both before and after the Babylonian captivity, many Jews longed for one who would bring peace and protection. Israel’s prophets had spoken of a coming deliverer, one who would restore David’s kingdom and reign in justice and righteousness (2 Sam. 7:11–16; Isa. 9:1–7; 11:1–16; Jer. 23:5–6; 33:15–16; Ezek. 37:25; Dan. 2:44; Mic. 5:2; Zech. 9:9). Isaiah’s description of the servant (Isa. 53) whose suffering healed the nation provided a slightly different angle of expectation in terms of a deliverer.
Jesus’ authority and popularity as a miracle worker called up messianic images in first-century Jewish minds. On several occasions hearers called him “Son of David,” hoping for the Messiah (Matt. 12:23; 21:9). Simon Peter was the first follower who confessed Jesus as the Christ, the “Messiah” (Matt. 16:16; Mark 8:29). In line with Isaiah’s model of the Suffering Servant, Jesus focused not on political ends but rather on spiritual regeneration through his own sacrificial death (Mark 10:45).
Eschatological prophet. Many scholars claim that Jesus is best understood as a Jewish apocalypticist, an eschatological prophet who expected God to intervene in history, destroy the wicked, and bring in the kingdom of God. Central in this understanding are Jesus’ prophecies concerning the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem (Matt. 24:1–2, 15–22; Mark 13:1; Luke 21:5–24; John 2:19; Acts 6:14). In addition, it is noted that Jesus had twelve disciples, representative of the twelve tribes of Israel (Matt. 19:2–28; Luke 22:23–30). Certain of Jesus’ parables, those with apocalyptic images of coming judgment, present Jesus as an eschatological prophet (Matt. 24:45–25:30; Luke 12:41–46; 19:11–27).
Suffering Son of God. Jesus’ first recorded teaching in a synagogue in Nazareth was paradigmatic (Luke 4:16–21). He attributed the reading, Isa. 61:1–2, to his personal calling to serve, and in doing so he revealed a trajectory of suffering. The Gospel of Mark likewise aptly portrays Jesus as the suffering Son of God. Jesus’ own teachings incorporated his upcoming suffering (Mark 8:31; 9:12–13, 31; 10:33–34). He summarized his mission by declaring, “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). His earthly career ended with a trial in Jerusalem consisting of both Roman and Jewish components (Matt. 26:57–68; 27:1–31; Mark 14:53–65; 15:1–20; Luke 22:54–23:25; John 18:19–24; 18:28–19:16). He was insulted, scourged, mocked, and crucified.
Jesus’ suffering culminated in his humiliating death by crucifixion (Matt. 27:33–50; Mark 15:22–37; Luke 23:33–46; John 19:16–30). Crucifixion was a death of unimaginable horror, bringing shame and humiliation to the victim and his family. Anyone hanging on a tree was considered cursed (Deut. 21:23; Gal. 3:13). Thus, especially in a Jewish society, anyone associated with a crucified person bore the shame of following one who was executed as a lowly slave and left as a cursed corpse. The apostle Paul referred to this shame of the cross when he stated, “I am not ashamed of the gospel” (Rom. 1:16).
Exalted Lord. Jesus had prophesied that he would rise again (Matt. 16:21; 17:9, 23; 20:19; 27:63; Mark 8:31; 9:9, 31; 10:34; Luke 9:22; 18:33; 24:7, 46). The testimony of the Synoptics is that the resurrection of Jesus Christ indeed occurred on the third day, Christ having died on Friday (Mark 15:42–45; Luke 23:52–54; John 19:30–33) and risen again on Sunday (Matt. 28:1–7; Mark 16:2–7; Luke 24:1–7; John 20:1–16). The resurrected Jesus was witnessed by the women (Matt. 28:8–9), the eleven disciples (Matt. 28:16–17; Luke 24:36–43), and travelers on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:31–32). According to Paul, he appeared to as many as five hundred others (1 Cor. 15:6). He appeared in bodily form, spoke, showed his scars, and ate (Luke 24:39–43; John 20:27; Acts 1:4). After forty postresurrection days, Jesus ascended into the heavenly realm (Acts 1:9).
As much as Jesus’ death was the epitome of shame, his victory over death was his ultimate exaltation (Phil. 2:5–11). At Pentecost, Peter proclaimed that in the resurrection God fulfilled OT promises (Ps. 16:10) by raising his Son from the grave (Acts 2:30–31). Furthermore, Christ provided freedom from the law through his resurrection (Rom. 5:13–14), God’s approval of his life and work (Phil. 2:8–9), and God’s designation of him as Lord over all the earth, the living and the dead (Acts 17:30–31; Phil. 2:10; Heb. 1:3), and over all his enemies (Eph. 1:20–23).
Jesus’ exaltation commenced the beginning of forgiveness and justification (Luke 24:46–47; Acts 13:30–39; Rom. 4:25) and his intercession for the people of God (Rom. 8:34). His ascension signaled the coming of the Holy Spirit as comforter and teacher (John 14:26; Acts 2:33) and was accompanied by the promise of his return in glory (Luke 24:51), at which time he will render judgment (Matt. 19:28; 24:31; Rev. 20:11–15) and establish his eternal kingdom (1 Cor. 15:24; 2 Tim. 4:1; Rev. 11:15; 22:5).
Jesus’ Purpose and Community
In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah, who preaches the good news of the kingdom, urging people to repent (4:17–23). Repentance and belief allow one to enter the kingdom. The call into the kingdom is a call into a new covenant, one made in Jesus’ blood (26:28).
In the prologue to the Gospel of Mark, the narrator reveals the identity of Jesus (1:1). Jesus is presented as the one who brings good tidings of salvation (cf. Isa. 40:9; 52:7; 61:1). The centrality of the gospel, the good news (Mark 1:14–15), is evident.
Luke likewise presents the preaching of the good news as a main purpose of Jesus’ ministry (4:43). The content of this good news is the kingdom of God (4:43; 8:1; 16:16). When the disciples of John the Baptist asked Jesus if he was the one who was to come (7:20), Jesus answered, “Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor” (7:22). The kingdom of God, as presented in Luke, brings freedom for the prisoners, recovery of sight for the blind, and release for the oppressed (4:18). Jesus’ healings and exorcisms announce the coming kingdom of God already present in the ministry of Jesus (4:40–44; 6:18–20; 8:1–2; 9:2; 10:8–9).
In the Gospel of John, Jesus testifies to the good news by way of signs throughout his ministry. These signs point to Jesus’ glory, his identity, and the significance of his ministry. Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, who offers eternal and abundant life. This abundant life is lived out in community.
In the Gospel of John, the disciples of Jesus represent the community of God (17:21). The disciples did not belong to the world, but they continued to live in the world (17:14–16). Throughout his ministry, Jesus called his disciples to follow him. This was a call to loyalty (Matt. 10:32–40; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26), a call to the family of God (Matt. 12:48–50; Mark 3:33–35). Jesus’ declaration “On this rock I will build my church” (Matt. 16:18) was preceded by the call to community. Jesus’ presence as the head of the community was replaced by the promised Spirit (John 14:16–18).
Jesus’ ministry continued in the community of Jesus’ followers, God’s family—the church. Entrance into the community was obtained by adopting the values of the kingdom, belief, and through the initiation rite of baptism (Matt. 10:37–39; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26, 57–62; John 1:12; 3:16; 10:27–29; Acts 2:38; 16:31–33; 17:30; Rom. 10:9).
The Quests for the Historical Jesus
The quest for the historical Jesus, or seeking who Jesus was from a historical perspective, is a modern phenomenon deemed necessary by scholars who claim that the NT Gospels were written long after Jesus’ death and were heavily influenced by the post-Easter understanding of the church.
The beginning of this quest is often dated to 1770, when the lecture notes of Hermann Samuel Reimarus were published posthumously. Reimarus had launched an inquiry into the identity of Jesus that rejected as inauthentic all supernatural elements in the Gospels. He concluded that the disciples invented Jesus’ miracles, prophecies, ritualistic religion, and resurrection. Reimarus’s conclusions were not widely accepted, but they set off a flurry of rationalistic research into the historical Jesus that continued throughout the nineteenth century. This became known as the “first quest” for the historical Jesus.
In 1906 German theologian Albert Schweit-zer published The Quest of the Historical Jesus (German title: Von Reimarus zu Wrede: Eine Geschichte der Leben-Jesu-Forschung), a scathing indictment of the first quest. Schweitzer’s work showed that nineteenth-century researchers re-created Jesus in their own image, transforming the historical Jesus into a modern philanthropist preaching an inoffensive message of love and brotherhood. Schweitzer’s conclusions marked the beginning of the end for this first quest. Schweitzer himself concluded that the historical Jesus was an eschatological prophet whose purposes failed during his last days in Jerusalem.
With the demise of the first quest, some NT scholars, such as Rudolf Bultmann, rejected any claim to being able to discover the historical Jesus. This trend continued until 1953, when some of Bultmann’s former students launched what has come to be known as the “new quest” for the historical Jesus (1953–c. 1970). This quest created new interest in the historical Jesus but was still dominated by the view that the portrait of Jesus in the Gospels is largely a creation of the church in a post-Easter setting.
As the rebuilding years of the post–World War II era waned and scholars started to reap academic fruit from major archaeological finds such as the DSS, research on the historical Jesus moved on to what has been called the “third quest.” This quest seeks especially to research and understand Jesus in his social and cultural setting.
Rabbinic commentary on the Hebrew Bible, either the text or a biblical event. “Midrash” (pl. “midrashim”) is a noun derived from the verb darash, meaning “to seek” or “to inquire.” “Midrash” can refer to the commentary on a single passage, such as a midrash on Gen. 1, or to a whole collection of midrashim, such as Genesis Rabbah. It may also refer to the process by which ancient rabbis interpreted Scripture. Rabbinic midrash seeks theological and halakic answers to contemporary concerns; thus, it is concerned with the application of Scripture to various aspects of life.
Rabbinic Midrash
Midrash uses Scripture to interpret Scripture and uses the Bible as a whole, unified book. Although context is not ignored altogether, mid-rash juxtaposes verses from throughout the Hebrew Bible in order to illuminate a given text or illustrate a point. Verses are strung together to elucidate a theme that the text suggests either implicitly or explicitly. Within this system of Scripture interpreting Scripture, the Pentateuch holds pride of place as the center of the biblical witness. In rabbinic midrash, often the Prophets and the Writings do not have independent voices separate from the Pentateuch but serve a supporting role.
At times, the juxtaposition of verses that occur in midrash seems arbitrary, but this is not the case. A set of midrashic rules, middot, governs how the verses of Scripture are to be used and how argumentation is to be formed. Over time, the rules became more elaborate, but their earliest statement is attributed to the pre–AD 70 rabbi Hillel in the Babylonian Talmud. He lists seven rules:
1. Argument from the less significant to more significant, and vice versa.
2. Argument by analogy when Scripture uses identical expressions.
3. A statement in one verse applies to all topically related verses.
4. Same as the principle in three, but derived from two verses, not just one.
5. Argument from general to particular, and vice versa.
6. Argument from a similar expression found in another passage.
7. Argument from context.
The rabbinic rules of scriptural interpretation are similar to rules for Hellenistic rhetoric and Roman legal argument and thus reflect Hellenistic and Roman influence.
Rabbinic midrash can be characterized broadly as halakic (developing rules for Sabbath observance, ritual purity, sacrifice, etc.) and haggadic (theological, ethical, and whatever does not fall under halakic). Some bodies of rabbinic midrash explore a book of the Bible more or less verse by verse, and others are topical. Some midrashic works are homiletical in nature; they preserve sermon material from synagogue services.
Midrash in the Bible
Although the large compilations of mid-rash are rabbinic and are later than the Bible, midrashic material is also found much earlier. Midrash has its origins in the Bible. The clearest example is Chronicles, which in many respects is a midrash on Samuel and Kings. At Qumran, we find literature that can be classified as rewritten Scripture, such as the Temple Scroll, the book of Jubilees, and the Genesis Apocryphon, which have midrashic features. The Qumran Pesharim are also midrashic, although of a less sophisticated nature than the later rabbinic midrash, and seem to employ the middot.
The NT contains examples of midrashic material. Jesus’ teaching in the Gospels includes some midrashic material. In Luke 4:16–21, Jesus reads from the scroll of Isaiah and interprets the passage as applying to himself. Jesus is delivering a petikhah, a short exposition on a biblical text outside the main synagogue sermon. When debating with the Sadducees over the resurrection, Jesus gives midrashic comment to Exod. 3:6 (Luke 20:27–40). The apostle Paul engages in midrash even more explicitly: for example, he applies Deut. 25:4, concerning not muzzling an ox while it is threshing grain, to the idea that a minister is worthy of being paid for work (1 Cor. 9:9; 1 Tim. 5:18). Paul is arguing from the lesser to the greater in his application of Torah to his contemporary situation.
The most extended midrash in the NT is the book of Hebrews. For example, in Heb. 1–2 the writer applies numerous quotations from the Psalter to Jesus in order to show how he is greater than the angels. In Heb. 4 the writer, through an interpretation of Ps. 95:11, does a midrash on entering into God’s rest, by which he applies God’s resting from his work (Gen. 2:2) to Christians’ entering that rest because of the unbelief of Israel in the wilderness. It appears that the author is forming an argument by analogy in relating Gen. 2:2 and Ps. 95:11.
It can be demonstrated that Jews employed midrashic techniques in their interpretation of Scriptures centuries before the earliest rabbinic midrash compilations were created. We see these techniques in Qumran Pesharim, Philo’s writings, and in the NT. The rabbis made use of long-established interpretive techniques and made them more sophisticated. The difference between Qumranite, ancient Christian, and rabbinic interpretation of Scripture was one of emphasis. For the Qumranites, all Scripture had to speak of their community, which was the true, believing community in the end of days. For the Christians, all Scripture had to speak of Jesus and the salvation that he brought. For the rabbis, all Scripture upheld Torah and obedience to that Torah as the center of Jewish life.
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.
Terminology
The biblical writers describe miracles with various terms, such as “signs,” “wonders,” and “miracles” (or “powers”), which can carry various connotations. As the word “sign” suggests, divine miracles are significant and should cause us to think more deeply about God in a way that goes beyond mere amazement or curiosity (Exod. 4:30–31; John 2:11). Not all of God’s signs are miraculous. Some are given as part of his ordering of the natural world (Gen. 1:14) or as an encouragement to faith that God will do as he has said (e.g., the rainbow in Gen. 9:8–17; the blood of the Passover lamb in Exod. 12:13). (See also Sign.)
Often coupled with signs are “wonders” (Jer. 32:21; John 4:48; 2 Cor. 12:12). If the depiction of miracles as “signs” indicates an appeal to the intellect, that of “wonders” points to the emotions. Miracles evoke astonishment and awe at the one who did them.
The NT word “miracle” carries the meaning of power and therefore points to the supernatural source of these events (Luke 10:13; Acts 8:13).
Miracles in the Bible
Old Testament. 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).
New Testament. 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.
Miracles and faith. 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).
The function of miracles. Miracle accounts function in a symbolic and prophetic manner. Hence, the cursing of the fig tree was prophetic of the coming judgment (Mark 11:12–21). The unusual two-stage healing of the blind man of Bethsaida symbolized Peter’s incomplete understanding of Jesus’ messiahship (Mark 8:22–33).
The miraculous element of Jesus’ ministry carries an eschatological significance, pointing to the order of things in the age to come. For example, the nature miracles (Mark 4:35–41) look forward to the redemption of creation itself, which is presently subject to frustration and decay (Rom. 8:20–21); the healing miracles point to a day when disease and deformity will be abolished (Rev. 21:4); and miracles in which the dead are raised to life anticipate a time when death itself will be no more (Rev. 20:14; 21:4). From this perspective, the miracles are a gracious foretaste of a far more glorious future.
The founder of what became known as the movement of Jesus followers or Christianity. For Christian believers, Jesus Christ embodies the personal and supernatural intervention of God in human history.
Introduction
Name. Early Christians combined the name “Jesus” with the title “Christ” (Acts 5:42; NIV: “Messiah”). The name “Jesus,” from the Hebrew Yehoshua or Yeshua, was a common male name in first-century Judaism. The title “Christ” is from the Greek christos, a translation of the Hebrew mashiakh (“anointed one, messiah”). Christians eventually were named after Jesus’ title (Acts 11:26). During the ministry of Jesus, Peter was the first disciple to recognize Jesus as the Messiah (Matt. 16:16; Mark 9:29; Luke 9:20).
Sources. From the viewpoint of Christianity, the life and ministry of Jesus constitute the turning point in human history. From a historical perspective, ample early source materials would be expected. Indeed, both Christian and non-Christian first-century and early second-century literary sources are extant, but they are few in number. In part, this low incidence is due to society’s initial resistance to the Jesus followers’ movement. The ancient Roman historian Tacitus called Christianity “a superstition,” since its beliefs did not fit with the culture’s prevailing worldview and thus were considered antisocial. Early literary sources therefore are either in-group documents or allusions in non-Christian sources.
The NT Gospels are the principal sources for the life and ministry of Jesus. They consist of Matthew, Mark, Luke (the Synoptic Gospels), and John. Most scholars adhere to the so-called Four Source Hypothesis. In this theory, Mark was written first and was used as a source by Matthew and Luke, who also used the sayings source Q (from German Quelle, meaning “source”) as well as their own individual sources M (Matthew) and L (Luke). John used additional sources.
The early church tried to put together singular accounts, so-called Gospel harmonies, of the life of Jesus. The Gospel of the Ebionites represents one such attempt based on the Synoptic Gospels. Another harmony, the Diatessaron, based on all four Gospels, was produced around AD 170 by Tatian. Additional source materials concerning the life of Christ are provided in the NT in texts such as Acts, the Pauline Epistles, the General Epistles, and the Revelation of John. Paul wrote to the Galatians, “But when the time had fully come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under law” (Gal. 4:4). The first narrative about Jesus by the Christian community was a passion narrative, the account of his death and resurrection. The first extant references to this tradition are found in Paul’s letters (1 Cor. 2:2; Gal. 3:1). The resurrection was recognized from the beginning as the cornerstone of the Christian faith (1 Cor. 15:13–14).
Among non-Christian sources, the earliest reference to Jesus is found in a letter written circa AD 112 by Pliny the Younger, the Roman governor of Bithynia-Pontus (Ep. 10.96). The Roman historian Tacitus mentions Christians and Jesus around AD 115 in his famous work about the history of Rome (Ann. 15.44). Another Roman historian, Suetonius, wrote around the same time concerning unrest among the Jews in Rome because of a certain “Chrestos” (Claud. 25.4). Some scholars conclude that “Chrestos” is a misspelling of “Christos,” a reference to Jesus.
The Jewish author Josephus (first century AD) mentions Jesus in a story about the Jewish high priest Ananus and James the brother of Jesus (Ant. 20.200). A controversial reference to Jesus appears in a different part of the same work, where Josephus affirms that Jesus is the Messiah and that he rose from the dead (Ant. 18.63–64). The majority of scholars consider this passage to be authentic but heavily edited by later Christian copyists. Another Jewish source, the Talmud, also mentions Jesus in several places, but these references are very late and of little historical value.
Noncanonical Gospels that mention Jesus include, for example, the Infancy Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Thomas, the Gospel of Peter, the Gospel of James, the Gospel of Judas Iscariot, the Gospel of the Hebrews, the Egerton Gospel, and the Gospel of Judas. Although some of these may contain an occasional authentic saying or event, for the most part they are late and unreliable.
Jesus’ Life
Birth and childhood. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke record Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem during the reign of Herod the Great (Matt. 2:1; Luke 2:4, 11). Jesus was probably born between 6 and 4 BC, shortly before Herod’s death (Matt. 2:19). Both Matthew and Luke record the miracle of a virginal conception made possible by the Holy Spirit (Matt. 1:18; Luke 1:35). Luke mentions a census under the Syrian governor Quirinius that was responsible for Jesus’ birth taking place in Bethlehem (2:1–5). Both the census and the governorship at the time of the birth of Jesus have been questioned by scholars. Unfortunately, there is not enough extrabiblical evidence to either confirm or disprove these events, so their veracity must be determined on the basis of one’s view regarding the general reliability of the Gospel tradition.
On the eighth day after his birth, Jesus was circumcised, in keeping with the Jewish law, at which time he officially was named “Jesus” (Luke 2:21). He spent his growing years in Nazareth, in the home of his parents, Joseph and Mary (2:40). Of the NT Gospels, the Gospel of Luke contains the only brief portrayal of Jesus’ growth in strength, wisdom, and favor with God and people (2:40, 52). Luke also contains the only account of Jesus as a young boy (2:41–49).
Jesus was born in a lower socioeconomic setting. His parents offered a temple sacrifice appropriate for those who could not afford to sacrifice a sheep (Luke 2:22–24; cf. Lev. 12:8). Joseph, Jesus’ earthly father, was a carpenter or an artisan in wood, stone, or metal (Matt. 13:55). From a geographical perspective, Nazareth was not a prominent place for settling, since it lacked fertile ground. Jesus’ disciple Nathanael expressed an apparently common first-century sentiment concerning Nazareth: “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” (John 1:46).
Jesus was also born in a context of scandal. Questions of illegitimacy were surely raised, since his mother Mary was discovered to be pregnant before her marriage to Joseph. According to Matthew, only the intervention of an angel convinced Joseph not to break his betrothal (Matt. 1:18–24). Jesus’ birth took place in Bethlehem, far from his parents’ home in Nazareth. According to kinship hospitality customs, Joseph and Mary would have expected to stay with distant relatives in Bethlehem. It is likely that they were unwelcome because of Jesus’ status as an illegitimate child; thus Mary had to give birth elsewhere and place the infant Jesus in a feeding trough (Luke 2:7). A similar response was seen years later in Nazareth when Jesus was identified as “Mary’s son” (Mark 6:3) rather than through his paternal line, thereby shaming him as one who was born an illegitimate child. Jesus was likewise rejected at the end of his life as the crowds cried, “Crucify him!” (Matt. 27:22–23; Mark 15:13–14; Luke 23:21; John 19:6, 15). When Jesus was arrested, most of his followers fled (Matt. 26:56; Mark 14:50–52), and a core disciple, Peter, vehemently denied knowing him (Matt. 26:69–74; Mark 14:66–71; Luke 22:55–60; John 18:15–17, 25–27). His own siblings did not believe in him (John 7:5) and were evidently ashamed of his fate, since from the cross Jesus placed the care of his mother into the hands of “the disciple whom he loved” (19:26–27) rather than the next brother in line, as was customary.
Baptism, temptation, and start of ministry. After Jesus was baptized by the prophet John the Baptist (Luke 3:21–22), God affirmed his pleasure with him by referring to him as his Son, whom he loved (Matt. 3:17; Mark 1:11; Luke 3:22). Jesus’ baptism did not launch him into fame and instant ministry success; instead, Jesus was led by the Spirit into the wilderness, where he was tempted for forty days (Matt. 4:1–11; Mark 1:12–13; Luke 4:1–13). Mark stresses that the temptations immediately followed the baptism. Matthew and Luke identify three specific temptations by the devil, though their order for the last two is reversed. Both Matthew and Luke agree that Jesus was tempted to turn stones into bread, expect divine intervention after jumping off the temple portico, and receive all the world’s kingdoms for worshiping the devil. Jesus resisted all temptation, quoting Scripture in response.
Matthew and Mark record that Jesus began his ministry in Capernaum in Galilee, after the arrest of John the Baptist (Matt. 4:12–13; Mark 1:14). Luke says that Jesus started his ministry at about thirty years of age (3:23). This may be meant to indicate full maturity or perhaps correlate this age with the onset of the service of the Levites in the temple (cf. Num. 4:3). John narrates the beginning of Jesus’ ministry by focusing on the calling of the disciples and the sign performed at a wedding at Cana (1:35–2:11).
Jesus’ public ministry: chronology. Jesus’ ministry started in Galilee, probably around AD 27/28, and ended with his death around AD 30 in Jerusalem. The temple had been forty-six years in construction (generally interpreted as the temple itself and the wider temple complex) when Jesus drove out the money changers (John 2:20). According to Josephus, the rebuilding and expansion of the second temple had started in 20/19 BC, during the eighteenth year of Herod’s reign (Ant. 15.380). The ministry of John the Baptist had commenced in the fifteenth year of Tiberius (Luke 3:1–2), who had become a coregent in AD 11/12. From these dates of the start of the temple building and the correlation of the reign of Tiberius to John the Baptist’s ministry, the onset of Jesus’ ministry can probably be dated to AD 27/28.
The Gospel of John mentions three Passovers and another unnamed feast in John 5:1. The length of Jesus’ ministry thus extended over three or four Passovers, equaling about three or three and a half years. Passover, which took place on the fifteenth of Nisan, came on a Friday in AD 30 and 33. The year of Jesus’ death was therefore probably AD 30.
Jesus’ ministry years may be divided broadly into his Galilean and his Judean ministries. The Synoptic Gospels describe the ministry in Galilee from various angles but converge again as Jesus enters Judea.
Galilean ministry. The early stages of Jesus’ ministry centered in and around Galilee. Jesus presented the good news and proclaimed that the kingdom of God was near. Matthew focuses on the fulfillment of prophecy (Matt. 4:13–17). Luke records Jesus’ first teaching in his hometown, Nazareth, as paradigmatic (Luke 4:16–30); the text that Jesus quoted, Isa. 61:1–2, set the stage for his calling to serve and revealed a trajectory of rejection and suffering.
All Gospels record Jesus’ gathering of disciples early in his Galilean ministry (Matt. 4:18–22; Mark 1:16–20; Luke 5:1–11; John 1:35–51). The formal call and commissioning of the Twelve who would become Jesus’ closest followers is recorded in different parts of the Gospels (Matt. 10:1–4; Mark 3:13–19; Luke 6:12–16). A key event in the early ministry is the Sermon on the Mount/Plain (Matt. 5:1–7:29; Luke 6:20–49). John focuses on Jesus’ signs and miracles, in particular in the early parts of his ministry, whereas the Synoptics focus on healings and exorcisms.
During Jesus’ Galilean ministry, onlookers struggled with his identity. However, evil spirits knew him to be of supreme authority (Mark 3:11). Jesus was criticized by outsiders and by his own family (3:21). The scribes from Jerusalem identified him as a partner of Beelzebul (3:22). Amid these situations of social conflict, Jesus told parables that couched his ministry in the context of a growing kingdom of God. This kingdom would miraculously spring from humble beginnings (4:1–32).
The Synoptics present Jesus’ early Galilean ministry as successful. No challenge or ministry need superseded Jesus’ authority or ability: he calmed a storm (Mark 4:35–39), exorcized many demons (Mark 5:1–13), raised the dead (Mark 5:35–42), fed five thousand (Mark 6:30–44), and walked on water (Mark 6:48–49).
In the later part of his ministry in Galilee, Jesus often withdrew and traveled to the north and the east. The Gospel narratives are not written with a focus on chronology. However, only brief returns to Galilee appear to have taken place prior to Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem. As people followed Jesus, faith was praised and fear resolved. Jerusalem’s religious leaders traveled to Galilee, where they leveled accusations and charged Jesus’ disciples with lacking ritual purity (Mark 7:1–5). Jesus shamed the Pharisees by pointing out their dishonorable treatment of parents (7:11–13). The Pharisees challenged his legitimacy by demanding a sign (8:11). Jesus refused them signs but agreed with Peter, who confessed, “You are the Messiah” (8:29). Jesus did provide the disciples a sign: his transfiguration (9:2–8).
Jesus withdrew from Galilee to Tyre and Sidon, where a Syrophoenician woman requested healing for her daughter. Jesus replied, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel” (Matt. 15:24). Galileans had long resented the Syrian provincial leadership partiality that allotted governmental funds in ways that made the Jews receive mere “crumbs.” Consequently, when the woman replied, “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table,” Jesus applauded her faith (Matt. 15:27–28). Healing a deaf-mute man in the Decapolis provided another example of Jesus’ ministry in Gentile territory (Mark 7:31–37). Peter’s confession of Jesus as the Christ took place during Jesus’ travel to Caesarea Philippi, a well-known Gentile territory. The city was the ancient center of worship of the Hellenistic god Pan.
Judean ministry. Luke records a geographic turning point in Jesus’ ministry as he resolutely set out for Jerusalem, a direction that eventually led to his death (Luke 9:51). Luke divides the journey to Jerusalem into three phases (9:51–13:21; 13:22–17:10; 17:11–19:27). The opening verses of phase one emphasize a prophetic element of the journey. Jesus viewed his ministry in Jerusalem as his mission, and the demands on discipleship intensified as Jesus approached Jerusalem (Matt. 20:17–19, 26–28; Mark 10:38–39, 43–45; Luke 14:25–35). Luke presents the second phase of the journey toward Jerusalem with a focus on conversations regarding salvation and judgment (Luke 13:22–30). In the third and final phase of the journey, the advent of the kingdom and the final judgment are the main themes (17:20–37; 19:11–27).
Social conflicts with religious leaders increased throughout Jesus’ ministry. These conflicts led to lively challenge-riposte interactions concerning the Pharisaic schools of Shammai and Hillel (Matt. 19:1–12; Mark 10:1–12). Likewise, socioeconomic feathers were ruffled as Jesus welcomed young children, who had little value in society (Matt. 19:13–15; Mark 10:13–16; Luke 18:15–17).
Passion Week, death, and resurrection. Each of the Gospels records Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem with the crowds extending him a royal welcome (Matt. 21:4–9; Mark 11:7–10; Luke 19:35–38; John 12:12–15). Luke describes Jesus’ ministry in Jerusalem as a time during which Jesus taught in the temple as Israel’s Messiah (19:45–21:38).
In Jerusalem, Jesus cleansed the temple of profiteering (Mark 11:15–17). Mark describes the religious leaders as fearing Jesus because the whole crowd was amazed at his teaching, and so they “began looking for a way to kill him” (11:18). Dismayed, each segment of Jerusalem’s temple leadership inquired about Jesus’ authority (11:27–33). Jesus replied with cunning questions (12:16, 35–36), stories (12:1–12), denunciation (12:38–44), and a prediction of Jerusalem’s own destruction (13:1–31). One of Jesus’ own disciples, Judas Iscariot, provided the temple leaders the opportunity for Jesus’ arrest (14:10–11).
At the Last Supper, Jesus instituted a new Passover, defining a new covenant grounded in his sufferings (Matt. 26:17–18, 26–29; Mark 14:16–25; Luke 22:14–20). He again warned the disciples of his betrayal and arrest (Matt. 26:21–25, 31; Mark 14:27–31; Luke 22:21–23; John 13:21–30), and later he prayed for the disciples (John 17:1–26) and prayed in agony and submissiveness in the garden of Gethsemane (Matt. 26:36–42; Mark 14:32–42; Luke 22:39–42). His arrest, trial, crucifixion, death, and resurrection followed (Matt. 26:46–28:15; Mark 14:43–16:8; Luke 22:47–24:9; John 18:1–20:18). Jesus finally commissioned his disciples to continue his mission by making disciples of all the nations (Matt. 28:18–20; Acts 1:8) and ascended to heaven with the promise that he will one day return (Luke 24:50–53; Acts 1:9–11).
The Identity of Jesus Christ
Various aspects of Jesus’ identity are stressed in the four NT Gospels, depending on their target audiences. In the Gospels the witnesses to Jesus’ ministry are portrayed as constantly questioning and examining his identity (Matt. 11:2–5; 12:24; 26:63; 27:11; Mark 3:22; 8:11; 11:28; 14:61; Luke 7:18–20; 11:15; 22:67, 70; 23:39; John 7:20, 25–27; 18:37). Only beings of the spiritual realm are certain of his divinity (Mark 1:34; 3:11; Luke 4:41). At Jesus’ baptism, God referred to him as his Son, whom he loved (Matt. 3:17; Mark 1:11; Luke 3:22). Likewise, when Jesus was transfigured in the presence of Peter, James, and John, a voice affirmed, “This is my Son, whom I love” (Matt. 17:5; Mark 9:7). At the moment of his death, the questioning of Jesus’ identity culminated in a confession by a Roman centurion and other guards: “Surely he was the Son of God!” (Matt. 27:54; cf. Mark 15:39).
Miracle worker. In the first-century setting, folk healers and miracle workers were part of the fabric of society. Jesus, however, performed signs and miracles in order to demonstrate the authority of the kingdom of God over various realms: disease, illness, the spiritual world, nature, and even future events. Especially in the Gospel of John, Jesus’ signs and miracles are used to show his authority and thus his identity.
No challenge superseded Jesus’ authority. Among his ample miracles and signs, he changed water into wine (John 2:7–9), calmed a storm in the sea (Matt. 8:23–27; Mark 4:35–39; Luke 8:22–25), exorcized demons (Matt. 9:32–34; Mark 5:1–13; Luke 9:42–43), healed the sick (Mark 1:40–44), raised the dead (Matt. 9:23–25; Mark 5:35–42; Luke 7:1–16; 8:49–54; John 11:17, 38–44), performed miraculous feedings (Matt. 14:17–21; 15:34–38; Mark 6:30–44; 8:5–9; Luke 9:10–17; John 6:8–13), and walked on water (Matt. 14:25–26; Mark 6:48–49; John 6:19).
The Pharisees requested miracles as evidence of his authority (Mark 8:11–12). Jesus refused, claiming that a wicked and adulterous generation asks for a miraculous sign (Matt. 12:38–39; 16:1–4). The only sign that he would give was the sign of Jonah—his death and resurrection three days later—a personal sacrifice, taking upon himself the judgment of the world (Matt. 12:39–41).
Rabbi/teacher. Jesus’ teaching style was similar to other first-century rabbis or Pharisees (Mark 9:5; 10:51; John 1:38; 3:2). What distinguished him was that he spoke with great personal authority (Matt. 5:22, 28, 32, 39, 44; Mark 1:22). Like other rabbis of his day, Jesus gathered disciples. He called these men to observe his lifestyle and to join him in his ministry of teaching, healing, and exorcism (Matt. 10:1–4; Mark 3:13–19; Luke 6:12–16).
Jesus used a variety of teaching methods. He frequently spoke in parables (Matt. 6:24; 13:24–52; 18:10–14, 23–35; 21:28–22:14; 24:32–36, 45–51; 25:14–30; Mark 4:1–34; 12:1–12; 13:28–34; Luke 8:4–18; 12:41–46; 13:18–21; 14:15–24; 15:1–16:15, 19–31; 18:1–14; 19:11–27; 20:9–19; 21:29–33), used figures of speech (John 10:9), hyperbole (Matt. 19:24; Mark 10:25; Luke 18:25), argumentation (Matt. 26:11), object lessons (Matt. 24:32), frequent repetition (Matt. 13:44–47; Luke 13:18–21), practical examples, and personal guidance.
Major themes in Jesus’ teaching include the kingdom of God, the cost of discipleship, internal righteousness, the end of the age, his identity, his mission, and his approaching death. In his teachings, observance of Torah was given new context and meaning because God’s kingdom had “come near” (Matt. 3:2). Jesus had come to fulfill the law (Matt. 5:17).
Jesus’ teaching ministry often took place amid social conflict. These conflicts were couched in so-called challenge-riposte interactions in which the honor status of those involved was at stake. Jesus used these interactions as teachable moments. When questioned, Jesus gave replies that reveal omniscience or intimate knowledge of God’s will, especially in the Gospel of John. In the Synoptic Gospels, Jesus’ answers are both ethical and practical in nature. The Synoptics portray Jesus as challenged repeatedly with accusations of violating customs specified in the Jewish law. Jesus’ answers to such accusations often echoed the essence of 1 Sam. 15:22, “To obey is better than sacrifice,” phrased by Jesus as “I desire mercy, not sacrifice” (Matt. 9:13; 12:7). An overall “better than” ethic was common in Jesus’ public teaching.
The Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5–7) contains a “better than” ethic in which internal obedience is better than mere outward obedience. For example, Jesus said that anger without cause is equal to murder (Matt. 5:21–22), that looking at a woman lustfully amounts to adultery (Matt. 5:28), and that instead of revenging wrongs one must reciprocate with love (Matt. 5:38–48). Jesus valued compassion above traditions and customs, even those contained within the OT law. He desired internal obedience above the letter of the law.
Jesus’ teachings found their authority in the reality of God’s imminent kingdom (Matt. 3:2; 10:7; Mark 1:15; Luke 10:9), necessitating repentance (Matt. 3:2), belief (Mark 1:15), dependence (Matt. 18:3–5; Mark 10:15), and loyalty to a new community—the family of Jesus followers (Mark 3:34; 10:29–30). Jesus urged, “Seek first [God’s] kingdom and his righteousness” (Matt. 6:33). Preaching with such urgency was common among prophetic teachers of the intertestamental period. Jesus, however, had his own grounds for urgency. He held that God deeply valued all humans (Matt. 10:31) and would bring judgment swiftly (Matt. 25:31–46).
Examples of a “greater good” ethic in the Synoptics include the occasions when Jesus ate with sinners (Mark 2:16–17). Jesus used an aphorism in response to accusations about his associations with sinners, saying, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (Mark 2:17). He advocated harvesting and healing on the Sabbath (Mark 2:23–28; 3:1–6), and when he was accused of breaking the law, he pointed to an OT exception (1 Sam. 21:1–6) to declare compassion appropriate for the Sabbath. Jesus also applied the “greater good” ethic in the case of divorce, since women suffered the societal stigma of adultery and commonly became outcasts following divorce (Matt. 19:8–9; Mark 10:5–9).
Jesus’ kingdom teachings were simultaneously spiritual, ethical, and eschatological in application. The teachings were aimed at internal transformation (Matt. 5:3–9; 18:3; Mark 10:15) and spurring on love (Matt. 5:44; 7:21). The Spirit of the Lord had called Jesus to bless the hurting ones as they aspired to a godly character. Jesus taught, “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:48), and “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:36). The “blessed” ones in Jesus’ teachings are poor of spirit, peace driven, mournful, and hungry for righteousness, consumed with emulating godly character.
Some scholars believe that Jesus promoted an “interim ethic” for the kingdom, intended only for a short period prior to the end of time. However, he was explicit regarding the longevity of his teachings: “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away” (Matt. 24:35; Luke 16:17).
Messiah. The concept of an anointed one, a messiah, who would restore the glories of David’s kingdom and bring political stability was common in Jewish expectation. Both before and after the Babylonian captivity, many Jews longed for one who would bring peace and protection. Israel’s prophets had spoken of a coming deliverer, one who would restore David’s kingdom and reign in justice and righteousness (2 Sam. 7:11–16; Isa. 9:1–7; 11:1–16; Jer. 23:5–6; 33:15–16; Ezek. 37:25; Dan. 2:44; Mic. 5:2; Zech. 9:9). Isaiah’s description of the servant (Isa. 53) whose suffering healed the nation provided a slightly different angle of expectation in terms of a deliverer.
Jesus’ authority and popularity as a miracle worker called up messianic images in first-century Jewish minds. On several occasions hearers called him “Son of David,” hoping for the Messiah (Matt. 12:23; 21:9). Simon Peter was the first follower who confessed Jesus as the Christ, the “Messiah” (Matt. 16:16; Mark 8:29). In line with Isaiah’s model of the Suffering Servant, Jesus focused not on political ends but rather on spiritual regeneration through his own sacrificial death (Mark 10:45).
Eschatological prophet. Many scholars claim that Jesus is best understood as a Jewish apocalypticist, an eschatological prophet who expected God to intervene in history, destroy the wicked, and bring in the kingdom of God. Central in this understanding are Jesus’ prophecies concerning the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem (Matt. 24:1–2, 15–22; Mark 13:1; Luke 21:5–24; John 2:19; Acts 6:14). In addition, it is noted that Jesus had twelve disciples, representative of the twelve tribes of Israel (Matt. 19:2–28; Luke 22:23–30). Certain of Jesus’ parables, those with apocalyptic images of coming judgment, present Jesus as an eschatological prophet (Matt. 24:45–25:30; Luke 12:41–46; 19:11–27).
Suffering Son of God. Jesus’ first recorded teaching in a synagogue in Nazareth was paradigmatic (Luke 4:16–21). He attributed the reading, Isa. 61:1–2, to his personal calling to serve, and in doing so he revealed a trajectory of suffering. The Gospel of Mark likewise aptly portrays Jesus as the suffering Son of God. Jesus’ own teachings incorporated his upcoming suffering (Mark 8:31; 9:12–13, 31; 10:33–34). He summarized his mission by declaring, “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). His earthly career ended with a trial in Jerusalem consisting of both Roman and Jewish components (Matt. 26:57–68; 27:1–31; Mark 14:53–65; 15:1–20; Luke 22:54–23:25; John 18:19–24; 18:28–19:16). He was insulted, scourged, mocked, and crucified.
Jesus’ suffering culminated in his humiliating death by crucifixion (Matt. 27:33–50; Mark 15:22–37; Luke 23:33–46; John 19:16–30). Crucifixion was a death of unimaginable horror, bringing shame and humiliation to the victim and his family. Anyone hanging on a tree was considered cursed (Deut. 21:23; Gal. 3:13). Thus, especially in a Jewish society, anyone associated with a crucified person bore the shame of following one who was executed as a lowly slave and left as a cursed corpse. The apostle Paul referred to this shame of the cross when he stated, “I am not ashamed of the gospel” (Rom. 1:16).
Exalted Lord. Jesus had prophesied that he would rise again (Matt. 16:21; 17:9, 23; 20:19; 27:63; Mark 8:31; 9:9, 31; 10:34; Luke 9:22; 18:33; 24:7, 46). The testimony of the Synoptics is that the resurrection of Jesus Christ indeed occurred on the third day, Christ having died on Friday (Mark 15:42–45; Luke 23:52–54; John 19:30–33) and risen again on Sunday (Matt. 28:1–7; Mark 16:2–7; Luke 24:1–7; John 20:1–16). The resurrected Jesus was witnessed by the women (Matt. 28:8–9), the eleven disciples (Matt. 28:16–17; Luke 24:36–43), and travelers on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:31–32). According to Paul, he appeared to as many as five hundred others (1 Cor. 15:6). He appeared in bodily form, spoke, showed his scars, and ate (Luke 24:39–43; John 20:27; Acts 1:4). After forty postresurrection days, Jesus ascended into the heavenly realm (Acts 1:9).
As much as Jesus’ death was the epitome of shame, his victory over death was his ultimate exaltation (Phil. 2:5–11). At Pentecost, Peter proclaimed that in the resurrection God fulfilled OT promises (Ps. 16:10) by raising his Son from the grave (Acts 2:30–31). Furthermore, Christ provided freedom from the law through his resurrection (Rom. 5:13–14), God’s approval of his life and work (Phil. 2:8–9), and God’s designation of him as Lord over all the earth, the living and the dead (Acts 17:30–31; Phil. 2:10; Heb. 1:3), and over all his enemies (Eph. 1:20–23).
Jesus’ exaltation commenced the beginning of forgiveness and justification (Luke 24:46–47; Acts 13:30–39; Rom. 4:25) and his intercession for the people of God (Rom. 8:34). His ascension signaled the coming of the Holy Spirit as comforter and teacher (John 14:26; Acts 2:33) and was accompanied by the promise of his return in glory (Luke 24:51), at which time he will render judgment (Matt. 19:28; 24:31; Rev. 20:11–15) and establish his eternal kingdom (1 Cor. 15:24; 2 Tim. 4:1; Rev. 11:15; 22:5).
Jesus’ Purpose and Community
In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus is the long-awaited Messiah, who preaches the good news of the kingdom, urging people to repent (4:17–23). Repentance and belief allow one to enter the kingdom. The call into the kingdom is a call into a new covenant, one made in Jesus’ blood (26:28).
In the prologue to the Gospel of Mark, the narrator reveals the identity of Jesus (1:1). Jesus is presented as the one who brings good tidings of salvation (cf. Isa. 40:9; 52:7; 61:1). The centrality of the gospel, the good news (Mark 1:14–15), is evident.
Luke likewise presents the preaching of the good news as a main purpose of Jesus’ ministry (4:43). The content of this good news is the kingdom of God (4:43; 8:1; 16:16). When the disciples of John the Baptist asked Jesus if he was the one who was to come (7:20), Jesus answered, “Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is proclaimed to the poor” (7:22). The kingdom of God, as presented in Luke, brings freedom for the prisoners, recovery of sight for the blind, and release for the oppressed (4:18). Jesus’ healings and exorcisms announce the coming kingdom of God already present in the ministry of Jesus (4:40–44; 6:18–20; 8:1–2; 9:2; 10:8–9).
In the Gospel of John, Jesus testifies to the good news by way of signs throughout his ministry. These signs point to Jesus’ glory, his identity, and the significance of his ministry. Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, who offers eternal and abundant life. This abundant life is lived out in community.
In the Gospel of John, the disciples of Jesus represent the community of God (17:21). The disciples did not belong to the world, but they continued to live in the world (17:14–16). Throughout his ministry, Jesus called his disciples to follow him. This was a call to loyalty (Matt. 10:32–40; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26), a call to the family of God (Matt. 12:48–50; Mark 3:33–35). Jesus’ declaration “On this rock I will build my church” (Matt. 16:18) was preceded by the call to community. Jesus’ presence as the head of the community was replaced by the promised Spirit (John 14:16–18).
Jesus’ ministry continued in the community of Jesus’ followers, God’s family—the church. Entrance into the community was obtained by adopting the values of the kingdom, belief, and through the initiation rite of baptism (Matt. 10:37–39; 16:24–26; Mark 8:34–38; Luke 9:23–26, 57–62; John 1:12; 3:16; 10:27–29; Acts 2:38; 16:31–33; 17:30; Rom. 10:9).
The Quests for the Historical Jesus
The quest for the historical Jesus, or seeking who Jesus was from a historical perspective, is a modern phenomenon deemed necessary by scholars who claim that the NT Gospels were written long after Jesus’ death and were heavily influenced by the post-Easter understanding of the church.
The beginning of this quest is often dated to 1770, when the lecture notes of Hermann Samuel Reimarus were published posthumously. Reimarus had launched an inquiry into the identity of Jesus that rejected as inauthentic all supernatural elements in the Gospels. He concluded that the disciples invented Jesus’ miracles, prophecies, ritualistic religion, and resurrection. Reimarus’s conclusions were not widely accepted, but they set off a flurry of rationalistic research into the historical Jesus that continued throughout the nineteenth century. This became known as the “first quest” for the historical Jesus.
In 1906 German theologian Albert Schweit-zer published The Quest of the Historical Jesus (German title: Von Reimarus zu Wrede: Eine Geschichte der Leben-Jesu-Forschung), a scathing indictment of the first quest. Schweitzer’s work showed that nineteenth-century researchers re-created Jesus in their own image, transforming the historical Jesus into a modern philanthropist preaching an inoffensive message of love and brotherhood. Schweitzer’s conclusions marked the beginning of the end for this first quest. Schweitzer himself concluded that the historical Jesus was an eschatological prophet whose purposes failed during his last days in Jerusalem.
With the demise of the first quest, some NT scholars, such as Rudolf Bultmann, rejected any claim to being able to discover the historical Jesus. This trend continued until 1953, when some of Bultmann’s former students launched what has come to be known as the “new quest” for the historical Jesus (1953–c. 1970). This quest created new interest in the historical Jesus but was still dominated by the view that the portrait of Jesus in the Gospels is largely a creation of the church in a post-Easter setting.
As the rebuilding years of the post–World War II era waned and scholars started to reap academic fruit from major archaeological finds such as the DSS, research on the historical Jesus moved on to what has been called the “third quest.” This quest seeks especially to research and understand Jesus in his social and cultural setting.
John and the author of Hebrews call Jesus Christ the “only begotten,” as traditionally translated (John 1:14, 18; 3:16, 18; 1 John 4:9; Heb. 11:17 KJV). The epithet, which is a single word in Greek (monogenēs), signifies being the only one of its kind within a specific relationship, and therefore, as we find in more recent translations, it may also be translated “one and only Son” (NIV) or “only son” (NRSV). Although the Bible claims that God has many human sons and daughters, in various senses he has but one “only begotten” Son, who must also be distinguished from the angels, who are also identified as sons of God (Heb. 1:1–14; see also Gen. 6:2, 4).
The author of Hebrews and Josephus, a first-century Jewish historian, present Isaac as Abraham’s “only begotten son” (Heb. 11:17 KJV; Josephus, Ant. 1.222). But Abraham has two sons, the other one being Ishmael, as the biblical narrative and Paul make clear (Gen. 16:11–16; Gal. 4:22). The difference is that Isaac was the only begotten between Abraham and his wife, Sarah, and the one for whom God decided to perpetuate the covenant that he originally made with Abraham (Gen. 12:1–3; 15:1–6; 17:19). Isaac is presented by early Christians as a type of Christ, and for Paul, he is a type of all the children of the new covenant (Gal. 4:21–31). Nevertheless, through Jesus’ fulfillment of God’s covenant obligations, many, including the descendants of Ishmael, will be called “sons of God” (Gen. 17:20; Hos. 1:10, cited in Rom. 9:26; Matt. 5:9; Rom. 8:14, 19; Gal. 3:26; 4:6).
Without compromising the uniqueness of his position, the “one and only” Son is happy to share his status before God the Father through faith, by grace, which brings the believer into union with his body, the church (Gal. 2:19–20; Eph. 2:1–10; Heb. 2:10). The conviction that Christ cannot be compared to human children or angels, parts of God’s creation, contributed to the belief of comparing Christ only with God, the uncreated.
Inheritance is an important concept that the Bible uses in several ways.
Family. In the ancient world every culture had customs for the passing of wealth and possessions from one generation to the next. In ancient Israel special provisions were made for inheriting land upon the death of the father. The firstborn son received a double portion; the rest was divided equally among the remaining sons. If a man lacked sons, priority went to the following in order: daughters, brothers, father’s brothers, next of kin (Num. 27:1–11). The OT provides guidance for additional circumstances (Gen. 38:8–9; Num. 36:6; Lev. 25:23–24; Deut. 21:15–17; 25:5–10; Ruth 2:20; 3:9–13; 4:1–12), with an overriding concern for the stability of the family and the retention of the land within a tribe. Under Roman law during the NT period, an heir had legal standing even while the father was still alive; his status was based on birth or adoption rather than the father’s death.
Old Testament. Even more prominent than family inheritance is the assertion that God gave the land of Canaan to Abraham and his descendants as an inheritance (Gen. 12:7; 15:18–21; 17:8; Num. 34:1–29; Deut. 12:10). This inheritance is God’s gracious gift, not something that Israel earned by its righteousness (Deut. 9:4–7). Descriptions of the land (“flowing with milk and honey”) and its fertility portray this gift as a new Eden, where God will dwell with his people (Exod. 3:8, 17; Lev. 20:24; Num. 16:13–14; Deut. 11:9–12). In some texts the language of inheritance moves beyond the land of Canaan to an international scope. In Ps. 2:8 the anointed king recounts God saying to him, “Ask me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession.” This expansion of inheritance from the land of Canaan to the ends of the earth prepares the way for a similar expansion in the NT (see Rom. 4:13).
God’s relationship with Israel is also described in terms of inheritance. On the one hand, Israel is described as God’s inheritance (Deut. 32:9; 1 Sam. 10:1; 1 Kings 8:51–53); on the other hand, God is Israel’s inheritance (Pss. 16:5; 73:26; Jer. 10:16; 51:19). This mutuality expresses the intimacy of God’s relationship with Israel.
New Testament. Inheritance language is taken up in the NT and expanded in a variety of ways. First and foremost, Jesus Christ is the “heir of all things,” the Son to whom the Father has given all authority in heaven and on earth (Matt. 28:18–20; Heb. 1:2–5). Through their union with Christ, believers share in Christ’s inheritance (Rom. 8:17), having been qualified by the Father to share in that inheritance (Col. 1:12). What believers inherit is described in various ways: the earth (Matt. 5:5), eternal life (Luke 10:25), the kingdom (1 Cor. 6:9–10; James 2:5), salvation (Heb. 1:14), blessing (Heb. 12:17; 1 Pet. 3:9). This inheritance was enacted by the death of Christ and sealed by his blood (Heb. 9:15–28). Believers experience the benefits of this inheritance through the Spirit now (Eph. 1:14, 18), but its fullness is reserved in heaven and awaits the consummation (1 Pet. 1:4–6).
The connection between the believer’s inheritance and the Spirit is especially prominent in Paul. In Gal. 4:1–7 Paul uses a combination of exodus and legal imagery to explain the gospel. Before Christ came, God’s people were heirs under the care of guardians and trustees. But once Christ came and redeemed them from under the law, they received their full inheritance as adopted sons and daughters. Central to that inheritance is the gift of the Spirit, who cries out, “Abba, Father.” It is this gift of the Spirit that definitively marks believers as sons and daughters rather than slaves. Because believers possess the Spirit as an inheritance in fulfillment of the promise to Abraham (Gal. 3:14; cf. Isa. 44:3–5), they have moved from bondage under the law to freedom in Christ (Gal. 5:1).
The biblical writers proclaim that only one God exists, yet they also refer to three persons as “God.” The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are all God. Furthermore, these three persons relate to one another as self-conscious individuals. Jesus prays to the Father (John 17). The Father speaks from heaven concerning the Son (Matt. 3:17; Luke 3:22). Jesus vows to send the Spirit as “Advocate” after his ascension, and he will do what Jesus himself did while he was among us (John 16:7–8). The challenge of Christian theology, therefore, is to formulate a doctrine of God that captures all these elements, each of which surfaces in both Testaments.
Old Testament
In the OT, evidence for the Trinity appears mostly at the implicit level. Yahweh is called “Father” in Isaiah (63:16; 64:8), Jeremiah (3:4, 19; 31:9), and Malachi (2:10). Isaiah declares, “But you are our Father, though Abraham does not know us or Israel acknowledge us; you, Lord, are our Father, our Redeemer from of old is your name” (Isa. 63:16). Yahweh identifies himself as “Father” implicitly when he claims Israel as his “son” (Hos. 11:1), and the same principle applies to Ps. 2:7, where God declares to his anointed, “You are my son; today I have become your father.” These cases do not compare in numbers with the NT evidence, but a person thought of as “God the Father” certainly appears in the OT.
Messianic texts of the OT introduce us to God the Son. In Isa. 9:6 a “child is born” who will be called “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” The day of “Immanuel,” or “God with us,” is foreshadowed in Isa. 7:14 (cf. Matt. 1:22), while Isa. 40:3–5 anticipates the appearance of the Lord “in the wilderness” (cf. Matt. 3:3). Daniel sees “one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven” being given “authority, glory and sovereign power” (Dan. 7:13–14). In Ps. 110:1 Yahweh says to David’s “Lord,” “Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.”
Similarly, the OT seems to distinguish the Spirit of God from Yahweh while implying the Spirit’s own personality. Genesis 1:2 makes that case, as does Exod. 31:3, where Yahweh fills Bezalel with the “Spirit of God” (cf. Exod. 35:31; Num. 11:29). In 1 Sam. 16:14 a contrast is made between the “Spirit of the Lord” that leaves Saul and an “evil spirit from the Lord” that torments him; also we find a repentant David pleading that God would not take away his “Holy Spirit” (Ps. 51:11). The Spirit can be put on persons by God, with the result that they prophesy (Isa. 61:1; Joel 2:28–29) and do what pleases him (Ezek. 36:26–27). In the OT, therefore, we see two persons (the Son and the Holy Spirit) who are both God and also distinguishable from one to whom they answer and by whom they are sent.
New Testament
The NT contains abundant evidence for “God the Father,” often because of Jesus’ teaching. The “Father” appears several times in the Sermon on the Mount (e.g., Matt. 5:16; 6:6–9, 14, 18, 26, 32; 7:11). Matthew 7:21 stands out because of Jesus’ reference to “my Father who is in heaven,” by which he identifies himself as the Son (see also Matt. 15:13; 16:17; 18:10; and Luke 24:49). Paul’s greetings normally come from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, as seen in Rom. 1:7: “Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ” (also 1 Cor. 1:3; 2 Cor. 1:2; Gal. 1:1–3; 1 Tim. 1:2; 2 Tim. 1:2). Paul introduces the Father and the Son in 1 Cor. 8:6: “For us there is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live; and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came and through whom we live” (see also 1 Cor. 15:24; 2 Cor. 11:31; Eph. 1:3; Phil. 2:22). Other significant texts include Heb. 1:5; 1 Pet. 1:2–3; in the latter, the scattered believers are those “who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled with his blood. . . . Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!” The NT evidence for “God the Father” is clear.
Biblical texts that point to the deity of Christ supply evidence for the second claim: the Son is God. Some of the texts listed above say as much, but one can take this case further. In context, John’s prologue refers to Jesus as the “Word” and proclaims that he was “with God” and “was God” (John 1:1). Jesus also relates to the Father in ways that imply his own deity, as he declares in John 10:30, “I and the Father are one.” After significant doubting, Thomas confesses the deity of Christ in John 20:28: “My Lord and my God!” NT passages that identify Jesus as the “Son of God” point to his deity, as Peter does in Matt. 16:16: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Even demons identify Jesus as the Son. They call out, “What do you want with us, Son of God? . . . Have you come here to torture us before the appointed time?” (Matt. 8:29; cf. Mark 5:7). The so-called Christ Hymn of Phil. 2:6–11 puts Jesus on the level with God, saying that he did not consider “equality with God something to be used to his own advantage.” The author of Hebrews declares that Jesus is “the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being” (1:3). Colossians 1:15–16 says that Jesus is the “image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation” and the one by whom “all things were created,” and Col. 1:19 states that “God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him.” According to Titus 2:13, Jesus is “our great God and Savior.” The entire sequence of Rev. 4–5 highlights the deity of Christ, culminating in the praise “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praise and honor and glory and power, for ever and ever!” as both the Enthroned One and the Lamb are worshiped as God (5:13–14).
The NT writers underscore both the deity and the distinctive personality of the Holy Spirit. Jesus is conceived in Mary’s womb by the Spirit’s power (Matt. 1:18–20), and when Jesus is baptized, the Spirit descends upon him as a dove (Matt. 3:16; Mark 1:10). Jesus drives out demons by the Spirit, and one dare not speak against the Spirit when he does so (Matt. 12:28–32). Luke’s Gospel puts added emphasis on the ministry of the Spirit, as we also see in Acts. He empowers various people to praise and prophesy (Luke 1:41, 67) and to be witnesses for Christ (Acts 1:8; 2:4, 17–18, 38). Sinners can lie to the Holy Spirit (Acts 5:3, 9), and the Holy Spirit bears witness along with the apostles to the risen Christ (5:32). In John’s Gospel, the Spirit becomes the counselor and teacher of the disciples, reminding them of their Lord’s instructions (John 14:26; 16:13). The Spirit brings assurance of sonship (Rom. 8:16) and helps disciples when they pray (8:26). This person even knows the very thoughts of God (1 Cor. 2:11). Accordingly, the Great Commission requires baptism in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (Matt. 28:19). All three members of the Trinity have a part in the advancement of the kingdom, the Spirit no less than the Father and the Son.
Relationships between Father, Son, and Spirit
The evidence considered thus far demonstrates that three persons are called “God” in Scripture: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. But the Scriptures also point to a chain of command in their relationship to one another. The Son obeys the Father, and the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son to apply the work of the cross to the church. This “functional subordination” of the Son to the Father, some might argue, would follow simply from the analogy chosen by God to reveal himself to us. The “Son” would obey his “Father,” not vice versa, though they share a common dignity as God, just as a human father and son share a common humanity. But the NT writers expressly tell us that they relate to each other in this way. In Matt. 11:27 (cf. Luke 10:22) Jesus announces, “All things have been committed to me by my Father” (cf. John 3:35; 5:22). The latter transfers authority to the former as his subordinate. The Father even (for a season) knows more than the Son regarding the last days: “About that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (Matt. 24:36), though he also dignifies the Son: “For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does” (John 5:20). The Son’s commitment to please his heavenly Father is a prominent theme of the NT, as Jesus declares in John 5:19: “The Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does.” No text brings out this dependence of the Son upon the Father more clearly than Heb. 5:7–8, where the Son is said to have “offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered.” It is debated by theologians whether this functional subordination relates only to the period of the Son’s earthly ministry, or whether it is an eternal subordination.
The Spirit, though equal in personality and dignity with the Father and the Son, proceeds from them to apply the work of the cross and empower the church for ministry. In John 14:26 Jesus says, “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.” In John 15:26 Jesus announces that he also sends the Spirit out: “When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father—the Spirit of truth who goes out from the Father—he will testify about me.” The Spirit only conveys what he has received: “He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come” (John 16:13). The same “chain of command” appears in John 16:15, where Jesus says, “All that belongs to the Father is mine. That is why I said the Spirit will receive from me what he will make known to you.”
Trinitarian Heresies
The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are God, while being distinguishable persons. The Son obeys the Father; and these two persons of the Trinity send out the Holy Spirit to implement our deliverance from sin. A defensible explanation of the Trinity will respect all these dynamics, taking special care not to illustrate them with misleading images or simply lapse into various forms of polytheism. One of the earliest heresies of the church came from Marcion, a second-century theologian who distinguished the Father of Jesus from the supposedly vindictive God of the OT, which leaves us with more than one God. Later came the heresies of modalism and subordinationism (or Arianism). Modalists claimed that the persons of the Trinity are no more than guises worn by the one person of God. One minute God is the Father, the next he is the Son or the Holy Spirit. Subordinationists such as Arius (died AD 336) went beyond the functionality of the NT’s chain of command, arguing that the Son and the Holy Spirit are not themselves God but are essentially subordinate to him. Jehovah’s Witnesses have fallen into this latter error, suggesting that Jesus is “a god” but not the Creator God.
These early heresies pressed the church to refine its understanding of the Trinity. In his response to Marcion’s error, Tertullian coined precise language to describe the persons of the Godhead, so that God’s “threeness” and “oneness” are preserved. He used the Latin term trinitas to describe the Christian God and argued that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit share the same “substance.” The Son (also, then, the Holy Spirit) is not simply of “like substance” (Gk. homoiousios) with God the Father, but rather is “consubstantial” (Gk. homoousios) with him: the Son is God, and so is the Holy Spirit. The Nicene Creed of AD 325 incorporated this explanation and, in so doing, also set aside the idea that either the Son or the Holy Spirit was created by God, as the Arian heresy requires. Nicaea also rejected adoptionism, which regards Jesus as a man whom God promoted by endowing him with supernatural powers.
Each of these heresies—plus, say, the strict monotheism of Islam—attempts to relieve the tension seen among the claims that constitute the Trinity; however, orthodox Christians will remember that tensions and paradoxes are not automatic contradictions. No philosopher or theologian has ever expressly demonstrated that the Trinity entails logical nonsense, and Christianity’s detractors carry the burden of proof in this case. It is one thing to allege that an idea is contradictory, and quite another thing to show with an argument that it is so. On the positive side, the Trinity must remain a central doctrine of the church because it affects all the others, especially the entire work of redemption. If God is not triune, then Jesus is not God; and if he is not God, then he cannot save us, nor can we worship him as our Lord. The sacrifice that he offers for our sin would not, in that case, be supremely valuable. Consider also the application to us of what Christ has done. If the Holy Spirit is not God, then he cannot speak for God as one who knows perfectly his thoughts and gives us the word of God, our Bible. Scripture indicates that God is triune, and sinners need him to be so.
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.
Terminology
The biblical writers describe miracles with various terms, such as “signs,” “wonders,” and “miracles” (or “powers”), which can carry various connotations. As the word “sign” suggests, divine miracles are significant and should cause us to think more deeply about God in a way that goes beyond mere amazement or curiosity (Exod. 4:30–31; John 2:11). Not all of God’s signs are miraculous. Some are given as part of his ordering of the natural world (Gen. 1:14) or as an encouragement to faith that God will do as he has said (e.g., the rainbow in Gen. 9:8–17; the blood of the Passover lamb in Exod. 12:13). (See also Sign.)
Often coupled with signs are “wonders” (Jer. 32:21; John 4:48; 2 Cor. 12:12). If the depiction of miracles as “signs” indicates an appeal to the intellect, that of “wonders” points to the emotions. Miracles evoke astonishment and awe at the one who did them.
The NT word “miracle” carries the meaning of power and therefore points to the supernatural source of these events (Luke 10:13; Acts 8:13).
Miracles in the Bible
Old Testament. 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).
New Testament. 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.
Miracles and faith. 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).
The function of miracles. Miracle accounts function in a symbolic and prophetic manner. Hence, the cursing of the fig tree was prophetic of the coming judgment (Mark 11:12–21). The unusual two-stage healing of the blind man of Bethsaida symbolized Peter’s incomplete understanding of Jesus’ messiahship (Mark 8:22–33).
The miraculous element of Jesus’ ministry carries an eschatological significance, pointing to the order of things in the age to come. For example, the nature miracles (Mark 4:35–41) look forward to the redemption of creation itself, which is presently subject to frustration and decay (Rom. 8:20–21); the healing miracles point to a day when disease and deformity will be abolished (Rev. 21:4); and miracles in which the dead are raised to life anticipate a time when death itself will be no more (Rev. 20:14; 21:4). From this perspective, the miracles are a gracious foretaste of a far more glorious future.
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