In this beautiful psalm of praise, the “voice of the Lord,” the central thrust of Psalm 29, heard in the frightful st…
Teaching the Text by C. Hassell Bullock, Baker Publishing Group,
1 Ascribe to the Lord , O mighty ones, ascribe to the Lord glory and strength.
2 Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name; worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness.
3 The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders, the Lord thunders over the mighty waters.
4 The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is majestic.
5 The voice of the Lord breaks the cedars; the Lord breaks in pieces the cedars of Lebanon.
6 He makes Lebanon skip like a calf, Sirion like a young wild ox.
7 The voice of the Lord strikes with flashes of lightning.
8 The voice of the Lord shakes the desert; the Lord shakes the Desert of Kadesh.
9 The voice of the Lord twists the oaks and strips the forests bare. And in his temple all cry, "Glory!"
10 The Lord sits enthroned over the flood; the Lord is enthroned as King forever.
11 The Lord gives strength to his people; the Lord blesses his people with peace.
A powerful psalm of repetition—David over and over again proclaims the greatness of God—a greatness that extends over the forces of nature and overwhelms his heavenly host and his awed people. David combines repetition with metaphoric language to drive his message about the power of God forward. Furthermore, he concludes each repetitive section with a different focus: angels (mighty ones) are to worship God, literally, “in [the] beauty of holiness” (29:2); God’s majesty makes this world’s glory seem as if it were nothing (29:5–6); and humans are to worship God, proclaiming, “Glory!” (29:9). Glory to God, who rules over the forces of the earth, who reigns forever, and who empowers his people and gives them peace (29:10–11). The ending is unexpected: God’s terrifying power brings peace.
The Baker Illustrated Bible Commentary by Gary M. Burge, Baker Publishing Group, 2016
Big Idea: God has many voices, sometimes proclaiming his majesty and power through nature, while his people acclaim the message in worship.
Understanding the Text
In this beautiful psalm of praise, the “voice of the Lord,” the central thrust of Psalm 29, heard in the frightful storm, announces in nature’s accent the lordship of Yahweh, ending in the peaceful lull of the storm. In Psalm 96 (v. 10a) the announcement of the Lord’s reign sends the heavens and the earth and all creation into passionate jubilation.[1] See the sidebar “Psalms of Praise” in the introduction.
In both a literary and theological sense, Psalm 29 is beautifully balanced. The call to worship of 29:1–2 is balanced by 29:10–11, the final announcement of God’s enthronement as “King forever,” and from that truth issues forth the blessing of strength and peace for God’s people. The middle part of the psalm (29:3–9) develops the reasons why the Lord should be praised and why he as “King forever” can, by virtue of his enthronement, give strength to his people and bless them with peace. In this central section “the voice of the Lord” occurs seven times, in much the same sense that the covenant name “Lord” appears seven times in the second half of Psalm 19 (19:7–14) to mark his perfection and his perfect manifestation in the law. The repetition in the poem, far from being tedious, builds with the intensity of an incredible storm, which starts in the sea (29:3), sweeps in waves of awesome power from Lebanon in the north to Kadesh in the south, centering its calm and peaceful eye on the temple, where everything and everybody in unison utter the climactic praise of God as they shout, “Glory!” (29:9).[2] Perowne observes that the meteorological cues are the structural girders of the psalm. Each strophe “begins with a burst, and closes with a lull in the tempest.”[3]
Commentators have rightly called attention to the psalm’s similarity to Psalm 96:7–13 (verbal differences are italicized):[4]
Comparison of Psalm 29 and Psalm 96
“Ascribe to the Lord, you heavenly beings, ascribe to the Lord glory and strength” (29:1)
“Ascribe to the Lord, all you families of nations, ascribe to the Lord glory and strength” (96:7)
“Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name” (29:2a)
“Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name; bring an offering and come into his courts”(96:8)
“Worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness” (29:2b)
“Worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness” (96:9a)
Outline/Structure
1. The ascription (29:1–2)
2. The voice of the Lord (29:3–9a)
a. Description of the voice of the Lord over the waters (29:3–4)
b. Effect of the voice of the Lord on the cedars of Lebanon (29:5–7)
c. Effect of the voice of the Lord on the Desert of Kadesh (29:8–9a)
3. Response of the people to their King (29:9b–11)
Historical and Cultural Background
The Septuagint augments the title of Psalm 29, “A psalm of David,” with “For the following day of Sukkot” (exodiou sk?n?s; cf. Num. 29:35). It is recited on the first day after Sukkot.[5]
Judging from the geographical terms, the storm described in 29:3–9a apparently begins in the Mediterranean Sea (“over the waters”), sweeps inland over the majestic forests of Lebanon in the north, and leaves a wide trail of devastation from Mount Hermon (Sirion) to Kadesh in the south.[6] While there is no hint of Baal, the god of the storm, a counterstatement to that myth may be implied, since he figures so prominently in the religious psyche of Israel, both as a henotheistic option and as a rival of Yahweh, who overpowers and outmatches this god of nature. That was the object of Elijah’s ministry, and interestingly, when the writer of 1 Kings wants to draw the contrast between Yahweh and Baal, he traces the line through a powerful storm, a shattering earthquake, and a subsequent fire, to the “still small voice” of Yahweh, distinguishing the real Deity from the mythical one (1 Kings 19:11–12; see RSV). David, compared to 1 Kings 19, uses only the imagery of the storm to demonstrate God’s power, and his description decrescendos into God’s gift of “peace,” perhaps comparable to the “still small voice” (KJV) of Elijah’s experience. If Psalm 29 is Davidic and thus prior to the Kings story, the comparison is more parabolic than imitative, which means there is no textual dependency.
Interpretive Insights
29:1 Ascribe to the Lord, you heavenly beings, ascribe to the Lord. Note this same kind of repetition in other poetry: Genesis 49:22; Judges 5:12. The exhortation appears elsewhere in the Psalter only in 96:7–8 (1 Chron. 16:28–29 quotes this text), and its object there as here is “honor and strength” (see comparison above).
The Hebrew equivalent of “heavenly beings” is literally “sons of ’elim,”[7] the latter term being the plural of ’el (“God”). The phrase likely means “heavenly beings” or “angels.” Calvin, however, understands ’elim to mean “mighty” (cf. Job 41:25 NIV) and translates it “mighty rulers,” thus identifying the scene as the earthly court rather than the heavenly. The majority opinion, however, favors the “heavenly” (but not divine) meaning of the term and the heavenly court[8] (see Job 1:6; 2:1).
29:2 worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness. The primary meaning of the verb for “worship” is to bow down (thus, to worship). The phrase “splendor of his holiness,” found also in 96:9 (also the parallel in 1 Chron. 16:29; 2 Chron. 20:21), alludes to the “splendid attire” of the priests (KJV “beauty of holiness”).
29:3 The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders. Here begins the main section of the psalm (29:3–9), which is a description of the Lord’s “glory and strength” alluded to in 29:1.[9] Psalm 104:7 describes the Lord’s voice in creation (Gen. 1:9–10) as “the voice of Your thunder” (NKJV).
Perowne insists that each of the three “voice” strophes “begins with a burst, and closes with a lull in the tempest.”[10] The first strophe begins with thunder (29:3) and ends in the quieter tone of divine majesty (29:4). The second strophe renews the fury of the storm (29:5) and falls to a lower key in the flashing lightning of verse 7. The third strophe begins with one long peal of thunder after another (29:8) and then is lost in “the music and songs of the heavenly host” (29:9b),[11] concluding with the Lord’s blessing of peace (29:11b).
The “waters” may be the Mediterranean Sea, or the waters “above the firmament,”[12] or the waters of the storm clouds.[13] In view of the other geographical locations in the psalm, the Mediterranean Sea fits well.
29:4 majestic. The term suggests kingly power and adornment (see 29:10).
29:5 The voice of the Lord breaks . . . the cedars of Lebanon. The cedars of Lebanon had a reputation for their stately beauty and size, like the sequoias of California. Yet at the thunderous voice of God in the storm, they splinter into toothpicks. The word “breaks” is a Qal participle, while the second line (“breaks in pieces”) has the Piel imperfect of the same verb plus the waw consecutive, implying a repeated breaking. Ancient Middle Eastern kings, including David and Solomon (2 Sam. 5:11; 1 Kings 5:6–9),[14] boasted that they had secured lumber for their buildings from Lebanon.
29:6 He makes Lebanon leap like a calf, Sirion like a young wild ox. The beautiful imagery of the mountains leaping like a calf and an ox (Ps. 114:4) implies a happy frolic as a response to the Lord’s voice. Located in northern Israel, Sirion is the poetic name for Mount Hermon, whose height is 9,232 feet.
29:7 flashes of lightning. The phrase is literally “flames of fire,” usually translated “lightning.”
29:8 shakes the desert . . . the Desert of Kadesh. The NIV renders the Hebrew word midbar (“wilderness”) as “desert,” but there is no desert as such in Israel. The exodus may be in view here. This is the only occurrence of “Desert of Kadesh” in the Old Testament, and here it refers to the Wilderness of Zin (Num. 20:1; 33:36; Deut. 1:19, 46) in the region of Kadesh Barnea. The scope of the storm, then, is from the sea, inland to the Lebanese mountains, and southward to the Wilderness of Zin. Similar imagery of shaking occurs in Psalms 68:8–9 and 114:7.
29:9 twists the oaks . . . in his temple all cry, “Glory!” The meaning of the phrase yeholel ’ayyalot (NIV: “twists the oaks”), with the Polel form of the verb, is to “make the deer go into labor.” However, the NIV translates the noun “deer” (’ayyalot) as “oaks” (probably because of the parallelism with the following half line, “and strips the forests bare”), even though the trauma of the storm could certainly cause the deer to go into labor (thus KJV and NJPS, which is preferable; see the NIV footnote). These “all” who cry “Glory!” are those worshiping in the temple, perhaps even joined by the heavenly worshipers. The temple is where the climax of God’s glory occurs. The word “glory” forms an inclusio with 29:1 and 2, especially completing the idea of “the glory due his name.” Now it is finally offered by the worshipers in the temple.
29:10 enthroned over the flood. This word for “flood” occurs only in Genesis, in relation to the flood narrative (Gen. 6–11), suggesting by its exclusivity that God’s manifestation in nature, both in Noah’s time and in David’s, was the “supreme example of natural forces,”[15] and that he in both times exercised his dominion over the natural world. This psalm declares in its own lovely way what the psalms of the heavenly King proclaim in their distinctive declaration: “The Lord reigns!”[16] Thus the poem ends where it began, in the heavenly court with Yahweh seated on his throne. See the sidebar in the unit on Psalm 93.
29:11 The Lord blesses his people with peace. God’s sovereign peace follows the horrible storm that has now passed. Delitzsch writes: “Gloria in excelsis [“Glory (to God) in the highest”] is its beginning, and pax in terris [“peace on earth”] its conclusion.”[17]
Theological Insights
As we have seen in Psalm 19, God speaks in both nature and the law. Psalm 19 attests the divine word in the routine of nature and in the words of the law in a complementary way. Psalm 29 offers a similar comparison, first the divine word in the tumultuous storm of 29:3–9a, and then the brief but climactic shout of “Glory!” by all in the temple in 29:9b. The two expressions of God’s word are complementary, as they are also in Psalm 19. But in effect, the content of God’s voice in the powerful storm is divulged in the descriptive language of the psalm. God is powerful—he breaks cedars, makes Lebanon leap like a calf, and strikes with flashes of lightning (29:5, 6, 7). God has many voices, but they speak to us differently. This, in fact, is what the psalmist wants us to recognize, and he issues a call to the angels (NIV: “heavenly beings”; see the comments on 29:1) to recognize the Lord’s “glory and strength” and to worship him in the sacred regalia of the heavenly temple (“the splendor of his holiness,” 29:2). It may very well be that the call is not only for recognition but to yield all “glory and strength” to God, who is their rightful Possessor.[18] Of the three voices in the psalm, we do not hear the voice of God, except in the powerful work of nature (29:3–9a). Even the voice of the heavenly beings, unlike Isaiah’s seraphim (Isa. 6), is only implied. Yet they may join the cry of “Glory” (29:9b), giving us a combination of the “heavenly beings” in the heavenly temple and the celebrants in the earthly sanctuary.
This manifestation of power attests to God’s kingship over the primordial flood (see the comments on 29:10) and thus his rule over the work of nature. As he spoke to the world through Noah’s flood, and thereby established his lordship (or kingship) over the world, so he has again spoken in waters and winds of nature’s force to tell the world once more that he is “King forever” (29:10b). Out of his strength the Lord “gives strength to his people” and “blesses his people with peace,” a welcome peace after the storm (29:11).
Teaching the Text
In a literary sense, Psalm 29 is one of the most beautiful psalms in the entire Psalter. Here is an excellent opportunity to build a lesson or sermon on the voice of God, structuring the sermon on the three voices we hear in the psalm: the psalmist’s voice (29:1–2, 10–11), the Lord’s voice in nature (29:3–9a), and the congregation’s voice (29:9b).
First, we can draw attention to the fact that the psalmist’s voice begins and concludes the psalm (29:1–2 and 10–11), thus giving a balance to the structure of the psalm. It starts out with praise and ends with praise, first addressing the angels, and then concluding the middle section (29:3–9a) by letting us listen in on the acclamation of God’s people in the temple as they join the chorus (29:9b). It would be appropriate to stress worship as inclusive praise of God. That is, worship is in part confession and petition, but all within the frame of and to the end of the praise of God. The range of praise in this psalm begins in heaven, proceeds in the works of God in nature, and concludes with the earthly chorus rising from the temple, much like we have in Revelation 5.
Second, we will listen to the featured voice of the psalm, the Lord’s voice (29:3–9a), not in spoken words but in actions of nature, similar to Psalm 19:1–6, except the tone of his voice is different from that of Psalm 19 (see “Theological Insights”). Quite significantly the phrase “voice of the Lord” occurs seven times in verses 3–9, the number seven authenticating the voice as the Lord’s voice. In this setting God speaks in a tumultuous storm, revealing himself as the majestic (29:4b) and omnipotent God (“strength,” 29:1b; “powerful,” 29:4a). Then the psalm centers God in the Jerusalem temple, where we hear the congregation’s response as they join the heavenly chorus: “And in his temple all cry, ‘Glory!’” (29:9b), a response to the command of verse 2a: “Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name.” In Psalm 29 we hear one of God’s many voices as he says to Israel through his work in nature: “I am powerful, majestic, sovereign.”
While Psalm 29 does not itself communicate this message, some teachers and preachers will feel that concluding on the note of God’s power may leave us with an unfinished gospel. That is, we need to stress that God is “love.” And the Psalms, as we have observed, are filled with that message, a message we want and need to hear, even though the psalmist evidently thought the message of the hour was God’s power and sovereignty. But not to detract from that word, we may augment the message of this psalm with the fuller message of love that the psalms teach so clearly and the New Testament relates so graphically in the cross. In this regard we might say that if God is not powerful (“omnipotent” is our theological term), then how can we trust his love? God’s power is conditioned by his love.
Third, we may return to the voice of the congregation (29:9b) and make the point that the final two and a half verses of the psalm leave us emboldened to live in this difficult and evil world as they emphasize the fact that the sovereign God gives strength to his people and blesses them with peace (29:11). The word “peace” (shalom) is a product of God’s “love” (hesed), even though the latter term does not occur in this psalm. And he is King forever!
Illustrating the Text
God is majestic and powerful.
Film: Twister. Much of Psalm 29 focuses on the power and majesty of God expressed through nature. Imagery from Psalm 29:3–9 might be visualized by thinking about the devastation wrought by tornadoes, such as is seen in the 1996 movie Twister. This movie is a fictionalized account of storm chasers who are seeking to understand tornadoes. The destruction of the wind is incredible as it levels buildings, uproots trees, and destroys everything in its path. At one point in the film, the characters discuss the Fujita scale for measuring tornadoes. The most powerful type of tornado, the F5, is in hushed tones referred to as “the finger of God.” The movie shows the power of nature and, when connected with Psalm 29, provides a great visual of the power and sovereignty of God.
God is the sovereign King.
Cultural Institution: Americans will have a much harder time understanding and appreciating the institution of kingship than will the British or people of other nations that have a monarchy. The attribution of kingship to God is common in the Bible, and the Greek notion of democracy never influenced the Scriptures. But God’s kingdom implies his kingship. A King who does “not judge by what he sees with his eyes, or decide by what he hears with his ears,” but judges the world in righteousness (Isa. 11:3–5) is the perfect King. Moreover, a King who is love and who can dispense his love because he is all-powerful is King of kings. The kingdom of God is thus a theocracy, and we have nothing to fear as subjects in that realm. So the psalmist declares: “The Lord is enthroned as King forever” (29:10b). On the other hand, a human-centered government brings with it the sinful inclinations of its citizens. Calvin’s experiment in Geneva sought to move this human community in the direction of a theocracy, although Calvin himself was well aware that such an earthly city could never rise to the level of the new Jerusalem. But it could be a station on the way. Calvin’s motto was “improve the world, begin with Geneva.”[19] We would do well to post this motto across the lintel of our church doors and on the foreheads of our own personal lives—with only the names changed.
Teaching the Text by C. Hassell Bullock, Baker Publishing Group, 2016
Direct Matches
Although the calf was not a principal animal used in the sacrificial system, there were significant occasions when a male calf or a heifer was slaughtered. These included the ordination offerings (Lev. 9:2 8) and the ritual for dealing with an unsolved murder (Deut. 21:3–8). A heifer was among the animals that Abram cut in pieces when God made the covenant (Gen. 15:9–18; cf. Jer. 34:18–19). As David brought the ark of the covenant to Jerusalem, a bull and a fattened calf were sacrificed (2 Sam. 6:13). Finally, when the prodigal son returned, the father slaughtered a fattened calf (Luke 15:23). Almost half of the thirty-six occurrences of “calf” refer to an idol.
The second king of Israel (r. 1010 970 BC), founder of a dynasty that continued with his son Solomon (r. 970–931 BC), who ruled all of Israel; subsequently the remaining “sons of David” ruled the southern kingdom, Judah, until 586 BC.
Human kingship is a late development in Israel, but a number of ancient texts anticipate the establishment of the institution (Gen. 17:6; Deut. 17:14–20) and specifically the rise of a king from Judah (Gen. 49:8–12; Num. 24:17). Thus, it is surprising that the first king of Israel is not from Judah, but from Benjamin. When the people ask Samuel for a king, he anoints Saul (1 Sam. 8–12), who proves to be a tremendous disappointment. He forfeits the establishment of his dynasty when he shows a lack of confidence in God by rashly offering prebattle sacrifices (13:13–14). God then rejects Saul as king because he does not execute God’s full judgment against the Amalekites as he knows he should (15:23).
Eventually Saul’s moment of judgment comes. Saul’s final battle is against the Philistines, the major foreign force still inside the borders of the promised land. Both Saul and Jonathan meet their end on Mount Gilboa, and David sings songs that express his sadness over their deaths (1 Sam. 31–2 Sam. 1).
Even with Saul out of the way, David’s rise to kingship is not easy. He is immediately crowned king of Judah (2 Sam. 2:1–7), but the northern tribes choose to follow Ish-Bosheth, the son of Saul. War erupts between the two kingdoms. Eventually, though, the powerful general Abner abandons his support of Saul’s son, sealing the end of that dynasty. Ish-Bosheth is killed by his own men, and soon David becomes king over all Israel (5:1–5).
David’s kingship leads to significant victories that, in essence, complete the conquest of Canaan by finally subduing all the internal enemies. His men take the city of Jerusalem from the Jebusites, and he makes it his capital (2 Sam. 5:6–16). He also defeats the Philistines, who have been a thorn in the side of Israel for years (2 Sam. 5:17–25; for other victories, see 8:1–14). In celebration, David brings the ark of the covenant to Jerusalem (2 Sam. 6).
The David narrative reaches its apex when God enters into a covenant with him that establishes his dynasty (2 Sam. 7; 1 Chron. 17). After David dies, his son will succeed him, and indeed his dynasty lasts for many hundreds of years (see below).
David is a good king, but not a perfect king. A turning point in his reign comes in 2 Sam. 11. Up to this point, David has been content with what God has given him. He does not grasp for anything that does not belong to him. However, when he sees the beautiful Bathsheba bathing, he sends messengers to bring her to his house, where the two have sexual intercourse and she becomes pregnant. In an attempt to conceal this sin of adultery, he orders the death of her husband, Uriah the Hittite. Thus, he adds the crime of murder to that of adultery.
David thinks that the sin is secret, but nothing is hidden from God, who sends his prophet Nathan to confront David (2 Sam. 12; cf. Ps. 51). The difference between Saul and David is not that the latter is perfect but rather that David, as opposed to Saul, repents when he sins. Thus, God allows his reign to continue. Even so, David feels the consequences of his sin. First, the son that Bathsheba bears from her illicit union with David is struck with illness and dies. And ever afterward, David’s family life is troubled, with great impact on the political life of Israel. Son is pitted against son (Amnon and Absalom [2 Sam. 13]), as well as son against father (Absalom and David [2 Sam. 15–18]). Absalom temporarily deposes his father from the throne, but David eventually regains the kingship, though at the cost of the heartbreaking loss of his son.
Even at the very end, there is conflict within David’s house. When David has grown old, another son, Adonijah, attempts to take the throne, with support from powerful people such as Joab and Abiathar. At the instigation of Bathsheba and Nathan, however, David places the son of his choosing, Solomon, on the throne (1 Kings 1). David then dies after a reign of forty-one years, seven in Hebron and the rest over all Israel (1 Kings 2:10–12).
David’s greatest legacy is the dynasty that bears his name. Beginning with Solomon, however, his successors do not continue his spiritual legacy. Although a number of kings do some good, only Hezekiah (r. 727–698 BC) and Josiah (r. 639–609 BC) are given unqualified approval. Eventually, the Davidic rule comes to an end in Jerusalem at the hands of the Babylonians (586 BC). But God is not done with his redemptive purposes, and his promise to David is that he will have a ruler on the throne “forever” (2 Sam. 7:16). The NT recognizes that Jesus Christ is the fulfillment of this promise. He is the greater son of David, the one who is the Christ or Messiah, the anointed king. Jesus is the one who reigns forever in heaven. The life and the rule of David foreshadow the messianic rule of Jesus Christ.
A broad designation for certain regions in Israel, typically rocky, although also plains, with little rainfall. These areas generally are uninhabited, and most often “wilderness” refers to specific regions surrounding inhabited Israel. A fair amount of Scripture’s focus with respect to the wilderness concerns Israel’s forty-year period of wandering in the wilderness after the exodus (see also Wilderness Wandering).
More specifically, the geographical locations designated “wilderness” fall into four basic categories: the Negev (south), Transjordan (east), Judean (eastern slope of Judean mountains), and Sinai (southwest).
The Negev makes up a fair amount of Israel’s southern kingdom, Judah. It is very rocky and also includes plateaus and wadis, which are dry riverbeds that can bloom after rains. Its most important city is Beersheba (see Gen. 21:14, 22 34), which often designates Israel’s southernmost border, as in the expression “from Dan to Beersheba” (e.g., 2 Sam. 17:11).
Transjordan pertains to the area east of the Jordan River, the area through which the Israelites had to pass before crossing the Jordan on their way from Mount Sinai to Canaan. (Israel was denied direct passage to Canaan by the Edomites and Amorites [see Num. 20:14–21; 21:21–26].) Even though this region lay outside the promised land of Canaan, it was settled by the tribes of Reuben, Gad, and the half-tribe of Manasseh after they had fulfilled God’s command to fight alongside the other tribes in conquering Canaan (Num. 32:1–42; Josh. 13:8; 22:1–34).
The Judean Desert is located on the eastern slopes of the Judean mountains, toward the Dead Sea. David fled there for refuge from Saul (1 Sam. 21–23). It was also in this area that Jesus was tempted (Luke 4:1–13).
The Sinai Desert is a large peninsula, with the modern-day Gulf of Suez to the west and the Gulf of Aqaba to the east. In the ancient Near Eastern world, both bodies of water often were referred to as the “Red Sea,” which is the larger sea to the south. In addition to the region traditionally believed to contain the location of Mount Sinai (its exact location is unknown), the Sinai Desert is further subdivided into other areas known to readers of the OT: Desert of Zin (northeast, contains Kadesh Barnea), Desert of Shur (northwest, near Egypt), Desert of Paran (central).
Wilderness is commonly mentioned in the Bible, and although it certainly can have neutral connotations (i.e., simply describing a location), the uninhabited places often entail both positive (e.g., as a place of solitude) and negative (e.g., as a place of wrath) connotations, both in their actual geological properties and as metaphors. The very rugged and uninhabited nature of the wilderness easily lent itself to being a place of death (e.g., Deut. 8:15; Ps. 107:4–5; Jer. 2:6). It was also a place associated with Israel’s rebellions and struggles with other nations. Upon leaving Egypt, Israel spent forty years wandering the wilderness before entering Canaan, encountering numerous military conflicts along the way. This forty-year period was occasioned by a mass rebellion (Num. 14), hence casting a necessarily dark cloud over that entire period, and no doubt firming up subsequent negative connotations of “wilderness.” Similarly, “wilderness” connotes notions of exile from Israel, as seen in the ritual of the scapegoat (lit., “goat of removal” [see Lev. 16]). On the Day of Atonement, one goat was sacrificed to atone for the people’s sin, and another was sent off, likewise to atone for sin. The scapegoat was released into the desert, where it would encounter certain death, either by succumbing to the climate or through wild animals.
On the other hand, it is precisely in this uninhabited land that God also showed his faithfulness to his people, despite their prolonged punishment. He miraculously supplied bread (manna) and meat (quail) (Exod. 16; Num. 11), as well as water (Exod. 15:22–27; 17:1–7; Num. 20:1–13; 21:16–20). God’s care for Israel is amply summarized in Deut. 1:30–31: “The Lord your God, who is going before you, will fight for you, as he did for you in Egypt, before your very eyes, and in the wilderness. There you saw how the Lord your God carried you, as a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place.”
The harsh realities of the wilderness also made it an ideal place to seek sanctuary and protection. David fled from Saul to the wilderness, the Desert of Ziph (1 Sam. 23:14; 26:2–3; cf. Ps. 55:7). Similarly, Jeremiah sought a retreat in the desert from sinful Israel (Jer. 9:2).
Related somewhat to this last point is Jesus’ own attitude toward the wilderness. It was there that he retreated when he could no longer move about publicly (John 11:54). John the Baptist came from the wilderness announcing Jesus’ ministry (Matt. 3:1–3; Mark 1:2–4; Luke 3:2–6; John 1:23; cf. Isa. 40:3–5). It was also in the desert that Jesus went to be tempted but also overcame that temptation.
Recounted in Gen. 6:5 9:19, the flood is the event whereby God destroys all creatures except for Noah, his family, and a gathering of animals. The account is highly literary and God-centered. It opens and closes with Noah’s three sons (6:10; 9:18–19). Noah’s obedience is highlighted (7:5, 9, 16). God is the protagonist, and Noah remains silent.
In Gen. 6:5–22, God observes the grand scale of human wickedness, determines to destroy all life, and selects righteous Noah to build an ark. God’s “seeing” is judicial investigation (6:5, 13) that counters the sons of God who “saw” (6:2), just as his pained heart counters humankind’s wicked heart (6:5–6). God’s second statement, “I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race” (6:7), is his judicial sentence (cf. 3:15–19), affecting all life in the domain of human care (1:28; cf. Job 38:41; Ps. 36:6; Hos. 4:3; Joel 1:20).
The earth’s corruption and violence (Gen. 6:12–13) reflect a spectrum of evil that has despoiled a creation that was once “very good” (1:31; cf. 6:17; 7:21; 8:17; 9:11). God’s destruction responds to the moral corruption of the earth. The ark is a rectangular vessel designed for floating rather than sailing (6:14–15). Noah builds a microcosm of the earth to save its life. The boat’s windowlike openings and three decks reflect the cosmology of Gen. 1 (heavens, water, earth [cf. 6:16]). God makes a promise that Noah will survive and receive a covenant from God (6:18), fulfilled in the Noahic covenant following the flood (9:9, 11, 14–17).
Genesis 7:1–24 recounts the boarding of the ark and then the rising waters. Two numbering systems are used by the narrator in the flood narrative: one for dates of Noah’s age (day, month, year) and one for periods between flood stages. Both systems number between 365 and 370 days. The flood is portrayed as a reversal of the second and third days of creation. Watery boundaries that God once separated collapse (cf. 1:6–10). The rising flood is described in three phases: rising and lifting the ark (7:17), increasing greatly and floating the ark on the surface (7:18), and covering all the high mountains (7:19). Total destruction is amplified by reversing the order of creation—people, animals, birds (7:23)—with “all/every” occurring repeatedly in 7:21–23.
Genesis 8:1–22 recounts the disembarking and Noah’s sacrifice. Genesis 8:1 is the structural and theological center, with God fulfilling (= “remember”) his covenant promise for Noah’s safety. The ark rests on one mountain within the range in eastern Turkey (Kurdistan). The earth’s drying occurs as a process (8:3, 5, 9, 11, 13, 14), and echoes of creation reappear (e.g., “wind” [8:1; cf. 1:2]). Although the old curse is not lifted (cf. 5:29), God promises not to add to it (8:21). The flood has not reformed the human heart; it has only stopped the violence. God’s oath of restoration reaffirms the seamless rhythm of seasons that compose a full year (8:22).
Genesis 9:1–19 recounts the restoration of world order. Since murder was part of the antediluvian violence (6:11, 13), God’s law recalibrates earthly morality (9:5). God’s second postdiluvian speech encodes his plan for the broader preservation of creation (9:8–17). “My rainbow” is God’s confirming sign (9:13). The meteorological phenomenon of the storm is now harnessed as an image of peace. The cosmic warrior “hangs up” his bow in divine disarmament. Humankind now shares the responsibility of justice with God, illustrated in Noah’s first speech of cursing and blessing (9:20–27).
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).
Holiness is an attribute of God and of all that is fit for association with him. God alone is intrinsically holy (Rev. 15:4). God the Father is holy (John 17:11), as is the Son (Acts 3:14), while “Holy” is the characteristic designation of God’s Spirit (Ps. 51:11; Matt. 1:18). God’s name is holy (Luke 1:49), as are his arm (Ps. 98:1), ways (Ps. 77:13), and words (Ps. 105:42).
With reference to God himself, holiness may indicate something like his uniqueness, and it is associated with attributes such as his glory (Isa. 6:3), righteousness (Isa. 5:16), and jealousy—that is, his proper concern for his reputation (Josh. 24:19).
God’s dwelling place is in heaven (Ps. 20:6), and “holy” functions in some contexts as a virtual equivalent for heavenly (11:4). God’s throne is holy (47:8), and the angels who surround it are “holy ones” (89:5; cf. Mark 8:38).
A corollary of God’s holiness is that he must be treated as holy (Lev. 22:32)—that is, honored (Lev. 10:3), worshiped (Ps. 96:9), and feared (Isa. 8:13).
While “holy” is sometimes said to mean “set apart,” this does not appear to be its core meaning, though it is an associated notion (Lev. 20:26; Heb. 7:26). Holiness, as applied to people and things, is a relational concept. They are (explicitly or implicitly) holy “to the Lord” (Exod. 28:36), never “from” something.
The symbolic representation of God’s heavenly palace, the tabernacle (Exod. 40:9), and later the temple (1 Chron. 29:3), and everything associated with them, are holy and the means whereby God’s people in the OT may symbolically be brought near to God. For God to share his presence with anything or anyone else, these too must be holy (Lev. 11:44 45; Heb. 12:14).
The OT system of worship involved the distinction between unclean and clean, and between common and holy, and the means of effecting a transition to a state of cleanness or holiness (Lev. 10:10). People, places, and items may be made holy by a process of consecration or sanctification, whether simply by God’s purifying presence (Exod. 3:5) or by ritual acts (Exod. 19:10; 29:36).
God’s faithful people are described as holy (Exod. 19:6; 1 Pet. 2:9). In the OT, this is true of the whole people of God at one level, and of particular individuals at another. Thus, kings (Ps. 16:10), prophets (2 Kings 4:9), and in particular priests (Lev. 21:7) are declared to be holy. While the OT witnesses to some tension between the collective holiness of Israel and the particular holiness of its designated leaders (Num. 16:3), the latter were intended to act as models and facilitators of Israel’s holiness.
“Kadesh” means “holy” or “sacred.” This city was located between the Wilderness of Paran and the Wilderness of Zin in the northeast of Sinai (Num. 20:1; 33:36). It is first mentioned by the name “En Mishpat” (“spring of judgment”)—within the context of the war of four kings (Amraphel of Shinar, Arioch of Ellasar, Kedorlaomer of Elam, and Tidal of Goyim) against five kings (Bera of Sodom, Birsha of Gomorrah, Shinab of Admah, Shemeber of Zeboyim, and the king of Zoar)—as the area where Kedorlaomer and his allies defeated the Amalekites. Abraham joined in this conflict to rescue Lot from being taken captive (Gen. 14:1 16).
Hagar, the Egyptian servant of Sarai, fled to a spring in the wilderness between Kadesh and Bered after she was found to have conceived a child by Abram. It was here that she received the promise of Ishmael’s birth (Gen. 16:11–14).
Moses sent the twelve spies out from Kadesh to survey the promised land of Canaan. The negative report of ten of those spies caused the people to hesitate to take the land (Num. 13:26). For this lack of faith, the Israelites were required to wander in the wilderness for forty years, spending thirty-eight of those years at Kadesh (Deut. 2:14). It was here that Moses’ sister Miriam died and was buried (Num. 20:1).
At Kadesh the Israelites complained about their lack of water (Num. 20:2–5). Moses was instructed by God to take his staff and to tell the rock to yield water (20:6–8). But instead, Moses struck the rock with his staff twice. The water flowed out abundantly, but Moses was punished for his disobedience by not being allowed to bring the Israelites into the land (20:11–12).
The Israelites were encamped at Kadesh when the king of Edom denied them passage through his land (Num. 20:14–21). The site eventually became the southern border of the territory allotted to the tribe of Judah (Josh. 15:1–3).
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).
Biblical Lebanon is the region that consists of two parallel mountain ranges north of Israel, whose boundaries are very similar to modern-day Lebanon. The south-southwest range is called “Lebanon,” and the north-northeast range “Anti-Lebanon” (i.e., “all Lebanon to the east” [cf. Josh. 13:5]). Between the two ranges is the Valley of Lebanon, where the city of Baal Gad was located (Josh. 11:17; 12:7). At the southern end is Mount Hermon, where the snowcapped peaks probably gave rise to its name, which in Hebrew means “to be white” (Jer. 18:14).
Important to the present discussion is the metaphorical use of the term “Lebanon,” particularly in the OT, where the term occurs over seventy times (the name does not appear in the NT). First, associated with the mountainous range in the region, Lebanon evokes images of glory, fertility, and abundance. For example, the high elevation gives Lebanon the sense of majesty and glory (Isa. 35:2; 60:13; cf. 2 Kings 19:23), which is further equated with the glory of Jerusalem (Isa. 60:13; Ezek. 17:3, 22; cf. Isa. 10:34; Zech. 11:1) and the restored Israel (Zech. 10:10 11; cf. Jer. 22:6). The melting snows, plus the annual rainfall, ensure abundance and fertility (Ps. 104:16; Song 4:15; Jer. 18:14; cf. Ps. 72:16). The glory of Lebanon is linked with Sharon, Bashan, and Carmel in the territory of Israel (Isa. 2:13; 35:2; cf. Isa. 33:9; Nah. 1:4).
Second, of all the coniferous trees in the forest of Lebanon, cedars receive the greatest attention and have been regularly used to indicate stature and beauty. For example, their sweet smell describes the desirability of renewed Israel (Song 4:11; Hos. 14:7), and their magnificence reminds one of the beautiful trees in Eden (Ps. 104:16; Ezek. 31:9, 16). These towering evergreens are a fitting image of humankind. The righteous people are compared to a cedar of Lebanon (Ps. 92:12–15); the legs of the bridegroom are as noble as the cedars (Song 5:15); and even kings, both Davidic (Isa. 14:8; Ezek. 17:3) and foreign (Isa. 10:34; Ezek. 31:3–18), as well as their subjects (Judg. 9:15), are likened to the cedars of Lebanon. Quite often, they are symbols of political entities (Isa. 2:13; 40:16), such as Judah (Ezek. 17:3), Assyria (Ezek. 31:3), and Tyre (Ezek. 27:5).
Third, Lebanon, together with its forest, is used to depict negative images. For example, all its glories and riches combined are not enough for a sacrificial offering to God (Isa. 40:16). The barrenness of Lebanon is the result of God’s judgment (Isa. 33:9). Prophetic oracles are often associated with Lebanon. The cutting down or withering of the choicest trees is spoken of as judgment against the proud (Isa. 2:13; 33:9; Ezek. 31:15; Nah. 1:4), against the wicked nation of Tyre (Ezek. 27:1–9), and against Judah (Jer. 22:6–7).
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
Recounted in Gen. 6:5–9:19, the flood is the event whereby God destroys all creatures except for Noah, his family, and a gathering of animals. The account is highly literary and God-centered. It opens and closes with Noah’s three sons (6:10; 9:18–19). Noah’s obedience is highlighted (7:5, 9, 16). God is the protagonist, and Noah remains silent.
Terminology. The Hebrew word for “flood” is mabbul, and the Greek word is kataklysmos. Outside of the Gen. 6–9 narrative and references to the flood in Gen. 10:1, 32; 11:10, mabbul occurs only in Ps. 29:10, probably a reference to the primordial water stored above the firmament in jars (cf. Gen. 1:7; 7:11). The LXX translates mabbul with kataklysmos in Sir. 40:10; 44:17–18; 4 Macc. 15:31. Hebrew Sirach and the Aramaic Genesis Apocryphon also use mabbul for the flood (Sir. 44:17; 1QapGen ar 12:9–10). All four uses of kataklysmos in the NT refer to the flood (Matt. 24:38–39; Luke 17:27; 2 Pet. 2:5).
The flood narrative. In Gen. 6:5–22, God observes the grand scale of human wickedness, determines to destroy all life, and selects righteous Noah to build an ark. God’s “seeing” is judicial investigation (6:5, 13) that counters the sons of God who “saw” (6:2), just as his pained heart counters humankind’s wicked heart (6:5–6). God’s second statement, “I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race” (6:7), is his judicial sentence (cf. 3:15–19), affecting all life in the domain of human care (1:28; cf. Job 38:41; Ps. 36:6; Hos. 4:3; Joel 1:20).
The earth’s corruption and violence (Gen. 6:12–13) reflect a spectrum of evil that has despoiled a creation that was once “very good” (1:31; cf. 6:17; 7:21; 8:17; 9:11). God’s destruction responds to the moral corruption of the earth. The ark is a rectangular vessel designed for floating rather than sailing (6:14–15). Noah builds a microcosm of the earth to save its life. The boat’s windowlike openings and three decks reflect the cosmology of Gen. 1 (heavens, water, earth [cf. 6:16]). God makes a promise that Noah will survive and receive a covenant from God (6:18), fulfilled in the Noahic covenant following the flood (9:9, 11, 14–17).
Genesis 7:1–24 recounts the boarding of the ark and then the rising waters. Two numbering systems are used by the narrator in the flood narrative: one for dates of Noah’s age (day, month, year) and one for periods between flood stages. Both systems number between 365 and 370 days. The flood is portrayed as a reversal of the second and third days of creation. Watery boundaries that God once separated collapse (cf. 1:6–10). The rising flood is described in three phases: rising and lifting the ark (7:17), increasing greatly and floating the ark on the surface (7:18), and covering all the high mountains (7:19). Total destruction is amplified by reversing the order of creation—people, animals, birds (7:23)—with “all/every” occurring repeatedly in 7:21–23.
Genesis 8:1–22 recounts the disembarking and Noah’s sacrifice. Genesis 8:1 is the structural and theological center, with God fulfilling (= “remember”) his covenant promise for Noah’s safety. The ark rests on one mountain within the range in eastern Turkey (Kurdistan). The earth’s drying occurs as a process (8:3, 5, 9, 11, 13, 14), and echoes of creation reappear (e.g., “wind” [8:1; cf. 1:2]). Although the old curse is not lifted (cf. 5:29), God promises not to add to it (8:21). The flood has not reformed the human heart; it has only stopped the violence. God’s oath of restoration reaffirms the seamless rhythm of seasons that comprise a full year (8:22).
Genesis 9:1–19 recounts the restoration of world order. Since murder was part of the antediluvian violence (6:11, 13), God’s law recalibrates earthly morality (9:5). God’s second postdiluvian speech encodes his plan for the broader preservation of creation (9:8–17). “My rainbow” is God’s confirming sign (9:13). The meteorological phenomenon of the storm is now harnessed as an image of peace. The cosmic warrior “hangs up” his bow in divine disarmament. Humankind now shares the responsibility of justice with God, illustrated in Noah’s first speech of cursing and blessing (9:20–27).
Ancient Near Eastern parallels. Without literary dependence on the biblical story, parallels to the biblical account exist in the Akkadian Atrahasis Epic, Gilgamesh Tablet XI, and the Sumerian King List. The exact relationship between the biblical account and these Near Eastern accounts is a debated subject. Perhaps they are variants of a similar story based on the same historical event.
Recounted in Gen. 6:5–9:19, the flood is the event whereby God destroys all creatures except for Noah, his family, and a gathering of animals. The account is highly literary and God-centered. It opens and closes with Noah’s three sons (6:10; 9:18–19). Noah’s obedience is highlighted (7:5, 9, 16). God is the protagonist, and Noah remains silent.
Terminology. The Hebrew word for “flood” is mabbul, and the Greek word is kataklysmos. Outside of the Gen. 6–9 narrative and references to the flood in Gen. 10:1, 32; 11:10, mabbul occurs only in Ps. 29:10, probably a reference to the primordial water stored above the firmament in jars (cf. Gen. 1:7; 7:11). The LXX translates mabbul with kataklysmos in Sir. 40:10; 44:17–18; 4 Macc. 15:31. Hebrew Sirach and the Aramaic Genesis Apocryphon also use mabbul for the flood (Sir. 44:17; 1QapGen ar 12:9–10). All four uses of kataklysmos in the NT refer to the flood (Matt. 24:38–39; Luke 17:27; 2 Pet. 2:5).
The flood narrative. In Gen. 6:5–22, God observes the grand scale of human wickedness, determines to destroy all life, and selects righteous Noah to build an ark. God’s “seeing” is judicial investigation (6:5, 13) that counters the sons of God who “saw” (6:2), just as his pained heart counters humankind’s wicked heart (6:5–6). God’s second statement, “I will wipe from the face of the earth the human race” (6:7), is his judicial sentence (cf. 3:15–19), affecting all life in the domain of human care (1:28; cf. Job 38:41; Ps. 36:6; Hos. 4:3; Joel 1:20).
The earth’s corruption and violence (Gen. 6:12–13) reflect a spectrum of evil that has despoiled a creation that was once “very good” (1:31; cf. 6:17; 7:21; 8:17; 9:11). God’s destruction responds to the moral corruption of the earth. The ark is a rectangular vessel designed for floating rather than sailing (6:14–15). Noah builds a microcosm of the earth to save its life. The boat’s windowlike openings and three decks reflect the cosmology of Gen. 1 (heavens, water, earth [cf. 6:16]). God makes a promise that Noah will survive and receive a covenant from God (6:18), fulfilled in the Noahic covenant following the flood (9:9, 11, 14–17).
Genesis 7:1–24 recounts the boarding of the ark and then the rising waters. Two numbering systems are used by the narrator in the flood narrative: one for dates of Noah’s age (day, month, year) and one for periods between flood stages. Both systems number between 365 and 370 days. The flood is portrayed as a reversal of the second and third days of creation. Watery boundaries that God once separated collapse (cf. 1:6–10). The rising flood is described in three phases: rising and lifting the ark (7:17), increasing greatly and floating the ark on the surface (7:18), and covering all the high mountains (7:19). Total destruction is amplified by reversing the order of creation—people, animals, birds (7:23)—with “all/every” occurring repeatedly in 7:21–23.
Genesis 8:1–22 recounts the disembarking and Noah’s sacrifice. Genesis 8:1 is the structural and theological center, with God fulfilling (= “remember”) his covenant promise for Noah’s safety. The ark rests on one mountain within the range in eastern Turkey (Kurdistan). The earth’s drying occurs as a process (8:3, 5, 9, 11, 13, 14), and echoes of creation reappear (e.g., “wind” [8:1; cf. 1:2]). Although the old curse is not lifted (cf. 5:29), God promises not to add to it (8:21). The flood has not reformed the human heart; it has only stopped the violence. God’s oath of restoration reaffirms the seamless rhythm of seasons that comprise a full year (8:22).
Genesis 9:1–19 recounts the restoration of world order. Since murder was part of the antediluvian violence (6:11, 13), God’s law recalibrates earthly morality (9:5). God’s second postdiluvian speech encodes his plan for the broader preservation of creation (9:8–17). “My rainbow” is God’s confirming sign (9:13). The meteorological phenomenon of the storm is now harnessed as an image of peace. The cosmic warrior “hangs up” his bow in divine disarmament. Humankind now shares the responsibility of justice with God, illustrated in Noah’s first speech of cursing and blessing (9:20–27).
Ancient Near Eastern parallels. Without literary dependence on the biblical story, parallels to the biblical account exist in the Akkadian Atrahasis Epic, Gilgamesh Tablet XI, and the Sumerian King List. The exact relationship between the biblical account and these Near Eastern accounts is a debated subject. Perhaps they are variants of a similar story based on the same historical event.
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).
A collection of 150 poems. They are the hymnbook of the OT period, used in public worship. Psalms contains songs of different lengths, types, and dates. The earliest psalm (Ps. 90) is attributed to Moses (mid-second millennium BC), while the content of Ps. 126 and Ps. 137 points to the latest periods of the OT (mid-first millennium BC). They continue to be used as a source of public worship and private devotion.
Historical Background
Most psalms have a title. In the Hebrew text this title comprises the first verse, whereas English translations set it off before the first verse. Titles vary. Many name an author (e.g., David [Ps. 3]; Asaph [Ps. 77]; sons of Korah [Ps. 42]), while others provide information about genre (e.g., Psalms of Ascent [Pss. 120–134]), tune (e.g., “Do Not Destroy” [Ps. 75]), use in worship (Ps. 92), and a circumstance that led to composition (Ps. 51). Information in the title gives hints concerning how psalms were written and brought into a final collection.
Composition
As mentioned, the titles of the psalms often give indications of authorship and occasionally name the circumstance that led to the writing of the psalm. A good example is Ps. 51, where the title states, “For the director of music. A psalm of David. When the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba.” The title connects the psalm with the events recorded in 2 Sam. 11–12 and suggests that David wrote the song in response to his sin and Nathan’s confrontation.
Although only a handful of the psalms have such a historical title, it is likely that most psalms were composed in response to some specific circumstance that encouraged the author to write. Interestingly, though, the psalmists do not speak about the specific circumstance in the psalm itself. Psalm 51, for instance, fits perfectly with the situation that the title describes in that it expresses guilt toward God and asks for forgiveness, but nowhere does it speak specifically about adultery. The psalmists do this intentionally because they are writing the song not as a memorial to an event, but rather as a prayer that others who have had similar though not identical experiences can use after them. Thus, Ps. 51 has been used as a model prayer for many penitents, whether they have sinned like David or in another way.
Most modern hymns have a similar background. John Newton, for instance, was inspired to write “Amazing Grace” because of awe that he felt at his conversion to Christianity from the evil of being a slave trader. However, when he wrote it, he wanted others to sing it as reflecting not on his conversion but on their own.
Collection
The psalms were composed over a thousand-year period. Thus, it appears that the book of Psalms was a growing collection until it came to a close at an unknown time between the writing of the two Testaments.
In 1 Chron. 16:7–36 we may get a glimpse of how the process worked. The text describes David turning a musical composition over to the Levitical musician Asaph and his associates. It is likely that the priests kept an official copy of the book of Psalms in the holy place (the temple while it stood). The psalms, after all, were the hymns of ancient Israel. Their primary function was as a corporate book of prayer, though certainly they could be used in private devotions (note Hannah’s prayer in 1 Sam. 2:1–10 and its relationship to Ps. 113).
Organization and Structure
The psalms have no obvious organization that explains the location of all the psalms. They are not organized in terms of genre, authorship, time of composition, or length. There is only one statement about organization, found in Ps. 72:20: “This concludes the prayers of David son of Jesse.” In the light of this comment, it is surprising that a number of Davidic psalms appear in subsequent sections (Pss. 101; 103; 108–110; 122; 124; 131; 133; 138–145). The best explanation is that at one point Ps. 72 concluded the Davidic psalms, but there was a reorganization before the canonical order was permanently closed.
A number of contemporary theories try to find some deep structure to the book, but it is best to refrain from speculation in regard to the overall structure. Nonetheless, a few structural characteristics are obvious. First, the division of Psalms into five books seems to reflect the fivefold division of the Pentateuch:
I. Book 1 (Pss. 1–41)
II. Book 2 (Pss. 42–72)
III. Book 3 (Pss. 73–89)
IV. Book 4 (Pss. 90–106)
V. Book 5 (Pss. 107–150)
Each book ends with a doxology. Such an intentional association with the Pentateuch would lend support to the Psalter’s claim to authority. Although these are prayers to God, they are also God’s word.
Second, within the Psalter there are subcollections. That is, there are psalms that came into the book not individually but as a group. The best-known such group are the Psalms of Ascent (Pss. 120–134), probably so named because worshipers sang them while going up (ascending) to the Temple Mount during one of the annual religious festivals in Jerusalem.
Third, it appears that psalms are intentionally placed at the beginning and at the end of the book to serve as an introduction and a conclusion. Psalms 1–2 serve as an introduction that alerts the reader to the twin important themes of law and messiah. Psalm 1 pronounces a blessing on those who love God’s law. The psalms, after all, are an intimate and personal conversation with God. One must be on the side of the godly to enter such a holy textual space, just as one must be godly to enter the precincts of the temple. After the reader enters, Psalm 2 provides an encounter with God and his anointed one (messiah). At the end of the book, the last five psalms (Pss. 146–150) constitute a tremendous doxology of praise.
This leads to the final observation on structure. Psalms of lament predominate at the beginning of the book, but they give way to hymns of praise toward the end. It is almost as if one enters the Psalter mourning and leaves it praising. Indeed, the Psalter brings the reader into contact with God and thus transforms the reader from sadness to joy.
Literary Considerations
Genre. The individual psalms may be identified as songs, prayers, or poems. Specifically, they are lyric poems (expressing the emotions of the poet), often addressed to God, and set to musical accompaniment. Although the categories overlap, seven different types of psalms can be recognized, with the first three being by far the most common.
• Lament. The largest single group of psalms are the laments, characterized by the expression of unhappy emotions: sadness, disappointment, anger, worry. The lamenters call on God to save them, even while at times complaining about God’s actions toward them (Ps. 42:9–10). Some laments contain petitions for forgiveness (Ps. 51), while others assert innocence of any wrongdoing (Ps. 26). A few laments even contain curses directed toward the enemies who are trying to harm the psalmist (Ps. 69:19–28). Most laments end by praising God or reaffirming confidence in God (Ps. 130:7–8). Usually the reason for the change from mourning to rejoicing is not given, but Ps. 77 pinpoints the reason as the memory of God’s great salvation events in the past (vv. 10, 16–20). One psalm, Ps. 88, laments but never makes the turn, remaining in the pit of despair. Yet even here we have a glimmer of hope in that the one who laments is still speaking to God.
• Thanksgiving. When God answers a lament, the response is thanksgiving. Psalms of thanksgiving are very similar to hymns (see below), but they cite an earlier problem that God has addressed. Psalm 30 praises God for restoring the psalmist’s good fortune and health after he suffered due to his earlier arrogance that led him to forget God (vv. 6–7).
• Hymn. Hymns are psalms of unalloyed praise directed toward God. The psalmists often call for others to join their worship of God (Ps. 100).
• Remembrance. While many psalms evoke memories of God’s actions in the past (as the lament in Ps. 77 recalls the exodus), certain psalms focus on rehearsing the actions of God in the past. Psalm 136 is one of the most memorable examples. As a liturgical psalm, it recites a divine action (“[God] swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea” [v. 15]) followed by a congregational response (“His love endures forever”).
• Confidence. These psalms are defined by their mood of quiet trust in God even in the midst of trouble. They often present a reassuring image of God. The picture of God as a shepherd in Ps. 23 or as a mother in Ps. 131 are good examples.
• Wisdom. Some psalms meditate on the law (Pss. 1; 119) or have interests similar to those of wisdom literature, such as Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes (Pss. 49; 73).
• Kingship. A number of psalms praise God as king (Ps. 47) or the human king as his agent (Pss. 20–21) or both (Ps. 2).
Style. The psalms are poems, and so their style is characterized by the use of parallelism and figurative language. Poetry is also notable for its short lines. A poet packs a lot of meaning into very few words. So it is important to slow down and reflect on a psalm in order to derive its maximum effect. Besides brevity of expression, parallelism, and figurative language, poets create interest by using other literary tools. The psalmists use these poetic devices not only to inform their readers’ intellect but also to stimulate their imagination and arouse their emotions. (See also Acrostic; Imagery; Poetry.)
Theological Message
Although the psalms are not theological essays, readers can learn about God and their relationship with God from these poems. The book of Psalms is a bit like a portrait gallery of God, using images to describe who he is and the nature of our relationship with him. Some examples include God as shepherd (Ps. 23), king (Ps. 47), warrior (Ps. 98), and mother (Ps. 131), and the list could be greatly expanded. Each one of these picture images casts light on the nature of God and also the nature of our relationship with God. After all, the aforementioned psalms explicitly or implicitly describe God’s people as sheep, subjects, soldiers, and children.
Connection to the New Testament and Today
Jesus himself draws attention to Psalms as a book that anticipated his coming suffering and glorification (Luke 24:25–27, 44). The Gospels recognized that Jesus’ zeal for God was well expressed by Ps. 69:9 (John 2:17). When at the apex of his suffering on the cross, Jesus uttered the words found in Ps. 22:1 (Matt. 27:46). The NT writers also saw that Jesus was the fulfillment of the covenant that promised that a son of David would have an everlasting throne (2 Sam. 7:16). Accordingly, the royal psalms (e.g., Pss. 2; 110) often were applied to Jesus, who is the Messiah (the Christ, “the anointed one”).
Today we read Psalms not only as an ancient witness to the coming work of Christ but also, as John Calvin put it, as a mirror of our souls. The psalms were written for worshipers who came after them with similar though not identical joys and problems. The psalms should become models of our prayers.
The Hebrew expression “sons of God” (often translated as “children of God” in contemporary usage) is an important biblical concept and is used to describe a range of referents.
In the OT, the term is used to refer to angels (e.g., Job 1:6). They are subordinate divine beings, carrying out God’s mission on earth (Job 2:1). Compared to them, Yahweh’s incomparability is asserted in divine council (Ps. 89:6; cf. Deut. 32:8 NIV mg.). They are called upon to praise Yahweh for his creation (Ps. 29:1). They shout for joy at God’s creation (Job 38:7). In Gen. 6:2 the term refers to beings that are apparently of divine origin and to be contrasted with the “daughters of men” in that same passage. The sin mentioned in this passage refers to the cohabitation of divine beings and humans. This union is one of the impetuses for the flood, an indication of how bad things had gotten. The “order” of creation (Gen. 1), where humans are meant to be fruitful with their own kind, is here transgressed. Hence, God introduces further disorder by bringing back the waters of chaos to flood the earth.
Israel as a covenant nation is called “my son, my firstborn” by Yahweh (Exod. 4:22; Jer. 31:9; Hos. 11:1). As son, Israel is expected to give proper reverence and honor for his father (Mal. 1:6). Although only one of many metaphors for Israel in the OT, Israel’s status as son is important for understanding the movement of the book of Exodus. Israel is to be delivered from Egyptian rule because Israel is God’s son. If Pharaoh continues to mistreat Israel, God will call judgment upon Egypt’s firstborn, as he did in the plague of death and the Red Sea incident.
Sonship is not exclusive to Israel. The Gentiles are also included in the future of God’s program (Isa. 19:25; Zech. 14:16). Likewise, in the NT all humans are God’s children (Eph. 4:6). More often, though, the term refers to those who are in Christ. The bond is spiritual, and often the concept of adoption is used (John 1:12; Rom. 9:6; Gal. 3:26; 4:5–7; 1 John 5:1). See also Sons of God
The KJV translates as “unicorn” the Hebrew word re’em, referring to a “wild ox” (NIV). The KJV was following the Vulgate’s Latin word unicornis (Pss. 22:21; 29:6; 92:10; Isa. 34:7; cf. Lat. rinoceros in Num. 23:22; 24:8; Deut. 33:17; Job 39:9–10) and the LXX’s monokerōs. Legends about this fantastic animal flourished in the Middle Ages.
Water is mentioned extensively in the Bible due to its prevalence in creation and its association with life and purity. The cosmic waters of Gen. 1 are held back by the sky (Gen. 1:6–7; cf. Pss. 104:6, 13; 148:4). God is enthroned on these waters in his cosmic temple (Pss. 29:10; 104:3, 13; cf. Gen. 1:2; Ps. 78:69; Isa. 66:1). These same waters were released in the time of Noah (Gen. 7:10–12; Ps. 104:7–9).
Water is also an agent of life and fertility and is therefore associated with the presence of God. Both God himself and his temple are described as the source of life-giving water (Jer. 2:13; 17:13; Joel 3:18; cf. Isa. 12:2–3). Ezekiel envisions this water flowing from beneath the temple and streaming down into the Dead Sea, where it brings life and fecundity (Ezek. 47:1–12; cf. Zech. 14:8). The book of Revelation, employing the same image, describes “the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb” (22:1). This imagery is also illustrated in archaeological remains associated with temples. Cisterns are attested beneath the Dome of the Rock (presumably the location of the Jerusalem temple) and beneath the Judahite temple at Arad. Other temples, such as the Israelite high place at Tel Dan, are located close to freshwater springs. The Gihon Spring in the City of David may also be associated with the Jerusalem temple (Ps. 46:4; cf. Gen. 2:13).
This OT imagery forms the background for Jesus’ teaching regarding eternal life in the writings of the apostle John. Jesus claims to be the source of living water, and he offers it freely to everyone who thirsts (John 4:10–15; 7:37; Rev. 21:6; 22:17; cf. Rev. 7:17). This water, which produces “a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:14), is the work of the Holy Spirit in the believer (John 7:38–39).
Water is also described in the Bible as an agent of cleansing. It is extensively employed in purification rituals in the OT. In the NT, the ritual of water baptism signifies the purity and new life of the believer (Matt. 3:11, 16; Mark 1:8–10; Luke 3:16; John 1:26, 31–33; 3:23; Acts 1:5; 8:36–39; 10:47; 11:16; 1 Pet. 3:20–21; cf. Eph. 5:26; Heb. 10:22).
Finally, the NT also reveals Jesus as the Lord of water. He walks on water (Matt. 14:28–29; John 6:19), turns water into wine (John 2:7–9; 4:46), and controls water creatures (Matt. 17:27; John 21:6). Most important, Jesus commands “the winds and the water, and they obey him” (Luke 8:25; cf. Ps. 29:3).
Secondary Matches
The following suggestions occured because Psalm 29:1-11 is mentioned in the definition.
A West Semitic weather and warrior deity. There is evidence that “Baal,” meaning “lord,” was a proper name for a deity as early as the third millennium BC and may have been identified with the god Hadad.
Excavations from the city of Ugarit have uncovered second-millennium BC texts dealing with the cult and mythology of Baal. These texts depict Baal as a god of weather and storm whose provision of precipitation ensures the seasonal cycles of crops. The Baal Cycle from Ugarit also depicts him defeating Yamm, the god of the sea, and Mot, the god of death. Some of these associations shed light on polemics against Baal in the OT. Yahweh’s withholding rain at Elijah’s request (1 Kings 17:1), for example, undermines Baal’s claim to control the weather. Further, descriptions of Yahweh as a storm god, such as Ps. 29, may be understood as polemical statements that Yahweh, not Baal, is the one who really controls the storm.
The worship of Baal alongside Yahweh received official sponsorship in Israel under Ahab (1 Kings 16:31–33) and in Judah under Manasseh (2 Kings 10:18–27). The worship of this deity was grounds for the exile of Israel (2 Kings 17:16).
A collection of 150 poems. They are the hymnbook of the OT period, used in public worship. Psalms contains songs of different lengths, types, and dates. The earliest psalm (Ps. 90) is attributed to Moses (mid-second millennium BC), while the content of Ps. 126 and Ps. 137 points to the latest periods of the OT (mid-first millennium BC). They continue to be used as a source of public worship and private devotion.
Historical Background
Most psalms have a title. In the Hebrew text this title comprises the first verse, whereas English translations set it off before the first verse. Titles vary. Many name an author (e.g., David [Ps. 3]; Asaph [Ps. 77]; sons of Korah [Ps. 42]), while others provide information about genre (e.g., Psalms of Ascent [Pss. 120–134]), tune (e.g., “Do Not Destroy” [Ps. 75]), use in worship (Ps. 92), and a circumstance that led to composition (Ps. 51). Information in the title gives hints concerning how psalms were written and brought into a final collection.
Composition
As mentioned, the titles of the psalms often give indications of authorship and occasionally name the circumstance that led to the writing of the psalm. A good example is Ps. 51, where the title states, “For the director of music. A psalm of David. When the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba.” The title connects the psalm with the events recorded in 2 Sam. 11–12 and suggests that David wrote the song in response to his sin and Nathan’s confrontation.
Although only a handful of the psalms have such a historical title, it is likely that most psalms were composed in response to some specific circumstance that encouraged the author to write. Interestingly, though, the psalmists do not speak about the specific circumstance in the psalm itself. Psalm 51, for instance, fits perfectly with the situation that the title describes in that it expresses guilt toward God and asks for forgiveness, but nowhere does it speak specifically about adultery. The psalmists do this intentionally because they are writing the song not as a memorial to an event, but rather as a prayer that others who have had similar though not identical experiences can use after them. Thus, Ps. 51 has been used as a model prayer for many penitents, whether they have sinned like David or in another way.
Most modern hymns have a similar background. John Newton, for instance, was inspired to write “Amazing Grace” because of awe that he felt at his conversion to Christianity from the evil of being a slave trader. However, when he wrote it, he wanted others to sing it as reflecting not on his conversion but on their own.
Collection
The psalms were composed over a thousand-year period. Thus, it appears that the book of Psalms was a growing collection until it came to a close at an unknown time between the writing of the two Testaments.
In 1 Chron. 16:7–36 we may get a glimpse of how the process worked. The text describes David turning a musical composition over to the Levitical musician Asaph and his associates. It is likely that the priests kept an official copy of the book of Psalms in the holy place (the temple while it stood). The psalms, after all, were the hymns of ancient Israel. Their primary function was as a corporate book of prayer, though certainly they could be used in private devotions (note Hannah’s prayer in 1 Sam. 2:1–10 and its relationship to Ps. 113).
Organization and Structure
The psalms have no obvious organization that explains the location of all the psalms. They are not organized in terms of genre, authorship, time of composition, or length. There is only one statement about organization, found in Ps. 72:20: “This concludes the prayers of David son of Jesse.” In the light of this comment, it is surprising that a number of Davidic psalms appear in subsequent sections (Pss. 101; 103; 108–110; 122; 124; 131; 133; 138–145). The best explanation is that at one point Ps. 72 concluded the Davidic psalms, but there was a reorganization before the canonical order was permanently closed.
A number of contemporary theories try to find some deep structure to the book, but it is best to refrain from speculation in regard to the overall structure. Nonetheless, a few structural characteristics are obvious. First, the division of Psalms into five books seems to reflect the fivefold division of the Pentateuch:
I. Book 1 (Pss. 1–41)
II. Book 2 (Pss. 42–72)
III. Book 3 (Pss. 73–89)
IV. Book 4 (Pss. 90–106)
V. Book 5 (Pss. 107–150)
Each book ends with a doxology. Such an intentional association with the Pentateuch would lend support to the Psalter’s claim to authority. Although these are prayers to God, they are also God’s word.
Second, within the Psalter there are subcollections. That is, there are psalms that came into the book not individually but as a group. The best-known such group are the Psalms of Ascent (Pss. 120–134), probably so named because worshipers sang them while going up (ascending) to the Temple Mount during one of the annual religious festivals in Jerusalem.
Third, it appears that psalms are intentionally placed at the beginning and at the end of the book to serve as an introduction and a conclusion. Psalms 1–2 serve as an introduction that alerts the reader to the twin important themes of law and messiah. Psalm 1 pronounces a blessing on those who love God’s law. The psalms, after all, are an intimate and personal conversation with God. One must be on the side of the godly to enter such a holy textual space, just as one must be godly to enter the precincts of the temple. After the reader enters, Psalm 2 provides an encounter with God and his anointed one (messiah). At the end of the book, the last five psalms (Pss. 146–150) constitute a tremendous doxology of praise.
This leads to the final observation on structure. Psalms of lament predominate at the beginning of the book, but they give way to hymns of praise toward the end. It is almost as if one enters the Psalter mourning and leaves it praising. Indeed, the Psalter brings the reader into contact with God and thus transforms the reader from sadness to joy.
Literary Considerations
Genre. The individual psalms may be identified as songs, prayers, or poems. Specifically, they are lyric poems (expressing the emotions of the poet), often addressed to God, and set to musical accompaniment. Although the categories overlap, seven different types of psalms can be recognized, with the first three being by far the most common.
• Lament. The largest single group of psalms are the laments, characterized by the expression of unhappy emotions: sadness, disappointment, anger, worry. The lamenters call on God to save them, even while at times complaining about God’s actions toward them (Ps. 42:9–10). Some laments contain petitions for forgiveness (Ps. 51), while others assert innocence of any wrongdoing (Ps. 26). A few laments even contain curses directed toward the enemies who are trying to harm the psalmist (Ps. 69:19–28). Most laments end by praising God or reaffirming confidence in God (Ps. 130:7–8). Usually the reason for the change from mourning to rejoicing is not given, but Ps. 77 pinpoints the reason as the memory of God’s great salvation events in the past (vv. 10, 16–20). One psalm, Ps. 88, laments but never makes the turn, remaining in the pit of despair. Yet even here we have a glimmer of hope in that the one who laments is still speaking to God.
• Thanksgiving. When God answers a lament, the response is thanksgiving. Psalms of thanksgiving are very similar to hymns (see below), but they cite an earlier problem that God has addressed. Psalm 30 praises God for restoring the psalmist’s good fortune and health after he suffered due to his earlier arrogance that led him to forget God (vv. 6–7).
• Hymn. Hymns are psalms of unalloyed praise directed toward God. The psalmists often call for others to join their worship of God (Ps. 100).
• Remembrance. While many psalms evoke memories of God’s actions in the past (as the lament in Ps. 77 recalls the exodus), certain psalms focus on rehearsing the actions of God in the past. Psalm 136 is one of the most memorable examples. As a liturgical psalm, it recites a divine action (“[God] swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea” [v. 15]) followed by a congregational response (“His love endures forever”).
• Confidence. These psalms are defined by their mood of quiet trust in God even in the midst of trouble. They often present a reassuring image of God. The picture of God as a shepherd in Ps. 23 or as a mother in Ps. 131 are good examples.
• Wisdom. Some psalms meditate on the law (Pss. 1; 119) or have interests similar to those of wisdom literature, such as Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes (Pss. 49; 73).
• Kingship. A number of psalms praise God as king (Ps. 47) or the human king as his agent (Pss. 20–21) or both (Ps. 2).
Style. The psalms are poems, and so their style is characterized by the use of parallelism and figurative language. Poetry is also notable for its short lines. A poet packs a lot of meaning into very few words. So it is important to slow down and reflect on a psalm in order to derive its maximum effect. Besides brevity of expression, parallelism, and figurative language, poets create interest by using other literary tools. The psalmists use these poetic devices not only to inform their readers’ intellect but also to stimulate their imagination and arouse their emotions. (See also Acrostic; Imagery; Poetry.)
Theological Message
Although the psalms are not theological essays, readers can learn about God and their relationship with God from these poems. The book of Psalms is a bit like a portrait gallery of God, using images to describe who he is and the nature of our relationship with him. Some examples include God as shepherd (Ps. 23), king (Ps. 47), warrior (Ps. 98), and mother (Ps. 131), and the list could be greatly expanded. Each one of these picture images casts light on the nature of God and also the nature of our relationship with God. After all, the aforementioned psalms explicitly or implicitly describe God’s people as sheep, subjects, soldiers, and children.
Connection to the New Testament and Today
Jesus himself draws attention to Psalms as a book that anticipated his coming suffering and glorification (Luke 24:25–27, 44). The Gospels recognized that Jesus’ zeal for God was well expressed by Ps. 69:9 (John 2:17). When at the apex of his suffering on the cross, Jesus uttered the words found in Ps. 22:1 (Matt. 27:46). The NT writers also saw that Jesus was the fulfillment of the covenant that promised that a son of David would have an everlasting throne (2 Sam. 7:16). Accordingly, the royal psalms (e.g., Pss. 2; 110) often were applied to Jesus, who is the Messiah (the Christ, “the anointed one”).
Today we read Psalms not only as an ancient witness to the coming work of Christ but also, as John Calvin put it, as a mirror of our souls. The psalms were written for worshipers who came after them with similar though not identical joys and problems. The psalms should become models of our prayers.
The huge bronze basin that was placed in the courtyard of Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 7:23–26; 2 Chron. 4:2–6 KJV, NRSV [NIV: “Sea of cast metal”]). It was approximately fifteen feet in diameter, seven and a half feet in height, and forty-five feet in circumference. There is a discrepancy in the biblical texts as to how much water it could contain, but it was probably anywhere from ten to fifteen thousand gallons. It rested on twelve cast bulls, three each facing north, west, east, and south. It was ornamented on the outside with figures of bulls and gourds. Scholars estimate that empty it would have weighed between twenty-five and thirty tons.
Functionally, the molten sea served as a basin for priests to wash in (2 Chron. 4:6), but most scholars are convinced that an even greater symbolic value was attached to it. Throughout the ancient Near East, gods were conceived of as having won great victories over the primeval waters. The God of Israel is portrayed this way as well in the OT, especially in the Psalter (Pss. 29:3, 10; 65:7; 74:13; 77:16; 89:9; 93:3–4; 104:7). The presence of the molten sea in the courtyard of the temple would have reminded worshipers of God’s sovereignty over the sea, the forces of nature, and over all the nations (see Ps. 65:7).
The huge bronze basin that was placed in the courtyard of Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 7:23–26; 2 Chron. 4:2–6 KJV, NRSV [NIV: “Sea of cast metal”]). It was approximately fifteen feet in diameter, seven and a half feet in height, and forty-five feet in circumference. There is a discrepancy in the biblical texts as to how much water it could contain, but it was probably anywhere from ten to fifteen thousand gallons. It rested on twelve cast bulls, three each facing north, west, east, and south. It was ornamented on the outside with figures of bulls and gourds. Scholars estimate that empty it would have weighed between twenty-five and thirty tons.
Functionally, the molten sea served as a basin for priests to wash in (2 Chron. 4:6), but most scholars are convinced that an even greater symbolic value was attached to it. Throughout the ancient Near East, gods were conceived of as having won great victories over the primeval waters. The God of Israel is portrayed this way as well in the OT, especially in the Psalter (Pss. 29:3, 10; 65:7; 74:13; 77:16; 89:9; 93:3–4; 104:7). The presence of the molten sea in the courtyard of the temple would have reminded worshipers of God’s sovereignty over the sea, the forces of nature, and over all the nations (see Ps. 65:7).
The huge bronze basin that was placed in the courtyard of Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 7:23–26; 2 Chron. 4:2–6 KJV, NRSV [NIV: “Sea of cast metal”]). It was approximately fifteen feet in diameter, seven and a half feet in height, and forty-five feet in circumference. There is a discrepancy in the biblical texts as to how much water it could contain, but it was probably anywhere from ten to fifteen thousand gallons. It rested on twelve cast bulls, three each facing north, west, east, and south. It was ornamented on the outside with figures of bulls and gourds. Scholars estimate that empty it would have weighed between twenty-five and thirty tons.
Functionally, the molten sea served as a basin for priests to wash in (2 Chron. 4:6), but most scholars are convinced that an even greater symbolic value was attached to it. Throughout the ancient Near East, gods were conceived of as having won great victories over the primeval waters. The God of Israel is portrayed this way as well in the OT, especially in the Psalter (Pss. 29:3, 10; 65:7; 74:13; 77:16; 89:9; 93:3–4; 104:7). The presence of the molten sea in the courtyard of the temple would have reminded worshipers of God’s sovereignty over the sea, the forces of nature, and over all the nations (see Ps. 65:7).
The Hebrew expression “sons of God” (often translated as “children of God” in contemporary usage) is an important biblical concept and is used to describe a range of referents.
In the OT, the term is used to refer to angels (e.g., Job 1:6). They are subordinate divine beings, carrying out God’s mission on earth (Job 2:1). Compared to them, Yahweh’s incomparability is asserted in divine council (Ps. 89:6; cf. Deut. 32:8 NIV mg.). They are called upon to praise Yahweh for his creation (Ps. 29:1). They shout for joy at God’s creation (Job 38:7). In Gen. 6:2 the term refers to beings that are apparently of divine origin and to be contrasted with the “daughters of men” in that same passage. The sin mentioned in this passage refers to the cohabitation of divine beings and humans. This union is one of the impetuses for the flood, an indication of how bad things had gotten. The “order” of creation (Gen. 1), where humans are meant to be fruitful with their own kind, is here transgressed. Hence, God introduces further disorder by bringing back the waters of chaos to flood the earth.
Israel as a covenant nation is called “my son, my firstborn” by Yahweh (Exod. 4:22; Jer. 31:9; Hos. 11:1). As son, Israel is expected to give proper reverence and honor for his father (Mal. 1:6). Although only one of many metaphors for Israel in the OT, Israel’s status as son is important for understanding the movement of the book of Exodus. Israel is to be delivered from Egyptian rule because Israel is God’s son. If Pharaoh continues to mistreat Israel, God will call judgment upon Egypt’s firstborn, as he did in the plague of death and the Red Sea incident.
Sonship is not exclusive to Israel. The Gentiles are also included in the future of God’s program (Isa. 19:25; Zech. 14:16). Likewise, in the NT all humans are God’s children (Eph. 4:6). More often, though, the term refers to those who are in Christ. The bond is spiritual, and often the concept of adoption is used (John 1:12; Rom. 9:6; Gal. 3:26; 4:5–7; 1 John 5:1). See also Sons of God
A region in the extreme southeast of the land of Judah, forming a boundary between the land of Israel and that of Edom (Num. 34:3; Josh. 15:1, 3). This desert or wilderness is the same as the Desert of Kadesh (Num. 33:36; Ps. 29:8). There is also a town of Zin located in this wilderness, which most likely is the origin of the name (Num. 34:4). The Israelite spies started from Zin and traveled northward to scout the promised land (Num. 13:21). The region is also the location of the waters of Meribah Kadesh, where Moses disobeyed God and struck the rock for water (Num. 27:14; Deut. 32:51). It is also the place where Miriam died (Num. 20:1). It is not to be confused with the Desert of Sin.
The doe symbolizes feminine fecundity and beauty (Prov. 5:19; Song 2:7) and the flourishing of the recipient with God’s protection and blessings (2 Sam. 22:34; Hab. 3:19). The doe symbolizes the tribe of Naphtali in Gen. 49:21. The calving of does was viewed as something that occurred under the providence of God (Job 39:1; Jer. 14:5; and in some translations of Ps. 29:9 [e.g., NASB: “The voice of the Lord makes the deer to calve”], though the NIV and other versions translate an emended text). One psalm had an accompaniment (possibly a musical melody) called “The Doe of the Morning” (Ps. 22 superscription).
The concept of health is translated by no less than twelve different words in the Bible, incorporating the physical, social, and spiritual dimensions of life. Perhaps the most inclusive biblical term for health is the Hebrew word shalom, often translated “peace,” which embraces both the private (health, wholeness, prosperity, deliverance) and public (friendship, absence of war) spheres of life, with the basic sense of wholeness and well-being (e.g., Lev. 26:6; Num. 6:26; Pss. 7:4; 29:11; Prov. 14:30; Lam. 3:17). Shalom is God’s presence and favor toward his people, who share these graces with their neighbors (Matt. 10:13; John 14:26–27).
Physically, a healthy person enjoys fullness of body (Ps. 73:4; Dan. 1:15), without being overweight (Judg. 3:17). John the elder wishes Gaius “good health” (hygiainō) in 3 John 2. Another quality is a sound mind, the ability to produce benefit for others and cope with loss and suffering. Oppression and poverty hinder well-being. Health is also a joyous feeling of restoration after illness (Isa. 38:16). The Greek adjective hygiēs (“whole,” “healthy”) and related verb hygiainō (“be whole/healthy”) are commonly used of the results of healing in the Gospels (e.g., Matt. 12:13; 15:31; Luke 5:31; 7:10; John 5:9, 11).
Scripture also presumes a spiritual component to health (Ps. 38:3; Prov. 3:7–8). Although the Gospels distinguish illness from demonic oppression, the line is not as thick as we find in the works of Hippocrates (c. 460–370 BC), the father of Western medicine, who argues that diseases have natural origins. The gospel unequivocally denies ultimate well-being without reconciliation between the Creator and the creation, source and derivation, God and human being.
A KJV phrase used to describe the heavenly bodies or heavenly beings. The NIV prefers “starry host(s),” “multitudes of heaven,” or “stars in the heavens/sky,” but “host of the heavens” does occur in Dan. 8:10. The Hebrew phrase, tseba’ hashamayim, means literally “army of the heavens.” The connection between the celestial elements and an army comes in conjunction with God’s role as the commander of the Israelite forces (Josh. 5:13–15; Judg. 5:23). There are times when the Bible portrays the celestial elements as part of God’s military retinue, fighting on his behalf. The stars fight from heaven against Sisera (Judg. 5:20), and in the Israelites’ battle against the Amorites, the sun and the moon are commanded to stand still (Josh. 10:12–13; cf. Hab. 3:11). Based on these passages, the phrase may have had some military background, but it is also understood in other ways.
Perhaps one of the more enigmatic uses of the phrase occurs in 1 Kings 22:19 (cf. 2 Chron. 18:18; NIV: “multitudes of heaven”), where it describes God’s council. There are other biblical phrases used with more frequency to describe the heavenly council surrounding God. Other names for these beings include the “seraphim” of Isa. 6:2 and the “sons of God” in Job 1:6; 2:1; Pss. 29:1; 89:6. The connection between God’s council and the celestial elements likely comes, as noted above, through the heavenly bodies’ association with God in battle. Further solidifying this connection is Job 38:7, where the “sons of God” parallel the “morning stars.” Exactly what these heavenly beings are is debated, and many interpreters suggest the answer lies in the polytheistic context of Israel’s neighbors. Another possible explanation is to view these beings as the messengers or angels of God. The Bible portrays them as inferior beings (Deut. 3:24; 10:17; Jer. 10:6), and they function to serve and worship Yahweh (Pss. 29:1; 103:21; 148:2–3; Isa. 6:2). The angels who appear to the shepherds at Jesus’ birth are described as the “heavenly host” (Luke 2:13).
The last and most frequent use of the phrase “host of heaven” is to describe a condemned object of Israelite worship. It is likely that from their association with God’s council, these celestial elements gained an independent status and were worshiped apart from God. At times the “host of heaven” appears to refer to the stars alone; the NIV therefore translates it as “stars in the sky” (Deut. 17:3; Jer. 33:22; cf. Jer. 8:2) or “starry hosts” (2 Kings 23:5). At other times the phrase refers to the totality of the heavenly bodies (Deut. 4:19 [NIV: “heavenly array”]; cf. 2 Kings 21:3, 5). Based on the distribution of the phrase, and its occurrence primarily in documents narrating the Assyrian period (2 Kings 17:16; 21:3, 5; 23:4–5; Jer. 19:13; Zeph. 1:5), there is likely a direct correlation between the worship of the host of heaven and Israel’s Assyrian vassalage in the seventh century BC. The extent of Assyrian impact on Israelite religion is debated, but it is likely that astral worship—that is, worship of the starry hosts—flourished in this period due to the influence of the Assyrians, a culture entrenched in worship of the astral powers.
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).
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