The English word “angel” refers to nonhuman spirits, usually good. The biblical words usually translated “angel” (Heb. malak; Gk. angelos) mean “messenger” and can refer to one sent by God or by human beings. A messenger must be utterly loyal, reliable, and able to act confidentially (Prov. 13:17). The messenger speaks and acts in the name of the sender (Gen. 24).

Messengers sent by God are not always angels. Yahweh’s prophets were his messengers (Hag. 1:13), as were priests (Mal. 2:7).

Old Testament

There are few references to angels (plural) in the OT. In heaven they praise God and worship him (Pss. 103:20; 148:2). God sends his angels to accompany his people (Gen. 28:12; 32:1) and to protect them (Ps. 91:11) and once sent them to destroy Egypt (Ps. 78:49).

An angel in human form was referred to as a “man of God” (Judg. 13:6), the same term used for a prophet (cf. 1 Kings 13:14).

Angels evoked fear and wonder. They are described as shining (Matt. 28:3; Acts 12:7). When humans bowed to worship angels, they were rebuked because God alone is to be worshiped (Rev. 22:8–9).

God himself, not being a part of the created order, cannot be seen. In order to communicate with people, he sometimes speaks through a form called “the angel of the Lord.” The angel of the Lord appeared to Abraham in human form (Gen. 18; cf. Josh. 5:13–15), but to Moses as fire (Exod. 3:2). When he spoke, it was God speaking (Exod. 3:4, 14). He guided and guarded Israel out of Egypt and through the desert (23:20–23). He appeared within the pillar of fire or cloud (13:21–22; 14:19), being seen through the pillar on occasion as “the glory of the Lord” (16:7–10; 24:16–17; 33:9–11; 40:17, 34–38), and later as he filled Solomon’s temple (1 Kings 8:11).

In a series of visions of the glory of the Lord (Ps. 18:7–15; Ezek. 1; Rev. 4:7) we encounter four “living creatures” called “cherubim” (Ezek. 10:20–22) that are not explicitly identified as angels and whose visible appearance is part human and part animal. Their form was placed on the cover of the Ark of the Covenant (Exod. 25:18) and embroidered on the curtains of the tabernacle (26:1). Cherubim guarded the eastern entry into the garden of Eden (Gen. 3:24), implying that Eden, the place where God appeared on earth, was now excluded from the area allocated to humankind.

In Isaiah’s vision of God’s glory, he describes, literally, “flaming ones” (Heb. seraphim) located above God and crying, “Holy, holy, holy” (Isa. 6:1–7). All we know of them is that they had six wings, whereas the cherubim had four (Ezek. 1:11). It may be that seraphim are not a separate class of angels but simply a description appropriate to all angels, since elsewhere we are told (Ps. 104:4; Heb. 1:7) that God’s angels are “flames of fire.”

Angels are also called “holy ones” (Deut. 33:2) and “spirits” or “winds” (Zech. 6:5; cf. Ps. 104:4). Since God’s people are also called “holy ones” (Dan. 7:27; NIV: “holy people”), it may be difficult to know if a given reference is to angels or people (e.g., Deut. 33:3).

Angels are first named in the book of Daniel: Gabriel, whose name means “hero of God” (8:16; 9:21; [cf. Luke 1:19, 26]); Michael, whose name means “who is like God?” (10:13, 21; 12:1 [cf. Jude 9; Rev. 12:7]) and who is also called “one of the chief princes,” “your prince,” and “the great prince.” The Hebrew word for “prince” (sar) also means “commander” (e.g., 1 Sam. 17:55) and thus might refer to Michael’s standing as a commander of God’s angelic armies (cf. Jude 9, where he is called “archangel”). During the intertestamental period, texts outside the Scriptures tend to give more attention to angels in elaborate stories, introducing such names as Raphael and Uriel (see Tobit, 1 Enoch, etc.).

Intertestamental Period and New Testament

During the intertestamental period some Jews came to think that angels ranked higher than humans, since the Greeks asserted that anything physical was evil and only purely spiritual beings could be holy. Increasingly detailed stories about angels served to distance God from the evils of physical reality. The myth of the fall of the angels arose during this time through a series of writings claiming to come from the pen of Enoch (1 Enoch), stimulating a large number of other writings. Some people even went so far as to worship angels (Col. 2:18).

Some references to angels are difficult to understand. In Matt. 18:10 Jesus warns people to treat children well because their angels have constant access to God. The simplest meaning is that angelic messengers will tell God what has happened with these children. Rhoda’s reference to Peter’s “angel” as if it were his ghost probably reflects a local superstition (Acts 12:15) or a sectarian Jewish belief that the righteous become angels when they die. Paul’s comment that a woman should have “authority over her own head” (i.e., her head covered) “because of the angels” (1 Cor. 11:10) remains something of a puzzle, and his unique reference to the language of angels appears to be hyperbole (1 Cor. 13:1).

Paul warns us that Satan can appear as “an angel of light,” meaning that he would work through one who claimed to bring a message in accord with the gospel (2 Cor. 11:14). The devil has his “angels/messengers” (Matt. 25:41), although we know little about them.

Angels do not marry, reproduce, or die (Matt. 22:30; Mark 12:25; Luke 20:35–36). The NT affirms that angels rank below God’s people and serve them (1 Cor. 6:3; Heb.1:4–14; 2:5, 16), as they did Jesus (Matt. 4:11; Mark 1:13; cf. 1 Kings 19:5–7; Luke 22:43). Angels have limited understanding or knowledge of God’s plans and purposes (1 Pet. 1:12), although they reveal God’s word (Rev. 1:1). They bring the spirits of God’s people to heaven when they die (Luke 16:22) and implement God’s judgment on the last day (Matt. 13:39, 49; 16:27; 24:31; 25:31; Mark 8:38; 13:27; Luke 9:26; 2 Thess. 1:7; Rev. 14:15–19). They rejoice when a sinner repents (Luke 15:10). Christians already stand in the greater assembly that includes the angels (Heb.12:22). Eventually, Jesus will welcome his people into the heavenly courtroom in the presence of the angels (Luke 12:8–9; Rev. 3:5). See also Archangel.

A title designating members of the group of twelve disciples (Matt. 10:2–4; Mark 3:16–19; Luke 6:13–16) who received Jesus’ teaching (Luke 17:5) and to whom he granted authority (Mark 6:7, 30; Luke 9:1, 10). Matthias later replaced Judas Iscariot (Acts 1:24). These apostles provided leadership to the early church in Jerusalem (Acts 15:6), performed miracles (Acts 2:43; 2 Cor. 12:12), and faced persecution (Acts 5:18) as they testified to Jesus’ resurrection (Acts 4:33; 5:32). Broader usage of the term includes witnesses to Jesus’ resurrection (1 Cor. 15:7), James the brother of Jesus (Gal. 1:19), Barnabas and Paul (Acts 14:14), and possibly Silas (1 Thess. 2:6) and Andronicus and Junias/Junia (Rom. 16:7). Paul regularly speaks of his calling in apostolic terms (Rom. 1:1; 1 Cor. 1:1; 2 Cor. 1:1; Gal. 1:1; Eph. 1:1; Col. 1:1; 1 Tim. 1:1; 2 Tim. 1:1; Titus 1:1), while Peter similarly self-identifies (1 Pet. 1:1; 2 Pet. 1:1). The word is once used of Jesus himself (Heb. 3:1).

A region in northern Asia Minor bordering the Black Sea that, along with Pontus, was ruled as one province by the Romans. Paul and his missionary companions desired to enter Bithynia during his second missionary journey but were prevented from doing so by the Holy Spirit, so they traveled to Macedonia instead (Acts 16:7). The Christians in Bithynia received greetings from Peter (1 Pet. 1:1).

One of the many pictures of salvation that the Bible uses is new birth. Peter praises God because “he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Pet. 1:3). In his conversation with Nicodemus, Jesus states, “No one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again” (John 3:3). He goes on to explain further that this act of new birth is the work of the Spirit (John 3:5–8). What Jesus speaks of, God had promised in the OT (Ezek. 36:25–27). Paul uses similar language when he asserts that God “made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions” (Eph. 2:5). Because of our sinful rebellion against God, humanity is spiritually dead. God the Father makes alive those who are spiritually dead by the work of the Spirit through the resurrection of Jesus. This new birth is the starting point for the believer’s moral transformation. See also Regeneration.

The choice or selection of a person or group, especially God’s determination of who will be saved.

Terminology

On occasion, the language of being “elect” is used as a description of Christ, or perhaps even a title. Isaiah, in one of his Servant Songs, gives a description that is probably best taken as a veiled reference to Christ in his unique relationship with the Father: “Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen [or ‘elect’] one in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will bring justice to the nations” (Isa. 42:1). There is similar usage in the NT, where Jesus is described in 1 Pet. 2:6 (using a quotation from Isa. 28:16): “For in Scripture it says: ‘See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen [or ‘elect’] and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.’ ”

Many times the word “elect” is used in Scripture as a synonym for believers. For example, Jesus speaks of the future time when “he will send his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of the heavens to the other” (Matt. 24:31). Similarly, Peter addresses his first letter “to God’s elect” (1 Pet. 1:1). John does something similar in his second letter, addressed to “the lady chosen by God [KJV, RSV: “elect lady”] and to her children, whom I love in the truth” (2 John 1).

Election and Salvation

There is more to this terminology, though, than simply a descriptive name for Christ or God’s people. Other passages are more explanatory in nature and imply a definite and active place for God’s involvement in the salvation process. For example, Peter continues on in his introduction to his first letter with a description of the elect as those “who have been chosen [KJV: ‘elect’] according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled with his blood” (1 Pet. 1:2). Here there is the key question of how we should understand the role of God’s foreknowledge in the expression “chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father.” Some argue that this is simply telling us that God is able to look forward and know ahead of time who will exercise faith and be saved, so salvation is simply based on a purely human decision after all.

However, Rom. 9 suggests otherwise. This chapter, perhaps more than any other, sheds light on God’s election of his people. Paul is in the process of explaining how God’s plan of redemption (which he has been developing in Rom. 1–8) applies to his own Jewish people. If the gospel is really as powerful as Paul claims, why has it produced so little fruit among God’s own covenant people, the Jews? Paul answers, “It is not as though God’s word had failed. For not all who are descended from Israel are Israel” (9:6). Then, in the following verses, Paul explains what he means by “not all Israel are Israel.” Not every child of Abraham is a child of faith (9:7–13). The promise has come only through Isaac, and not through Abraham’s other sons, Ishmael and the six sons of Keturah (see Gen. 25:1). Similarly, the line of promise and blessing does not involve all of Isaac and Rebekah’s children either, but only Jacob and not Esau (9:10–13). Here Paul explains, “Before the twins were born or had done anything good or bad—in order that God’s purpose in election might stand: not by works but by him who calls” (9:11–12). In support of this conclusion, Paul quotes from Mal. 1:2–3: “Just as it is written: ‘Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated’ ” (9:13). The bottom line, according to Paul, is not one’s ancestry at all, but God’s own choice. God tells Moses in Exod. 33:19, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion” (quoted in Rom. 9:15). Paul gives his summary of election: “It does not, therefore, depend on human desire or effort, but on God’s mercy” (9:16). He rests his case with the classic OT illustration of God’s hardening of Pharaoh (9:17) before concluding, “Therefore God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden” (9:18).

Romans 9 is not an isolated passage of Scripture. The apostle John says much the same of Jesus’ ministry, and how salvation is specifically to all “those who believed in his name”; to them “he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God” (John 1:12–13). The last part of this passage is key: salvation ultimately depends not upon “natural descent” or one’s human ancestry (including whether one is Jewish or not), nor upon “human decision” (including any and all acts of the human will), nor upon a “husband’s will” (a more difficult expression that probably refers to the decisions of others in the family), but solely and ultimately only on being “born of God.”

Hardening of Hearts and the Nonelect

Certainly, there is a mystery in all of this. There is no easy way to understand the negative process of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart or to explain the mechanics of the positive process of election. Scripture often describes God himself as the one who has hardened the hearts of various individuals. In Exod. 4:21, for example, God says to Moses, “I will harden [Pharaoh’s] heart so that he will not let the people go.” Other times, Scripture is less clear and simply tells us that “Pharaoh’s heart became hard” (Exod. 7:13). Then there are still other times when Pharaoh himself is described as being actively involved in this process of hardening his own heart, such as “when Pharaoh saw that there was relief, he hardened his heart and would not listen to Moses and Aaron” (Exod. 8:15). Undoubtedly, the best way to understand this is to see a negative response such as the hardening of a person’s heart as a combination of the active will of fallen human beings and the mysterious workings of a sovereign God. In a similar way, both salvation and spiritual growth are other spiritual realities that also involve the mysterious combination of God’s direct involvement in people’s lives and the necessity of their own human response. Paul captures this tension in Phil. 2:12–13: “Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.”

There is also the question of the nonelect, sometimes put in terms of “reprobation” or “double predestination.” If God is actively involved in the positive act of bringing human beings into a proper relationship with himself in salvation, is he actively involved equally in choosing those who will never respond in faith and will suffer an eternity of judgment apart from him? Again, Christians are divided, and simplistic overgeneralizations do little to advance our understanding of this topic. Those who give precedence to God’s sovereignty in their understanding of the process of salvation usually see a greater involvement of God in the decisions of those who do not respond in faith; those who emphasize human involvement in salvation will also emphasize human decision in those who do not respond.

Those who emphasize God’s sovereignty in this mystery of the faith lean toward the Calvinistic or Reformed end of the scale. They tend also to emphasize the total depravity of humanity: the notion not that people are as bad as they can possibly be, but simply that sin has tainted every area of the mind, will, and emotions, making a positive turning to God, apart from God’s grace, humanly impossible. They also emphasize the definite atonement, the doctrine that Christ died specifically for the elect. On the other hand, those who emphasize human involvement, often called “Arminians,” tend to emphasize the importance of human free will in order to create a sense of responsibility for one’s decisions. They also emphasize an unlimited atonement, the doctrine that Christ died potentially for anyone and everyone.

Summary

The proper balance in Scripture seems to involve both God’s sovereignty and human involvement. Peter captures some of this need for balance: “Therefore, my brothers and sisters, make every effort to confirm your calling and election. For if you do these things, you will never stumble” (2 Pet. 1:10). Election is ultimately God’s work, but at the same time there is a human involvement in it. Charles Spurgeon’s illustration seems appropriate here. Human will and predestination are like the two rails on a railroad track: everywhere we look they are separate and distinct and thus irreconcilable; yet it is only off in the distance (really in the mind of God himself) that these two complementary truths come together in their perfect resolution. There is no question that “elect” and “election” are biblical terms; the key question is how to understand this difficult topic and to work out all the logical implications in terms of sharing the gospel with others in a meaningful and appropriate manner.

The choice or selection of a person or group, especially God’s determination of who will be saved.

Terminology

On occasion, the language of being “elect” is used as a description of Christ, or perhaps even a title. Isaiah, in one of his Servant Songs, gives a description that is probably best taken as a veiled reference to Christ in his unique relationship with the Father: “Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen [or ‘elect’] one in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will bring justice to the nations” (Isa. 42:1). There is similar usage in the NT, where Jesus is described in 1 Pet. 2:6 (using a quotation from Isa. 28:16): “For in Scripture it says: ‘See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen [or ‘elect’] and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.’ ”

Many times the word “elect” is used in Scripture as a synonym for believers. For example, Jesus speaks of the future time when “he will send his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of the heavens to the other” (Matt. 24:31). Similarly, Peter addresses his first letter “to God’s elect” (1 Pet. 1:1). John does something similar in his second letter, addressed to “the lady chosen by God [KJV, RSV: “elect lady”] and to her children, whom I love in the truth” (2 John 1).

Election and Salvation

There is more to this terminology, though, than simply a descriptive name for Christ or God’s people. Other passages are more explanatory in nature and imply a definite and active place for God’s involvement in the salvation process. For example, Peter continues on in his introduction to his first letter with a description of the elect as those “who have been chosen [KJV: ‘elect’] according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled with his blood” (1 Pet. 1:2). Here there is the key question of how we should understand the role of God’s foreknowledge in the expression “chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father.” Some argue that this is simply telling us that God is able to look forward and know ahead of time who will exercise faith and be saved, so salvation is simply based on a purely human decision after all.

However, Rom. 9 suggests otherwise. This chapter, perhaps more than any other, sheds light on God’s election of his people. Paul is in the process of explaining how God’s plan of redemption (which he has been developing in Rom. 1–8) applies to his own Jewish people. If the gospel is really as powerful as Paul claims, why has it produced so little fruit among God’s own covenant people, the Jews? Paul answers, “It is not as though God’s word had failed. For not all who are descended from Israel are Israel” (9:6). Then, in the following verses, Paul explains what he means by “not all Israel are Israel.” Not every child of Abraham is a child of faith (9:7–13). The promise has come only through Isaac, and not through Abraham’s other sons, Ishmael and the six sons of Keturah (see Gen. 25:1). Similarly, the line of promise and blessing does not involve all of Isaac and Rebekah’s children either, but only Jacob and not Esau (9:10–13). Here Paul explains, “Before the twins were born or had done anything good or bad—in order that God’s purpose in election might stand: not by works but by him who calls” (9:11–12). In support of this conclusion, Paul quotes from Mal. 1:2–3: “Just as it is written: ‘Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated’ ” (9:13). The bottom line, according to Paul, is not one’s ancestry at all, but God’s own choice. God tells Moses in Exod. 33:19, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion” (quoted in Rom. 9:15). Paul gives his summary of election: “It does not, therefore, depend on human desire or effort, but on God’s mercy” (9:16). He rests his case with the classic OT illustration of God’s hardening of Pharaoh (9:17) before concluding, “Therefore God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden” (9:18).

Romans 9 is not an isolated passage of Scripture. The apostle John says much the same of Jesus’ ministry, and how salvation is specifically to all “those who believed in his name”; to them “he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God” (John 1:12–13). The last part of this passage is key: salvation ultimately depends not upon “natural descent” or one’s human ancestry (including whether one is Jewish or not), nor upon “human decision” (including any and all acts of the human will), nor upon a “husband’s will” (a more difficult expression that probably refers to the decisions of others in the family), but solely and ultimately only on being “born of God.”

Hardening of Hearts and the Nonelect

Certainly, there is a mystery in all of this. There is no easy way to understand the negative process of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart or to explain the mechanics of the positive process of election. Scripture often describes God himself as the one who has hardened the hearts of various individuals. In Exod. 4:21, for example, God says to Moses, “I will harden [Pharaoh’s] heart so that he will not let the people go.” Other times, Scripture is less clear and simply tells us that “Pharaoh’s heart became hard” (Exod. 7:13). Then there are still other times when Pharaoh himself is described as being actively involved in this process of hardening his own heart, such as “when Pharaoh saw that there was relief, he hardened his heart and would not listen to Moses and Aaron” (Exod. 8:15). Undoubtedly, the best way to understand this is to see a negative response such as the hardening of a person’s heart as a combination of the active will of fallen human beings and the mysterious workings of a sovereign God. In a similar way, both salvation and spiritual growth are other spiritual realities that also involve the mysterious combination of God’s direct involvement in people’s lives and the necessity of their own human response. Paul captures this tension in Phil. 2:12–13: “Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.”

There is also the question of the nonelect, sometimes put in terms of “reprobation” or “double predestination.” If God is actively involved in the positive act of bringing human beings into a proper relationship with himself in salvation, is he actively involved equally in choosing those who will never respond in faith and will suffer an eternity of judgment apart from him? Again, Christians are divided, and simplistic overgeneralizations do little to advance our understanding of this topic. Those who give precedence to God’s sovereignty in their understanding of the process of salvation usually see a greater involvement of God in the decisions of those who do not respond in faith; those who emphasize human involvement in salvation will also emphasize human decision in those who do not respond.

Those who emphasize God’s sovereignty in this mystery of the faith lean toward the Calvinistic or Reformed end of the scale. They tend also to emphasize the total depravity of humanity: the notion not that people are as bad as they can possibly be, but simply that sin has tainted every area of the mind, will, and emotions, making a positive turning to God, apart from God’s grace, humanly impossible. They also emphasize the definite atonement, the doctrine that Christ died specifically for the elect. On the other hand, those who emphasize human involvement, often called “Arminians,” tend to emphasize the importance of human free will in order to create a sense of responsibility for one’s decisions. They also emphasize an unlimited atonement, the doctrine that Christ died potentially for anyone and everyone.

Summary

The proper balance in Scripture seems to involve both God’s sovereignty and human involvement. Peter captures some of this need for balance: “Therefore, my brothers and sisters, make every effort to confirm your calling and election. For if you do these things, you will never stumble” (2 Pet. 1:10). Election is ultimately God’s work, but at the same time there is a human involvement in it. Charles Spurgeon’s illustration seems appropriate here. Human will and predestination are like the two rails on a railroad track: everywhere we look they are separate and distinct and thus irreconcilable; yet it is only off in the distance (really in the mind of God himself) that these two complementary truths come together in their perfect resolution. There is no question that “elect” and “election” are biblical terms; the key question is how to understand this difficult topic and to work out all the logical implications in terms of sharing the gospel with others in a meaningful and appropriate manner.

Human Uses and Metaphors

Fire is a basic necessity for various human activities such as cooking (Exod. 12:8; Isa. 44:15–16, 19; John 21:9), warming (Isa. 44:16; Jer. 36:22; John 18:18), lighting (Isa. 50:11), manufacturing (Exod. 32:24), and refining metals (Num. 31:22–23). Fire is also an important means of maintaining the purity of God’s people, used to punish sinners (the sexually immoral [Lev. 20:14; 21:9; cf. Gen. 38:24] and the disobedient [Josh. 7:25; cf. 2 Kings 23:16]) and to destroy idols (Exod. 32:20; Deut. 7:5, 25; 2 Kings 10:26), chariots (Josh. 11:6, 9), and the cities of Canaan (Josh. 6:24; 8:19; 11:11; Judg. 18:27). As an essential means of worship, fire is used to burn sacrificial animals (Gen. 8:20; Exod. 29:18; Lev. 1:9; 3:3; 9:10, 13–14, 20) and grain offerings (Lev. 2:2, 9; 9:17).

The Mosaic law has several regulations concerning fire. Regarded as work, starting a fire is forbidden on the Sabbath (Exod. 35:3). It is the responsibility of the priests to keep the fire burning on the altar (Lev. 6:9, 12–13). The use of an “unauthorized fire” for sacrifice is forbidden (note Nadab and Abihu’s death [Lev. 10:1–2; cf. Num. 3:4; 26:61; 1 Chron. 24:2]). Also, contrary to the Canaanite religious custom, burning children is forbidden (Deut. 18:10), though the Israelites failed to keep this command and elicited God’s judgment (2 Kings 16:3; 17:17; 21:6; Jer. 7:31; 32:35; note Josiah’s ban in 2 Kings 23:10).

As a metaphor, fire also signifies human anger (Ps. 39:3), wickedness (Isa. 9:18), self-reliance (Isa. 50:11), evil planning (Hos. 7:6–7), lust (Prov. 6:27–28), evil speech or tongue (Prov. 16:27; James 3:5–6), and, paradoxically, kindness to an enemy (Prov. 25:22; Rom. 12:20).

Divine Uses and Metaphors

In the Bible, God is described as the ruler of fire (Ps. 104:4; cf. 1 Kings 18). Positively, God sends fire to signify his acceptance of worship (Lev. 9:24; Judg. 13:19–20; 1 Kings 18:38; 2 Chron. 7:1–3; cf. Luke 9:54). God also purifies his people by fire in order to provide them with abundance (Ps. 66:12), to cleanse them of their sins (Isa. 6:6–7), to refine them into the true remnant (Zech. 13:9), to restore true worship (Mal. 3:2–3), to bring forth genuine faith (1 Cor. 3:13, 15; 1 Pet. 1:7), and to give Christians a true joy of participating in Christ’s suffering (1 Pet. 4:12). God also promises to make his people like a firepot and a flaming torch that will burn the surrounding enemies (Zech. 12:6). Negatively, God uses fire to punish the wicked and disobedient (Gen. 19:24; Exod. 9:23; Num. 11:1; 16:35; 2 Kings 1:10, 12; Isa. 29:6; 34:9–10; 66:24; Ezek. 38:22; 39:6; Rev. 20:9). God is a farmer burning unfruitful trees (John 15:2, 6; cf. Matt. 3:10; 7:19; 13:40) and “thorns and briers” (Isa. 10:17). The eternal fire of hell is the place where God’s final judgment will be executed (Matt. 5:22; 25:41; Mark 9:45–49; Jude 1:7; note the “lake of fire” in Rev. 20:14–15; cf. 14:10; 21:8).

Fire is also a symbol used to image the indescribable God. It symbolizes God’s presence: a smoking firepot with a flaming torch (Gen. 15:17), the burning bush (Exod. 3:2; cf. Elijah’s expectation [1 Kings 19:12]), the pillars of fire and smoke (Exod. 13:21–22; Num. 14:14), the smoke on Mount Sinai and in the tabernacle and the temple (Exod. 19:19; Num. 9:15–16; Deut. 4:11–12; Isa. 6:4). Fire marks God’s protection: the “horses and chariots of fire” (2 Kings 6:17; cf. 2:11), the “wall of fire” (Zech. 2:5). Fire also represents God’s glory: God’s throne (Dan. 7:9; cf. Ezek. 1:4, 13; 10:2, 6–7), God’s form (Ezek. 1:27), the seven spirits of God before the throne (Rev. 4:5). God in his holy wrath is also likened to a burning fire (Pss. 79:5; 89:46; Isa. 5:24; 33:14; Jer. 15:14; Ezek. 21:31; 22:21; Hos. 8:5; note the expression “consuming fire” [Deut. 4:24; Isa. 33:14; Heb. 12:29]) and even to a fiery monster (Ps. 18:8; Isa. 30:33; 65:5; cf. Job 41:19–21). Fire is an important element in the description of the day of the Lord (Joel 2:3; cf. 2 Pet. 3:12). God’s words in the prophet’s mouth are likened to a fire (Jer. 5:14; 20:9; 23:29).

Fire is also used to speak of Jesus. John the Baptist refers to Jesus’ baptism as one with the Holy Spirit and fire (Matt. 3:11). Jesus identifies the purpose of his coming as casting fire on earth (Luke 12:49). The returning Jesus is portrayed as coming in “blazing fire” (2 Thess. 1:7), and the eyes of the glorified Christ are likened to “blazing fire” (Rev. 1:14; 2:18; cf. “flaming torches” in Dan. 10:6). In Acts 2:3 the Holy Spirit is portrayed as the “tongues of fire.”

In systematic theology, “foreknowledge” usually refers to the doctrine that God knows all things, events, and persons before they exist or occur and that this knowledge has been his from all eternity. No single Hebrew term in the OT corresponds to the English term; the concept is expressed rather on the phrase or sentence level. In the NT, the Greek verb proginōskō and noun prognōsis are translated “foreknow” and “foreknowledge,” respectively. Recently in evangelical circles there has been intense debate as to whether foreknowledge and omniscience are in fact taught in the biblical texts.

Old Testament

In the OT narratives, especially in the Pentateuch, there are numerous instances that indicate some limitations to God’s knowledge in general and his foreknowledge in particular. God appears to be somewhat surprised by how wicked humanity has become before he decides to send the flood (Gen. 6:5). God comes down and discovers that the inhabitants of Babel have started to build a tower and considers how to stop the activity (11:5–7). God comes down to ascertain whether the outcry that has come to his ears about the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah is actually as bad as the reports would indicate (18:20–21). God tests Abraham by commanding him to offer Isaac as a sacrifice, and when Abraham begins to do so, he declares that now he knows that Abraham really fears him (22:1–18).

Often, narratives such as these are regarded by theologians as cases of anthropomorphism, statements made about God that speak of him as if he had human characteristics—in this case, limited knowledge. And certainly there are many other narratives in the Pentateuch that appear to give the opposite picture. God asks Cain where his brother Abel is, though he apparently already knows the answer (Gen. 4:9–10). God relates to Abraham the course that Israelite history will take for the next several hundred years (15:13–16). God seems to be in a real-time chess match with Pharaoh, but in actuality God knows all the moves that both he and Pharaoh will make before the game ever begins (Exod. 3:19–22; 4:21–23; 7:1–5).

Given this data, perhaps the better explanation for what is happening in these texts is not that the biblical narrator is employing anthropomorphism but rather that God is accommodating himself both to the characters in the narrative and to the narrator of the stories. That is, at this stage of revelatory history God is not yet revealing himself as fully omniscient and prescient of the future in its entirety. In the conceptual world of the ancient Near East, deities were regularly portrayed as being interactive—deliberating, investigating, discovering, making decisions, and so forth. God therefore may well have accommodated himself to the larger milieu in revealing himself to the patriarchs and earliest biblical narrators.

Whatever the case may be, later biblical revelation certainly seems to present God as fully omniscient and prescient. “Death and Destruction lie open before the Lord—how much more do human hearts!” (Prov. 15:11). Before words reach our tongues, God knows them completely (Ps. 139:4). No one has ever had to keep God informed or provide him with counsel (Isa. 40:13–14). There are no limits to his understanding (Ps. 147:5). The God of Israel challenges all idols and all other gods to a foreknowledge contest: if they are able, let them tell what is going to happen, as Yahweh does (Isa. 42:9; 44:6–8; 48:3–8). God alone makes the end known from the beginning (Isa. 46:10), and he has been doing so from ancient times (Acts 15:17–18). God knew Jeremiah long before he was ever a fetus (Jer. 1:5). Our prayers do not make God finally aware of our situation; he already knows what our needs are (Matt. 6:8). Indeed, God answers our prayers before they are even prayed (Isa. 65:24). “Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare” before his eyes (Heb. 4:13).

New Testament

One especially important exegetical question for the NT involves the precise meaning of the aforementioned Greek words, proginōskō (“foreknow”) and prognōsis (“foreknowledge”). The question concerns whether these words, in their contexts, are merely cognitive terms, indicating simply that God knows things before they happen, or whether the terms are volitional terms and/or affective terms. That is, do they indicate foreordaining and/or foreloving? Are they terms that have basically the same meaning as “election” and “predestination”?

Giving credence to this position is the fact that in some of the passages where these words occur there are other words that definitely refer to God willing things to happen. In Acts 2:23, Peter declares that Jesus was handed over to his crucifiers by “God’s deliberate plan and foreknowledge.” The verse can hardly mean that God decided to do this because he already knew it was going to happen. Rather, the terms “deliberate plan” and “foreknowledge” act together to convey the single idea of God’s complete control, planning, and sovereignty in the death of Jesus. Likewise, in 1 Pet. 1:20 the word does not mean that the Son was simply “foreknown” before the foundation of the world, but rather that he was “chosen” (NIV), “destined” (NRSV), “foreordained” (KJV).

In Rom. 11:2, Paul states that God has not rejected “his people, whom he foreknew.” Again, it is hard to read this as being only cognitive. Rather, the use of the term appears to imply some kind of “affective” foreknowing, a “setting his love upon” (cf. Deut. 7:7–8), a choosing. It is important to note that the text says God foreknew not things but people. On the one hand, God foreknew all people who would ever exist, but in this passage the foreknowing refers to a particular people. And the foreknowing most likely takes its sense from the use of the word “know” in the OT, which on numerous occasions refers to the relationship of acknowledgment and love between God and his people.

In the same way, in Rom. 8:29 “those God foreknew he also predestined,” “foreknew” again appears to be a volitional, affective term—that is, “those whom God set his love upon.” That it means that God knew how these people would respond to the gospel and then chose them seems to be excluded by passages such as Rom. 9:11–12, where God’s purposes in election are not determined by people’s actions. Finally, in 1 Pet. 1:1–2 the “elect” to whom Peter is writing are elect according to “foreknowledge of God”; not that God foreknew things about them, but that God foreknew them. This understanding of the terms in context seems preferable.

For Christians, God is the creator of the cosmos and the redeemer of humanity. He has revealed himself in historical acts—namely, in creation, in the history of Israel, and especially in the person and work of Jesus Christ. There is only one God (Deut. 6:4); “there is no other” (Isa. 45:5). Because “God is spirit” (John 4:24), he must reveal himself through various images and metaphors.

Imagery of God

God’s character and attributes are revealed primarily through the use of imagery, the best and most understandable way to describe the mysterious nature of God. Scripture employs many images to describe God’s being and character. Some examples follow here.

God is compared to the father who shows compassion and love to his children (Ps. 103:13; Rom. 8:15). The father image is also used by the prophets to reveal God’s creatorship (Isa. 64:8). Jesus predominantly uses the language of “Father” in reference to God (Mark 8:38; 13:32; 14:36), revealing his close relationship with the Father. God is also identified as the king of Israel even before the Israelites have a human king (1 Sam. 10:19).

The Psalter exalts Yahweh as the king, acknowledging God’s sovereignty and preeminence (Pss. 5:2; 44:4; 47:6–7; 68:24; 74:12; 84:3; 95:3; 145:1). God is metaphorically identified as the shepherd who takes care of his sheep, his people, to depict his nature of provision and protection (Ps. 23:1–4). The image of the potter is also employed to describe the nature of God, who creates his creatures according to his will (Jer. 18:6; Rom. 9:20–23). In Hos. 2:4–3:5 God is identified as the long-suffering husband of the adulterous wife Israel. In the setting of war, God is depicted as the divine warrior who fights against his enemy (Exod. 15:3).

God is also referred to as advocate (Isa. 1:18), judge (Gen. 18:25), and lawgiver (Deut. 5:1–22). The image of the farmer is also frequently adopted to describe God’s nature of compassionate care, creation, providence, justice, redemption, sanctification, and more (e.g., Isa. 5:1–7; John 15:1–12). God is often referred to as the teacher (Exod. 4:15) who teaches what to do, as does the Holy Spirit in the NT (John 14:26). The Holy Spirit is identified as the counselor, the helper, the witness, and the guide (John 14:16, 26; 15:26). God is often metaphorically compared to various things in nature, such as rock (Ps. 18:2, 31, 46), light (Ps. 27:1), fire (Deut. 4:24; 9:3), lion (Hos. 11:10), and eagle (Deut. 32:11–12). In particular, the Davidic psalms employ many images in nature—rock, fortress, shield, horn, and stronghold (e.g., Ps. 18:2)—to describe God’s perfect protection.

Last, anthropomorphism often is employed to describe God’s activities. Numerous parts of the human body are used to speak of God: face (Num. 6:25–26), eyes (2 Chron. 16:9), mouth (Deut. 8:3), ears (Neh. 1:6), nostrils (Exod. 15:8), hands (Ezra 7:9), arms (Deut. 33:27), fingers (Ps. 8:3), voice (Exod. 15:26), shoulders (Deut. 33:12), feet (Ps. 18:9), and back (Exod. 33:21–22).

Names and Attributes of God

The OT refers to God by many names. One of the general terms used for God, ’el (which probably means “ultimate supremacy”), often appears in a compound form with a qualifying word, as in ’el ’elyon (“God Most High”), ’el shadday (“God Almighty”), and ’el ro’i (“the God who sees me” or “God of my seeing”). These descriptive names reveal important attributes of God and usually were derived from the personal experiences of the people of God in real-life settings; thus, they do not describe an abstract concept of God.

The most prominent personal name of God is yahweh (YHWH), which is translated as “the Lord” in most English Bibles. At the burning bush in the wilderness of Horeb, God first revealed to Moses his personal name in sentence form: “I am who I am” (Exod. 3:13–15). Though debated, the divine name “YHWH” seems to originate from an abbreviated form of this sentence. Yahweh, who was with Moses and his people at the time of exodus, is the God who was with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. According to Jesus’ testimony, “the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob” is identified as the God “of the living” (Matt. 22:32). Hence, the name “Yahweh” is closely tied to God’s self-revelation as the God of presence and life. (See also Names of God.)

Many of God’s attributes are summarized in Exod. 34:6–7: “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin. Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation.” Below are further explanations of some of the representative attributes of God.

Holiness. The moral excellence of God is the attribute that underlies all other attributes. Thus, all God’s attributes can be modified by the adjective holy: holy love, holy justice, holy mercy, holy righteousness, holy compassion, holy wisdom, and so forth. God is the only supremely holy one (1 Sam. 2:2; Rev. 15:4). God’s name is also holy; those who profane God’s name are condemned as guilty (Exod. 20:7; Lev. 22:32). God is depicted as the one who has concern for his holy name, which the Israelites profaned among the nations; God actively seeks to restore the holiness of his defiled name (Ezek. 36:21–23). God’s holiness is revealed by his righteous action (Isa. 5:16). Not only is God holy, but also he expects his people to be holy (Lev. 11:45; 19:2). All the sacrificial codes of Leviticus represent the moral requirements of holiness for the worshipers. Because of God’s character of holiness, he cannot tolerate sin in the lives of people, and he brings judgment to those who do not repent (Hab. 1:13).

Love and justice. Because “God is love,” no one reaches the true knowledge of God without having love (1 John 4:8). Images of the father and the faithful husband are frequently employed to portray God’s love (Deut. 1:31; Jer. 31:32; Hos. 2:14–20; 11:1–4). God’s love was supremely demonstrated by the giving of his only Son Jesus Christ for his people (John 3:16; Rom. 5:7–8; 1 John 4:9–10). God expects his people to follow the model of Christ’s sacrificial love (1 John 3:16).

God’s justice is the foundation of his moral law and his ways (Deut. 32:4; Job 34:12; Ps. 9:16; Rev. 15:3). It is also seen in his will (Ps. 99:4). God loves justice and acts with justice (Ps. 33:5). God’s justice is demonstrated in judging people according to their deeds—punishing wickedness and rewarding righteousness (Ezek. 18:20; Ps. 58:11; Rev. 20:12–13). God establishes justice by upholding the cause of the oppressed (Ps. 103:6) and by vindicating those afflicted (1 Sam. 25:39). God is completely impartial in implementing justice (Job 34:18–19). As with holiness, God requires his people to reflect his justice (Prov. 21:3).

God keeps a perfect balance between the attributes of love and justice. God’s love never infringes upon his justice, and vice versa. The cross of Jesus Christ perfectly shows these two attributes in one act. Because of his love, God gave his only Son for his people; because of his justice, God punished his Son for the sake of their sins. The good news is that God’s justice was satisfied by the work of Jesus Christ (Rom. 3:25–26).

Righteousness and mercy. God’s righteousness shows his unique moral perfection. God’s nature, actions, and laws display his character of righteousness (Pss. 19:8–9; 119:137; Dan. 9:14). “Righteousness and justice” are the foundation of God’s throne (Ps. 89:14). God’s righteousness was especially demonstrated in the work of Jesus Christ (Rom. 3:21–22). God’s righteousness will ultimately be revealed in his final judgment (Rev. 19:2; 20–22; cf. Ps. 7:11).

The English word “mercy” renders various words in the original languages: in Hebrew, khesed, khanan, rakham; in Greek, charis, eleos, oiktirmos, splanchnon. English Bibles translate these variously as “mercy,” “compassion,” “grace,” “kindness,” or “love.” The word “mercy” is chosen here as a representative concept (cf. Ps. 86:15). God’s mercy is most clearly seen in his act of forgiving sinners. In the Psalter, “Have mercy on me” is the most common form of expression when the psalmist entreats God’s forgiveness (Pss. 41:4, 10; 51:1). God’s mercy is shown abundantly to his chosen people (Eph. 2:4–8). Because of his mercy, their sins are forgiven (Mic. 7:18), their punishments are withheld (Ezra 9:13), and even sinners’ prayers are heard (Ps. 51:1; Luke 18:13–14). God is “the Father of mercies” (2 Cor. 1:3 NRSV).

God keeps a perfect balance between righteousness and mercy. His righteousness and mercy never infringe upon each other, nor does one operate at the expense of the other. God’s abundant mercy is shown to sinners through Jesus Christ, but if they do not repent of their sins, his righteous judgment will be brought upon them.

Faithfulness. God’s faithfulness is revealed in keeping the covenant that he made with his people. God “is the faithful God, keeping his covenant of love to a thousand generations of those who love him and keep his commandments” (Deut. 7:9). God is faithful to his character, his name, and his word (Neh. 9:8; Ps. 106:8; 2 Tim. 2:13; Heb. 6:13–18). God’s faithfulness is clearly seen in fulfilling his promise (Josh. 23:14). God showed his faithfulness by fulfilling all the promises that he made to Abraham (Gen. 12:2–3; Rom. 9:9; Gal. 4:28; Heb. 6:13–15), by having Solomon build the temple that he promised to David (2 Sam. 7:12–13; 1 Kings 8:17–21), and by sending his people into exile in Babylon and returning them to their homeland (Jer. 25:8–11; Dan. 9:2–3). God’s faithfulness was ultimately demonstrated by sending Jesus Christ, as was promised in the OT (Luke 24:44; Acts 13:32–33; 1 Cor. 15:3–8).

Goodness. Jesus said, “No one is good—except God alone” (Mark 10:18). God demonstrates his goodness in his actions (Ps. 119:68), in his work of creation (1 Tim. 4:4), in his love (Ps. 86:5), and in his promises (Josh. 23:14–15).

Patience. God is “slow to anger” (Exod. 34:6; Num. 14:18), which is a favorite expression for his patience (Neh. 9:17; Pss. 86:15; 103:8; Joel 2:13). God is patient with sinful people for a long time (Acts 13:18). Because of his patient character, he delays punishment (Isa. 42:14). For instance, God was patient with his disobedient prophet Jonah and also with the sinful people of Nineveh (Jon. 3:1–10). The purpose of God’s patience is to lead people toward repentance (Rom. 2:4).

God of the Trinity

The Christian God of the Bible is the triune God. God is one but exists in three persons: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (Matt. 28:19). The Son is one with the Father (John 10:30); the Holy Spirit is one with God (2 Sam. 23:2–3). All three share the same divine nature; they are all-knowing, holy, glorious, and called “Lord” and “God” (Matt. 11:25; John 1:1; 20:28; Acts 3:22; 5:3–4; 10:36; 1 Cor. 8:6; 2 Cor. 3:17–18; 2 Pet. 1:1). All three share in the same work of creation (Gen. 1:1–3), salvation (1 Pet. 1:2), indwelling (John 14:23), and directing the church’s mission (Matt. 28:18–20; Acts 16:6–10; 14:27; 13:2–4).

In Christian theology, the Third Person of the Trinity. The usage derives from the NT, in which the divine Spirit is treated as an independent person who is instrumental in salvation and is worthy of the praise accorded to both the Father and the Son (John 14:16–23; Rom. 8:26–27; 1 Pet. 1:2).

Old Testament

The scarcity of the phrase “Holy Spirit” in the OT (only in Ps. 51:11; Isa. 63:10–11) does not imply lack of interest or importance. While it should be recognized that in the OT the person of the Holy Spirit receives nothing like the systematic reflection found in the NT, when one includes correlative terms, such as “Spirit of God,” “my Spirit,” “wind,” or “breath,” it is apparent that OT writers attributed great significance to God’s Spirit. Thus, the Spirit was at work in the beginning of creation (Gen. 1:2). Adam and Eve are uniquely given life by the breath of God (Gen. 2:7). The Spirit enables the building of the tabernacle (Exod. 31:3), gives voice to the message of the prophets (Num. 11:29; cf. 2 Pet. 1:21), empowers Israel’s leaders (1 Sam. 16:13), and provides access to God’s presence (Ps. 51:11). Yet in all this, the work of the Spirit in the OT is sporadic, occasional, and localized. Thus, the prophets long for a new age when God’s people will more perfectly enjoy the Spirit’s presence (Isa. 32:15; 44:3; 61:1; Joel 2:28).

New Testament

The Spirit in the ministry of Christ. The NT views the OT prophetic hope for the Spirit as fulfilled in and through Jesus Christ (Luke 4:18–21). The unique relationship between God’s Holy Spirit and the person and work of Jesus explains the systemic reflection that the Holy Spirit receives in the NT. This is signaled at the very beginning of Jesus’ life, when the Holy Spirit “comes upon” Mary, overshadowing her with “the power of the Most High” (1:35). Similarly, at the start of Jesus’ public ministry, the Holy Spirit “descended on him” at baptism (3:22). This anointing by the Spirit initiates and empowers Jesus’ public ministry, from his preaching, to his miraculous works, to his perfect obedience (Luke 4:14–18; John 3:34; Acts 10:38). Even his sacrificial death is accomplished by the power of the Holy Spirit (Heb. 9:14).

Significantly, just as the Holy Spirit empowered the life and death of Jesus, so too is the Spirit responsible for his resurrection and characteristic of his glorious reign. Death is not a defeat for Jesus: he is “vindicated by the Spirit” (1 Tim. 3:16), “appointed the Son of God in power by his resurrection from the dead” (Rom. 1:4; cf. 1 Pet. 3:18). Furthermore, at his resurrection, Jesus comes into a new phase of full and perfect possession of the eternal Spirit as the reward for his obedience. So complete is this union that Paul at one point claims that “the Lord is the Spirit” (2 Cor. 3:17).

The Spirit in the church and the believer. The church and its members are the immediate beneficiaries of Christ’s spiritual fullness. Since Jesus is now a “life-giving spirit” through his resurrection and ascension (1 Cor. 15:45), he is able to fulfill the promise of Spirit baptism (Luke 3:16). This baptism takes place in the outpouring of the Spirit at Pentecost, which marks the birth of the NT church. The apostles, illuminated by the Holy Spirit, provide true and powerful testimony about Jesus (John 16:4–15), testimony that serves as the church’s foundation and principal tradition (Eph. 2:20). The work of the Spirit continues within the church in the postapostolic age, uniting its members in Christ for God’s holy purpose (Eph. 2:22).

This same outpouring of the Holy Spirit is the salvation of individual believers. Believers receive the Spirit by faith (Gal. 3:14). The Spirit in turn unites them to Christ and all his benefits (Gal. 3:2; Eph. 1:3), including his life (Heb. 4:15–16), suffering (Phil. 1:29; 1 Pet. 4:14), death (Rom. 6:3), resurrection (Rom. 6:5), justification (Rom. 4:25), and glorious reign in heaven (Phil. 3:20). These benefits, though undoubtedly perfected and consummated only at Christ’s return (Phil. 1:6), are characteristic of believers’ present experience, enjoyed now because the Spirit dwells within them as the “firstfruits” of the harvest to come (Rom. 8:23; cf. Gal. 2:19–20). This indwelling of the Spirit results in new birth and new creation (2 Cor. 5:17), a newness identified with the life that Christ received in his resurrection (Rom. 8:11).

For this reason, believers are urged to further the work of the Spirit in their lives until the bodily resurrection of all God’s people. They are to cultivate the “fruit of the Spirit” (Gal. 5:22), and they are correspondingly warned not to “grieve the Holy Spirit” (Eph. 4:30). Furthermore, since new life is initiated by the Spirit (John 3:6–8), Christians are to remain in that Spirit, not turning aside in reliance on vain and useless principles (Gal. 3:1–5). Conversely, they are to be “filled with the Spirit” (Eph. 5:18), putting off the old person and putting on the new (4:22). This filling grounds every aspect of the believer’s life, from obedience, to worship, to the hope of resurrection. The Spirit, in uniting believers to all the riches of Christ and his resurrection, is therefore central in the work of salvation. See also Spirit.

Scope and Uses of the Word “Hope”

At times simply indicating a wish (2 Cor. 11:1), in the Bible the word “hope” most often designates a disposition of soul, the grounds for one’s hope, or the outcome for which one hopes.

Those whom God has helped and delivered expect to see God’s power again when future needs arise, knowing that in God there are reasons for hope. Mere optimism assumes that bad circumstances will improve with the passing of time. In contrast, hope assumes that God is faithful and is convinced that he is able to bring about his good purpose (Isa. 44:1–8). So at its core, biblical hope is hope in God, rooted in God’s covenant faithfulness (Ps. 62:5–8; Jer. 14:8; 17:13; Rom. 4:18; 5:1–5). Hope trusts God in the present and lives even now on the strength of God’s future accomplishments (Gal. 5:5; Heb. 11:1).

Both of the main OT words for “hope” (Heb. roots qwh and ykhl) are at times translated “wait.” By definition, hope means that God’s promised outcome has not arrived, and that some time will pass before it does. But that time is filled with a sense of waiting on God, often with a deep ache of longing for God to act (see Pss. 25:16–21; 39:4–7; Isa. 40:28–31; Lam. 3:19–24).

The inner disposition of hope may be seriously threatened by injustice and other devastating life experiences, as reflected in Job 6:8–13; 14:19; 19:10. The refrain of Pss. 42:5–6, 11; 43:5 is a psalmist’s self-exhortation to hope amid oppressive and depressing circumstances: “Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” Words for “hope” function similarly in other psalms of lament (Pss. 9:18; 31:24; 71:5, 14; cf. Mic. 7:7).

The OT usually locates individual hope within the horizon and limits of this world. One hopes for outcomes that may be realized in one’s own lifetime; indeed, when life ends, hope ends (Prov. 11:7; 24:20; Eccles. 9:4; Isa. 38:18). Proverbs that mention hope regarding someone’s character development show an underlying concern that God’s purposes be vindicated in one’s life (e.g., Prov. 19:18; 26:12). When used in conjunction with Israel as a whole, hope looks to a more distant future and coming generations.

In the NT, hope is closely associated with Christ and his saving work. Christians now live by hope in Christ (Eph. 1:12; 1 Pet. 1:3; 3:15); indeed, he is “Christ Jesus our hope” (1 Tim. 1:1), and his future appearing is “the blessed hope” (Titus 2:13). Thus, hope refers to eschatological glory (2 Cor. 3:11–12; Eph. 1:18). It is “the hope of the resurrection” (Acts 23:6; cf. 24:15; 26:6–9), our transformation into Christ’s likeness (1 John 3:1–3). That expectation stimulates various hopes for God’s plans to be realized in one’s own or others’ lives (1 Cor. 9:10, 13; Phil. 2:19, 23; 2 Tim. 2:25; 2 John 12). So hope is named repeatedly as an essential Christian attribute (Rom. 12:12; 15:4, 13; 1 Cor. 13:13).

Hope as a Biblical Theme

With the God of hope as its covenant Lord, hope is a defining reality for Israel and a persistent theme in the historical books (e.g., 2 Sam. 23:1–7; 2 Kings 25:27–30). Psalmists find hope either in continuity with present structures (Ps. 37) or in drastic change (Pss. 33; 82), such as personal or corporate restoration.

Judgment dominates the message of the preexilic prophets, although expressions of hope are also found. But Judah’s downfall in 587/586 BC marks a turning point in prophetic hope. While preexilic prophecy bases its indictment, appeal, and warning in the exodus and the covenant, Jeremiah and Ezekiel tend to redirect hope and expectation to a new work of salvation that God will accomplish through and after the judgment of exile (e.g., Jer. 31:31–34; Ezek. 11:16–21; cf. Isa. 43:18–19). In the wake of Judah’s destruction, these prophets grasp a remarkable new vision of grace and promise. Restoration will be personal as well as national; forgiveness of sin will enable obedience to God’s law, now to be found written on their hearts.

During the exile, collection of Israel’s sacred texts enabled the shattered community to sustain identity and hope. Postexilic prophecy is often “text prophecy” that arises from reflection upon and reapplication of written prophecies, psalms, and other scriptural texts. For example, the book of Zechariah (especially chaps. 9–14) alludes to many earlier writings and also moves toward apocalyptic literature, contributing dramatic new imagery of God’s conquest of evil to establish his cosmic reign and fulfill his covenant. Messianic hopes rose throughout this period, fueled by earlier prophecies (e.g., Isa. 9; 11; 65:17; Jer. 23:5; Mic. 5:2).

If the OT gives occasional hints of an afterlife, this hope becomes manifest in the NT (2 Tim. 1:10). Jesus promises the thief on the cross fellowship after death (Luke 23:43). For Paul, “to depart and be with Christ” is such a vivid hope that “to die is gain” (Phil. 1:21–24). Such texts imply that death ushers the believer into Christ’s presence. Yet this intermediate state is not the whole picture. We are saved in hope of the redemption of our bodies (Rom. 8:23–25)—our resurrection from the dead and entry into a new glorified, bodily existence (1 Cor. 15; Phil. 3:20–21).

Christ is judge as well as savior (Matt. 16:27; 25:31–46; Acts 17:31; Rom. 2:16), and the NT anticipates final judgment of all persons and powers arrayed against God, including sin and death (1 Cor. 15:24–26; 2 Thess. 1:5–10). Christian hope involves nothing less than the return and full revelation of Jesus Christ, the resurrection of the dead, and the renewal of all creation (1 Thess. 4:13–18; Rev. 21–22)—the complete vindication of God’s rule, secured already in Christ. Then God’s redeemed people will see his face and live in his presence forever (Matt. 5:8; Jude 24; Rev. 22:4). A vision of this future enables us to press on with hope, stretching toward what is to come (Phil. 3:13–14).

Inheritance is an important concept that the Bible uses in several ways.

Family. In the ancient world every culture had customs for the passing of wealth and possessions from one generation to the next. In ancient Israel special provisions were made for inheriting land upon the death of the father. The firstborn son received a double portion; the rest was divided equally among the remaining sons. If a man lacked sons, priority went to the following in order: daughters, brothers, father’s brothers, next of kin (Num. 27:1–11). The OT provides guidance for additional circumstances (Gen. 38:8–9; Num. 36:6; Lev. 25:23–24; Deut. 21:15–17; 25:5–10; Ruth 2:20; 3:9–13; 4:1–12), with an overriding concern for the stability of the family and the retention of the land within a tribe. Under Roman law during the NT period, an heir had legal standing even while the father was still alive; his status was based on birth or adoption rather than the father’s death.

Old Testament. Even more prominent than family inheritance is the assertion that God gave the land of Canaan to Abraham and his descendants as an inheritance (Gen. 12:7; 15:18–21; 17:8; Num. 34:1–29; Deut. 12:10). This inheritance is God’s gracious gift, not something that Israel earned by its righteousness (Deut. 9:4–7). Descriptions of the land (“flowing with milk and honey”) and its fertility portray this gift as a new Eden, where God will dwell with his people (Exod. 3:8, 17; Lev. 20:24; Num. 16:13–14; Deut. 11:9–12). In some texts the language of inheritance moves beyond the land of Canaan to an international scope. In Ps. 2:8 the anointed king recounts God saying to him, “Ask me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession.” This expansion of inheritance from the land of Canaan to the ends of the earth prepares the way for a similar expansion in the NT (see Rom. 4:13).

God’s relationship with Israel is also described in terms of inheritance. On the one hand, Israel is described as God’s inheritance (Deut. 32:9; 1 Sam. 10:1; 1 Kings 8:51–53); on the other hand, God is Israel’s inheritance (Pss. 16:5; 73:26; Jer. 10:16; 51:19). This mutuality expresses the intimacy of God’s relationship with Israel.

New Testament. Inheritance language is taken up in the NT and expanded in a variety of ways. First and foremost, Jesus Christ is the “heir of all things,” the Son to whom the Father has given all authority in heaven and on earth (Matt. 28:18–20; Heb. 1:2–5). Through their union with Christ, believers share in Christ’s inheritance (Rom. 8:17), having been qualified by the Father to share in that inheritance (Col. 1:12). What believers inherit is described in various ways: the earth (Matt. 5:5), eternal life (Luke 10:25), the kingdom (1 Cor. 6:9–10; James 2:5), salvation (Heb. 1:14), blessing (Heb. 12:17; 1 Pet. 3:9). This inheritance was enacted by the death of Christ and sealed by his blood (Heb. 9:15–28). Believers experience the benefits of this inheritance through the Spirit now (Eph. 1:14, 18), but its fullness is reserved in heaven and awaits the consummation (1 Pet. 1:4–6).

The connection between the believer’s inheritance and the Spirit is especially prominent in Paul. In Gal. 4:1–7 Paul uses a combination of exodus and legal imagery to explain the gospel. Before Christ came, God’s people were heirs under the care of guardians and trustees. But once Christ came and redeemed them from under the law, they received their full inheritance as adopted sons and daughters. Central to that inheritance is the gift of the Spirit, who cries out, “Abba, Father.” It is this gift of the Spirit that definitively marks believers as sons and daughters rather than slaves. Because believers possess the Spirit as an inheritance in fulfillment of the promise to Abraham (Gal. 3:14; cf. Isa. 44:3–5), they have moved from bondage under the law to freedom in Christ (Gal. 5:1).

Inheritance is an important concept that the Bible uses in several ways.

Family. In the ancient world every culture had customs for the passing of wealth and possessions from one generation to the next. In ancient Israel special provisions were made for inheriting land upon the death of the father. The firstborn son received a double portion; the rest was divided equally among the remaining sons. If a man lacked sons, priority went to the following in order: daughters, brothers, father’s brothers, next of kin (Num. 27:1–11). The OT provides guidance for additional circumstances (Gen. 38:8–9; Num. 36:6; Lev. 25:23–24; Deut. 21:15–17; 25:5–10; Ruth 2:20; 3:9–13; 4:1–12), with an overriding concern for the stability of the family and the retention of the land within a tribe. Under Roman law during the NT period, an heir had legal standing even while the father was still alive; his status was based on birth or adoption rather than the father’s death.

Old Testament. Even more prominent than family inheritance is the assertion that God gave the land of Canaan to Abraham and his descendants as an inheritance (Gen. 12:7; 15:18–21; 17:8; Num. 34:1–29; Deut. 12:10). This inheritance is God’s gracious gift, not something that Israel earned by its righteousness (Deut. 9:4–7). Descriptions of the land (“flowing with milk and honey”) and its fertility portray this gift as a new Eden, where God will dwell with his people (Exod. 3:8, 17; Lev. 20:24; Num. 16:13–14; Deut. 11:9–12). In some texts the language of inheritance moves beyond the land of Canaan to an international scope. In Ps. 2:8 the anointed king recounts God saying to him, “Ask me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession.” This expansion of inheritance from the land of Canaan to the ends of the earth prepares the way for a similar expansion in the NT (see Rom. 4:13).

God’s relationship with Israel is also described in terms of inheritance. On the one hand, Israel is described as God’s inheritance (Deut. 32:9; 1 Sam. 10:1; 1 Kings 8:51–53); on the other hand, God is Israel’s inheritance (Pss. 16:5; 73:26; Jer. 10:16; 51:19). This mutuality expresses the intimacy of God’s relationship with Israel.

New Testament. Inheritance language is taken up in the NT and expanded in a variety of ways. First and foremost, Jesus Christ is the “heir of all things,” the Son to whom the Father has given all authority in heaven and on earth (Matt. 28:18–20; Heb. 1:2–5). Through their union with Christ, believers share in Christ’s inheritance (Rom. 8:17), having been qualified by the Father to share in that inheritance (Col. 1:12). What believers inherit is described in various ways: the earth (Matt. 5:5), eternal life (Luke 10:25), the kingdom (1 Cor. 6:9–10; James 2:5), salvation (Heb. 1:14), blessing (Heb. 12:17; 1 Pet. 3:9). This inheritance was enacted by the death of Christ and sealed by his blood (Heb. 9:15–28). Believers experience the benefits of this inheritance through the Spirit now (Eph. 1:14, 18), but its fullness is reserved in heaven and awaits the consummation (1 Pet. 1:4–6).

The connection between the believer’s inheritance and the Spirit is especially prominent in Paul. In Gal. 4:1–7 Paul uses a combination of exodus and legal imagery to explain the gospel. Before Christ came, God’s people were heirs under the care of guardians and trustees. But once Christ came and redeemed them from under the law, they received their full inheritance as adopted sons and daughters. Central to that inheritance is the gift of the Spirit, who cries out, “Abba, Father.” It is this gift of the Spirit that definitively marks believers as sons and daughters rather than slaves. Because believers possess the Spirit as an inheritance in fulfillment of the promise to Abraham (Gal. 3:14; cf. Isa. 44:3–5), they have moved from bondage under the law to freedom in Christ (Gal. 5:1).

One of the many pictures of salvation that the Bible uses is new birth. Peter praises God because “he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead” (1 Pet. 1:3). In his conversation with Nicodemus, Jesus states, “No one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again” (John 3:3). He goes on to explain further that this act of new birth is the work of the Spirit (John 3:5–8). What Jesus speaks of, God had promised in the OT (Ezek. 36:25–27). Paul uses similar language when he asserts that God “made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions” (Eph. 2:5). Because of our sinful rebellion against God, humanity is spiritually dead. God the Father makes alive those who are spiritually dead by the work of the Spirit through the resurrection of Jesus. This new birth is the starting point for the believer’s moral transformation. See also Regeneration.

Simon Peter is the best-known and the most colorful of Jesus’ twelve disciples. The name “Peter” means “rock” in Greek. In some biblical texts, he is also called “Cephas,” which is the Aramaic word for “rock” (see esp. John 1:42). Despite the ups and downs of Peter’s spiritual life, God was able to use him as the foundational apostle for the establishment of the NT church. Peter first met Jesus immediately after Jesus’ baptism, when Peter’s brother, Andrew, heard John the Baptist’s identification of Jesus as the Lamb of God (John 1:35). In classic missionary style, “the first thing Andrew did was to find his brother Simon and tell him, ‘We have found the Messiah’ ” (John 1:41). Peter’s official call to ministry took place later, when he was fishing on the Sea of Galilee and Jesus issued the well-known invitation “Come, follow me, . . . and I will send you out to fish for people” (Matt. 4:19).

Peter was the chief spokesman for the disciples at Caesarea Philippi when Jesus asked them, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” (Matt. 16:13). Peter responded, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God,” an insight given him by God the Father (16:16–17). Jesus promised him, “I tell you that you are Peter [petros], and on this rock [petra] I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (16:18). Yet Peter almost immediately became a “stumbling block” to Jesus when he chided Jesus for saying that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things and be killed (16:21–22). Another major failure by Peter came with his threefold denial of Jesus after Jesus had warned him, “This very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times” (Matt. 26:34). Fortunately, there were tears of repentance, and Peter was forgiven and restored after Jesus’ threefold question (“Do you love me?” [John 21:15–19]).

Jesus’ death and resurrection, as well as the giving of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost, had stabilizing effects on Peter. After Jesus’ ascension, Peter exercised primary leadership among the other disciples during the upper room prayer meetings and the choosing of the replacement for Judas (Acts 1). Peter clearly was the public spokesman for the apostles on the day of Pentecost and a key player in the establishment of the church in Jerusalem (Acts 2–5), in receiving the first Samaritan converts (Acts 8:14–25), and in receiving Cornelius as the first Gentile convert (Acts 10–11). Following Peter’s miraculous deliverance from prison in Acts 12, he essentially disappears from recorded history. By the time of the Jerusalem council (Acts 15), Peter reappeared briefly, but by this time he had been replaced by James as the leader of the Jerusalem church. Peter apparently continued to live as a missionary (1 Cor. 9:5), specifically “to the circumcised” (Gal. 2:7–8), for the rest of his life. Yet Peter was still human, and on one occasion Paul gave him a stinging rebuke (Gal. 2:11–21).

During his travels, Peter undoubtedly visited the recipients of his later letter 1 Peter (and possibly 2 Peter) in north central Asia Minor (the regions of “Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia” [1 Pet. 1:1]), possibly Corinth (1 Cor. 1:12; 3:22), and, at least by the end of his life, Rome itself. According to tradition, he was put to death by Nero between AD 64 and 68, apparently by being crucified upside down (cf. John 21:18–19). Peter’s life is a vivid illustration of the Christian’s fight for faith, God’s gracious provision, and Jesus’ intercession on his behalf (“I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail” [Luke 22:32]).

The eastern half of the dual Roman province of Pontus and Bithynia. Pontus was the northeast region of Asia Minor (modern Turkey), north of the province of Galatia, on the south shore of the Black Sea. Its Persian dynasty under Mithridates VI ended with the Roman conquest by Pompey in 63 BC. Christianity spread to Pontus early: Jews from Pontus were present at Pentecost (Acts 2:9); Peter’s first letter addresses believers in Pontus (1 Pet. 1:1). Paul worked and traveled with Aquila (husband of Priscilla), a native of Pontus (Acts 18:2). The location and terrain of Pontus favored its prosperous trade economy.

The Phenomenon of Prophecy

A prophet is a messenger of God, a person to whom God entrusts his message to an individual or to a nation. Indeed, the last book in the OT is named “Malachi,” which means “my messenger.” Isaiah heard God ask, “Whom shall I send?” and he cried out, “Send me!” (Isa. 6:8). A good template for understanding the phenomenon is Moses and Aaron. Moses was to tell Aaron what to say, and Aaron would say it. “Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘See, I have made you like God to Pharaoh, and your brother Aaron will be your prophet’ ” (Exod. 7:1).

Prophets such as Isaiah were privy to what transpires in heaven, where decisions were being made that control the course of human history. Micaiah describes how he has seen God in the company of the heavenly host deliberating on how to entice Ahab to his death (1 Kings 22:13–23). All the other “prophets” in Ahab’s court were false, since they did not have knowledge of the events beyond human ken, as only true prophets can. Only one who has encountered God in this way can speak as an agent of the heavenly court.

For every true prophet in Israel, there were many false prophets. Moses set guidelines for distinguishing them. True prophets prophesy in accordance with revealed religion. If a prophet contradicts the law, for example, and calls Israel to worship another god, this is not a true prophet (Deut. 18:20). Also, if a prophet predicts something that does not come to pass, that is also a false prophet (Deut. 18:21–22). These criteria are not mechanical and automatic, however. Sometimes a prophet may appear to contradict prior revelation (Jer. 26:11), and sometimes the predicted judgment is staved off by national repentance (Jon. 4). Also, sometimes God may test the people with a false prophet who makes a true prediction (Deut. 13:1–3).

True prophets occasionally exhibited bizarre behavior. Saul, while pursuing David, was suddenly possessed by the Spirit of God and lay naked day and night, prophesying. This caused the people to ask if Saul was now one of the prophets (1 Sam. 19:24). Even in the ancient world, prophets were considered a bit crazy (2 Kings 9:11; Jer. 23:9; 29:26; Hos. 9:7). The phenomenon he experienced is referred to as “ecstasy.” The practice of tongues in the NT church also seems to have been ecstatic behavior. Paul notes that observers would call practitioners “out of your mind” (1 Cor. 14:23). At Pentecost, some observers thought that the apostles were drunk. Peter replied that they were not drunk but rather had the Spirit upon them (Acts 2:15–21).

The word “prophet” refers to one who foretells the future. Of course, many people cannot accept the notion of real prophecy and thus regard all prophecy as an illusion. Either the text was written after the fact, or it was couched in such general terms that it is no miracle that it came true, or else it was a lucky guess. The text itself, however, wants to be read as real prophecy, and Christians before the modern age read it as such. After all, to reject the supernatural elements in the Bible ultimately leads to rejecting the resurrection of Christ.

However, the modern Christian should not focus on the predictive part of the prophets’ message to such an extent that the “forthtelling” element is neglected. Forthtelling is the prophets’ chief ministry—calling the people to mercy and justice, to obedience to the law and fidelity to God. Christians who believe the Bible should take seriously the predictions about the future, but even more so the challenges about the present.

The Books of Prophecy in the Old Testament

The OT of Catholic and Protestant Bibles is roughly organized around the Greek translation of the OT, the Septuagint. Thus, Daniel is considered a prophetic book, and the prophets are separated from the historical books by the poetical books. However, the Hebrew Bible has a different organization. It has only eight “books” of prophecy, divided into the Former Prophets and the Latter Prophets. The Former Prophets are Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. Traditionally, Samuel wrote Judges. The books of 1 Samuel and 2 Samuel form one scroll, as do 1 Kings and 2 Kings. The book of Samuel bears the name of the prophet, and Kings is substantially about Elijah and Elisha. The four Former Prophets witness to the outworking of the covenant sanctions, from the Israelites’ entry into the promised land to their expulsion from it.

Usually, when Christians speak of the prophets, they are referring to the Latter Prophets, plus Daniel. In Catholic and Protestant Bibles there are four Major Prophets: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel; and twelve Minor Prophets: Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi. Many other prophets ministered in Israel but have no scroll that bears their name. Thus, the ones listed above can be called the “writing prophets.”

Isaiah. The book of Isaiah preserves the sermons from the prophet who ministered during the time when Hezekiah was king of Judah, the southern kingdom. Isaiah saw Jerusalem surrounded by the Assyrian army and assured the king that God would deliver his people. That message of salvation is the overall theme of the book, a salvation universal in scope and focused on the figure of the Suffering Servant. Isaiah claims that this servant of God would be wounded and “cut off from the land of the living” (Isa. 53:8) and through this would bring healing and salvation to his people. He would see this and make many righteous (Isa. 53).

The NT refers to Isaiah more often than any other prophet, always to demonstrate that the truths of the gospel of Jesus Christ were revealed in advance by the prophet. For example, Paul cites Isa. 1:9 in his argument as to why the Jews had rejected the gospel (Rom. 9:29). When Jesus withdrew to the area of Zebulun and Naphtali, Matthew says that this act fulfilled Isa. 9:1–2 (Matt. 4:15–16). Jesus himself cites Isa. 53:12, “[he] was numbered with the transgressors,” and claims that it was written about him (Luke 22:37). He does the same with Isa. 61:1–2 (Luke 4:18–21).

Jeremiah. The book of Jeremiah puts in writing the words of the prophet Jeremiah, who ministered at the very end of the kingdom of Judah and lived through the destruction of Jerusalem, with its temple and the people of God being taken away to forced exile and captivity. He sees the weakness and powerlessness of the covenant that God had made with his people to stir up love and fidelity in their hearts to him. According to Jeremiah, what the people chiefly need is a new covenant altogether, one that is not external and written on tablets of stone, but internal, written on their hearts. They need a change of personality to become a different sort of people altogether. This is what Jeremiah predicts will happen in the coming age after their time of captivity is over (Jer. 31:31–40). The NT identifies this new covenant with the gospel of Jesus (Heb. 8:8–12), secured by his blood (Heb. 10:16–17). This is the new covenant that Jesus announces to his disciples when he eats the Last Supper with them (Luke 22:20).

Ezekiel. The book of Ezekiel picks up where Jeremiah leaves off and continues from the destruction of Jerusalem into the early years of the Babylonian captivity. Like Jeremiah, Ezekiel sees the failure of the old covenant. He likens Israel to a married woman who violates her marriage covenant at every turn (Ezek. 16). The prophet also foresees a future character transformation of God’s people. “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws” (Ezek. 36:26–27). This is graphically illustrated in Ezek. 37, where the prophet is told to prophesy to a valley of dry bones, and through the preaching of the word of God the company of the dead come to life and become a vast army—not of skeletons, but of vitally alive warriors. This is a vision of what will happen when God makes an everlasting covenant with them and will dwell with them forever (Ezek. 37:26–27). Paul cites this in 2 Cor. 6:16 and argues, “We are the temple of the living God.” The last part of Ezekiel describes a great, larger-than-life temple that Paul interprets to be the church. Thus, Ezekiel anticipates the preaching of the gospel, bringing spiritual life to a vast company of believers, among whom God himself will dwell.

Daniel. The book of Daniel is not a prophetic book by genre, but much of it is devoted to predicting the future, so in Catholic and Protestant Bibles it is placed between Ezekiel and the Minor Prophets. Prophecy calls the people to repentance and threatens judgment on them due to their sin. Daniel does the opposite: it calls them to persevere as saints, while the evil nations oppress them, until the end of time, when they will be vindicated. Daniel comforts the faithful who are suffering due to the sins of the nations.

The Twelve. The twelve Minor Prophets follow a roughly chronological sequence (with some notable exceptions). Hosea, Amos, and Micah date from the rise of Assyria as the great power that threatened Israel and Judah. Nahum, Habakkuk, and Zephaniah date from near the end of Assyrian dominance and the rise of Babylon. The Babylonian exile is skipped, and the last three—Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi—were written after the Jews’ restoration to the land of Judah. Joel, Obadiah, and Jonah are difficult to date with certainty.

Read as one book, the Minor Prophets tell a story of God’s constancy and fidelity even though everything else in the world changes. They begin with all twelve tribes intact and enjoying prosperity in the land. In Judah, there is a king on the throne of David. But by the end, most of the tribes are lost, the monarchy is no more, Jerusalem and the temple have been destroyed, and the Jews are under the heel of foreign powers. After all of that, God says to them, almost as the moral of the whole history of the OT, “I the Lord do not change. So you, the descendants of Jacob, are not destroyed. Ever since the time of your ancestors you have turned away from my decrees and have not kept them. Return to me, and I will return to you” (Mal. 3:6–7). Deeply explored in the Minor Prophets is the day of the Lord, the climax and denouement of history, in which all the words of the prophets will finally be fulfilled (see Joel and Zephaniah). The reader is given, as a picture of this day, a view of the repentance of one generation of Ninevites at the preaching of Jonah and of the final judgment to fall on that city as described by Nahum.

The NT cites the Minor Prophets much more often than any book of prophecy except Isaiah. Peter draws upon Joel 2:28–32 to explain the pouring out of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:17–21). James cites Amos 9:11–12 to demonstrate that salvation was always intended for the Gentiles as well as the Jews (Acts 15:16–17). Paul quotes Hab. 2:4 to argue that righteousness before God comes through faith (Rom. 1:17; Gal. 3:11). Jesus says that like Jonah, he will return to the land of the living after three days (Matt. 12:38–41).

Prophecy in the New Testament

In the NT period there were a number of prophets. John the Baptist could point to Jesus and proclaim him to be the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world (John 1:29). Agabus the prophet predicted a famine and, later, Paul’s arrest (Acts 11:28; 21:10–11).

Paul lists “gifts of the Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:4–11), including prophecy and various phenomena reminiscent of the OT prophets’ ecstatic state. Paul warns the Corinthians not to overdo this sort of thing and so to be mature (1 Cor. 14:19–20). Near the end of his life, in one of his last letters, he speaks of prophecy as normative in the church, particularly in establishing an authoritative body of elders to rule and especially to preach the gospel (1 Tim. 1:18; 4:14). Peter draws a connection between the ministry of the OT prophets and the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Evangelism seems to be the normative mode for prophecy today: forthtelling by calling people to turn from their sins to Jesus, and foretelling by speaking of his return and the final judgment.

Thus, all Christians hold the office of prophet, even if they never participate in the ecstatic state experienced by the Corinthians. The greatness of a prophet is in how clearly the prophet points to Jesus. John the Baptist was the greatest of the OT prophets by that measure, but any Christian on this side of the cross and resurrection can proclaim the gospel even more clearly. Thus, the prophetic ministry of any Christian is greater than John’s (Matt. 11:11).

The Phenomenon of Prophecy

A prophet is a messenger of God, a person to whom God entrusts his message to an individual or to a nation. Indeed, the last book in the OT is named “Malachi,” which means “my messenger.” Isaiah heard God ask, “Whom shall I send?” and he cried out, “Send me!” (Isa. 6:8). A good template for understanding the phenomenon is Moses and Aaron. Moses was to tell Aaron what to say, and Aaron would say it. “Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘See, I have made you like God to Pharaoh, and your brother Aaron will be your prophet’ ” (Exod. 7:1).

Prophets such as Isaiah were privy to what transpires in heaven, where decisions were being made that control the course of human history. Micaiah describes how he has seen God in the company of the heavenly host deliberating on how to entice Ahab to his death (1 Kings 22:13–23). All the other “prophets” in Ahab’s court were false, since they did not have knowledge of the events beyond human ken, as only true prophets can. Only one who has encountered God in this way can speak as an agent of the heavenly court.

For every true prophet in Israel, there were many false prophets. Moses set guidelines for distinguishing them. True prophets prophesy in accordance with revealed religion. If a prophet contradicts the law, for example, and calls Israel to worship another god, this is not a true prophet (Deut. 18:20). Also, if a prophet predicts something that does not come to pass, that is also a false prophet (Deut. 18:21–22). These criteria are not mechanical and automatic, however. Sometimes a prophet may appear to contradict prior revelation (Jer. 26:11), and sometimes the predicted judgment is staved off by national repentance (Jon. 4). Also, sometimes God may test the people with a false prophet who makes a true prediction (Deut. 13:1–3).

True prophets occasionally exhibited bizarre behavior. Saul, while pursuing David, was suddenly possessed by the Spirit of God and lay naked day and night, prophesying. This caused the people to ask if Saul was now one of the prophets (1 Sam. 19:24). Even in the ancient world, prophets were considered a bit crazy (2 Kings 9:11; Jer. 23:9; 29:26; Hos. 9:7). The phenomenon he experienced is referred to as “ecstasy.” The practice of tongues in the NT church also seems to have been ecstatic behavior. Paul notes that observers would call practitioners “out of your mind” (1 Cor. 14:23). At Pentecost, some observers thought that the apostles were drunk. Peter replied that they were not drunk but rather had the Spirit upon them (Acts 2:15–21).

The word “prophet” refers to one who foretells the future. Of course, many people cannot accept the notion of real prophecy and thus regard all prophecy as an illusion. Either the text was written after the fact, or it was couched in such general terms that it is no miracle that it came true, or else it was a lucky guess. The text itself, however, wants to be read as real prophecy, and Christians before the modern age read it as such. After all, to reject the supernatural elements in the Bible ultimately leads to rejecting the resurrection of Christ.

However, the modern Christian should not focus on the predictive part of the prophets’ message to such an extent that the “forthtelling” element is neglected. Forthtelling is the prophets’ chief ministry—calling the people to mercy and justice, to obedience to the law and fidelity to God. Christians who believe the Bible should take seriously the predictions about the future, but even more so the challenges about the present.

The Books of Prophecy in the Old Testament

The OT of Catholic and Protestant Bibles is roughly organized around the Greek translation of the OT, the Septuagint. Thus, Daniel is considered a prophetic book, and the prophets are separated from the historical books by the poetical books. However, the Hebrew Bible has a different organization. It has only eight “books” of prophecy, divided into the Former Prophets and the Latter Prophets. The Former Prophets are Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. Traditionally, Samuel wrote Judges. The books of 1 Samuel and 2 Samuel form one scroll, as do 1 Kings and 2 Kings. The book of Samuel bears the name of the prophet, and Kings is substantially about Elijah and Elisha. The four Former Prophets witness to the outworking of the covenant sanctions, from the Israelites’ entry into the promised land to their expulsion from it.

Usually, when Christians speak of the prophets, they are referring to the Latter Prophets, plus Daniel. In Catholic and Protestant Bibles there are four Major Prophets: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel; and twelve Minor Prophets: Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi. Many other prophets ministered in Israel but have no scroll that bears their name. Thus, the ones listed above can be called the “writing prophets.”

Isaiah. The book of Isaiah preserves the sermons from the prophet who ministered during the time when Hezekiah was king of Judah, the southern kingdom. Isaiah saw Jerusalem surrounded by the Assyrian army and assured the king that God would deliver his people. That message of salvation is the overall theme of the book, a salvation universal in scope and focused on the figure of the Suffering Servant. Isaiah claims that this servant of God would be wounded and “cut off from the land of the living” (Isa. 53:8) and through this would bring healing and salvation to his people. He would see this and make many righteous (Isa. 53).

The NT refers to Isaiah more often than any other prophet, always to demonstrate that the truths of the gospel of Jesus Christ were revealed in advance by the prophet. For example, Paul cites Isa. 1:9 in his argument as to why the Jews had rejected the gospel (Rom. 9:29). When Jesus withdrew to the area of Zebulun and Naphtali, Matthew says that this act fulfilled Isa. 9:1–2 (Matt. 4:15–16). Jesus himself cites Isa. 53:12, “[he] was numbered with the transgressors,” and claims that it was written about him (Luke 22:37). He does the same with Isa. 61:1–2 (Luke 4:18–21).

Jeremiah. The book of Jeremiah puts in writing the words of the prophet Jeremiah, who ministered at the very end of the kingdom of Judah and lived through the destruction of Jerusalem, with its temple and the people of God being taken away to forced exile and captivity. He sees the weakness and powerlessness of the covenant that God had made with his people to stir up love and fidelity in their hearts to him. According to Jeremiah, what the people chiefly need is a new covenant altogether, one that is not external and written on tablets of stone, but internal, written on their hearts. They need a change of personality to become a different sort of people altogether. This is what Jeremiah predicts will happen in the coming age after their time of captivity is over (Jer. 31:31–40). The NT identifies this new covenant with the gospel of Jesus (Heb. 8:8–12), secured by his blood (Heb. 10:16–17). This is the new covenant that Jesus announces to his disciples when he eats the Last Supper with them (Luke 22:20).

Ezekiel. The book of Ezekiel picks up where Jeremiah leaves off and continues from the destruction of Jerusalem into the early years of the Babylonian captivity. Like Jeremiah, Ezekiel sees the failure of the old covenant. He likens Israel to a married woman who violates her marriage covenant at every turn (Ezek. 16). The prophet also foresees a future character transformation of God’s people. “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws” (Ezek. 36:26–27). This is graphically illustrated in Ezek. 37, where the prophet is told to prophesy to a valley of dry bones, and through the preaching of the word of God the company of the dead come to life and become a vast army—not of skeletons, but of vitally alive warriors. This is a vision of what will happen when God makes an everlasting covenant with them and will dwell with them forever (Ezek. 37:26–27). Paul cites this in 2 Cor. 6:16 and argues, “We are the temple of the living God.” The last part of Ezekiel describes a great, larger-than-life temple that Paul interprets to be the church. Thus, Ezekiel anticipates the preaching of the gospel, bringing spiritual life to a vast company of believers, among whom God himself will dwell.

Daniel. The book of Daniel is not a prophetic book by genre, but much of it is devoted to predicting the future, so in Catholic and Protestant Bibles it is placed between Ezekiel and the Minor Prophets. Prophecy calls the people to repentance and threatens judgment on them due to their sin. Daniel does the opposite: it calls them to persevere as saints, while the evil nations oppress them, until the end of time, when they will be vindicated. Daniel comforts the faithful who are suffering due to the sins of the nations.

The Twelve. The twelve Minor Prophets follow a roughly chronological sequence (with some notable exceptions). Hosea, Amos, and Micah date from the rise of Assyria as the great power that threatened Israel and Judah. Nahum, Habakkuk, and Zephaniah date from near the end of Assyrian dominance and the rise of Babylon. The Babylonian exile is skipped, and the last three—Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi—were written after the Jews’ restoration to the land of Judah. Joel, Obadiah, and Jonah are difficult to date with certainty.

Read as one book, the Minor Prophets tell a story of God’s constancy and fidelity even though everything else in the world changes. They begin with all twelve tribes intact and enjoying prosperity in the land. In Judah, there is a king on the throne of David. But by the end, most of the tribes are lost, the monarchy is no more, Jerusalem and the temple have been destroyed, and the Jews are under the heel of foreign powers. After all of that, God says to them, almost as the moral of the whole history of the OT, “I the Lord do not change. So you, the descendants of Jacob, are not destroyed. Ever since the time of your ancestors you have turned away from my decrees and have not kept them. Return to me, and I will return to you” (Mal. 3:6–7). Deeply explored in the Minor Prophets is the day of the Lord, the climax and denouement of history, in which all the words of the prophets will finally be fulfilled (see Joel and Zephaniah). The reader is given, as a picture of this day, a view of the repentance of one generation of Ninevites at the preaching of Jonah and of the final judgment to fall on that city as described by Nahum.

The NT cites the Minor Prophets much more often than any book of prophecy except Isaiah. Peter draws upon Joel 2:28–32 to explain the pouring out of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:17–21). James cites Amos 9:11–12 to demonstrate that salvation was always intended for the Gentiles as well as the Jews (Acts 15:16–17). Paul quotes Hab. 2:4 to argue that righteousness before God comes through faith (Rom. 1:17; Gal. 3:11). Jesus says that like Jonah, he will return to the land of the living after three days (Matt. 12:38–41).

Prophecy in the New Testament

In the NT period there were a number of prophets. John the Baptist could point to Jesus and proclaim him to be the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world (John 1:29). Agabus the prophet predicted a famine and, later, Paul’s arrest (Acts 11:28; 21:10–11).

Paul lists “gifts of the Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:4–11), including prophecy and various phenomena reminiscent of the OT prophets’ ecstatic state. Paul warns the Corinthians not to overdo this sort of thing and so to be mature (1 Cor. 14:19–20). Near the end of his life, in one of his last letters, he speaks of prophecy as normative in the church, particularly in establishing an authoritative body of elders to rule and especially to preach the gospel (1 Tim. 1:18; 4:14). Peter draws a connection between the ministry of the OT prophets and the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Evangelism seems to be the normative mode for prophecy today: forthtelling by calling people to turn from their sins to Jesus, and foretelling by speaking of his return and the final judgment.

Thus, all Christians hold the office of prophet, even if they never participate in the ecstatic state experienced by the Corinthians. The greatness of a prophet is in how clearly the prophet points to Jesus. John the Baptist was the greatest of the OT prophets by that measure, but any Christian on this side of the cross and resurrection can proclaim the gospel even more clearly. Thus, the prophetic ministry of any Christian is greater than John’s (Matt. 11:11).

Christ’s resurrection is the foundational event for the Christian faith. Paul goes so far as to say that if Christ did not rise, then the Christian faith is futile and Christians are to be pitied more than all others (1 Cor. 15:17–19). Resurrection’s climaxing position in all four Gospel narratives yields the same understanding. Christ came not merely to die, as some claim, but to conquer death. Resurrection gives everything that Christ did before his death an “of God” significance, and it establishes everything that follows as a guarantee of God’s eschatological promises. Without the resurrection, Jesus would have been just another “prophet hopeful” who died a tragic peasant death in Jerusalem. However, as it is, evidenced by the resurrection, he is the Son of God. According to the NT, the resurrection is the triumphant cry that God indeed did come to visit his creation and conquer the power of sin and death.

Old Testament

Resurrection hope is poorly attested by the OT, especially in earlier sections. References are made to death that seem to indicate that the dead have not ceased to exist, but such passages refer (at best) to death as a shadowy, nonlife existence (Job 26:5; Ps. 88:10; Ezek. 32:21). When early OT texts suggest that certain individuals experience everlasting life, they do so by escaping death altogether. Enoch (Gen. 5:24) walked with God and was simply taken away, while God dramatically picked up Elijah in a chariot of fire (2 Kings 2:11). Saul’s attempt at Endor to reawaken Samuel from death to receive his counsel (1 Sam. 28:3–14) speaks more to the superstition and disobedience of Saul than it does to Israel’s faith in life after death.

Some OT prophetic texts hint at a corporate restoration of life beyond the grave. It is a promise not of resurrection from death to life for the individual but of God’s unceasing love for corporate Israel that ultimately results in the redemption of his people from the snares of death (Hos. 6:1–3; 13:14). Although these texts are difficult to separate from Israel’s vision of postexilic national restoration, as in the vision of the valley of dry bones (Ezek. 37:1–14), they do indicate a growing sense of hope that God will restore Israel to renewed life in his presence after death. A similar trend may lie behind Job 14:14, where Job, after affirming the finality of individual death (14:12), still raises the question of a possible life after death. The basis for this notion rests on the affirmation that the living God, Job’s gracious redeemer, has power over death and will allow Job to see life after death (Job 19:25–26; cf. Ps. 16:10).

Daniel 12:2, which on the surface looks like a full-fledged teaching on individual resurrection, still falls short as a beneficial comparison to the teaching of Jesus. Although the Pharisees (along with a number of modern interpreters looking for OT foundations for individual resurrection) later used this as a proof text for individual resurrection, its context (Dan. 11) clearly suggests a struggle between nations, to which God eventually will reveal his eternal judgment. God will vindicate his people. Notwithstanding, OT language of eternal awakening to a new reality, good or bad, opens the door for further reflection on God’s eternal purpose and how it relates to human experience beyond death.

Intertestamental Period

The speculations of the intertestamental period portray a vast array of philosophical influences that affected the thinking of Second Temple Judaism. The conservative Sadducees, who may have accepted only the Torah as Scripture, understood Sheol (the state or abode of the dead) to be a place of unending sleep and thus denied resurrection (cf. Sir. 17:27–28; 30:17; Acts 23:8). Other groups, such as the Pharisees and the Essenes, were to a greater or lesser extent influenced by Hellenistic thinking on the relationship between spirit and matter. The lack of unity among these groups, especially the Pharisees, created a plethora of understandings concerning resurrection. Some, influenced by the Platonic idea that the soul/spirit is immortal and will be released at the death of the body, turned reflections on the afterlife into an issue of immortality (4 Macc. 14:5; 18:23). Others seem to have affirmed a physical resurrection but restricted it to either Israel or a righteous remnant thereof. This latter perspective easily connected to the view that all would be raised, the unrighteous for punishment, the righteous for reward and bliss.

It proves impossible, therefore, to determine to what extent Christian reflections during the first century influenced Jewish writers rather than vice versa. Sociologically speaking, the early Christians were one of the many parties of Judaism developing during that period. As the Gospels seem to suggest, they interacted, maybe especially, with the Pharisees.

New Testament

The OT’s relative silence on the issue of resurrection stands in stark contrast to the central position that it holds in the NT. All four Gospels build their narrative portrayal of Jesus’ ministry toward this climaxing event, and Jesus himself argued against the view of the Sadducees (Mark 12:18–27). Beyond the Gospel narratives, Paul makes resurrection the very heart of the Christian faith (1 Cor. 15); Hebrews understands resurrection as part of Christian elementary teaching (Heb. 6:1–2); James plays on the word “raise” as he explains the connection between faith and strength of life (James 5:15); Peter sees resurrection as the basis for Christian hope (1 Pet. 1:3); Revelation details the quality of the resurrected life (Rev. 21–22). In short, every part of the NT affirms the reality of a resurrection after death. It is the climactic evidence that God’s kingdom now dwells among people. God brings life; death will no longer have the last word.

The Gospels. The Gospels give four accounts of raisings from the dead. Strictly speaking, these are not resurrections but resuscitations. The people in question are not raised to eternal life but rather are brought back to life in their historical circumstances; they will later die again. The Gospels’ intertwining of the raising of Jairus’s daughter with the healing of the hemorrhaging woman (Mark 5:21–43 pars.) underscores the conceptual connection between life and God’s presence. First-century Judaism had come up bankrupt and could do nothing to help a woman whose bleeding made worship of God impossible. Now, however, life could be restored after death. Even the leader of the worship center, who could do nothing to help this woman, now saw his own daughter raised from the dead.

The raising of the widow’s son from Nain (Luke 7:11–17) similarly indicates that the days of the prophet Elijah had returned (1 Kings 17:8–24). God was again visiting his people and bringing life after death. Most spectacularly, Lazarus’s raising after four days in the grave (John 11:1–44) speaks directly to God’s power to bring life out of death in connection with OT understandings of the afterlife. The emphasis on the four days in the grave, along with Jesus’ pronouncement of himself as “resurrection and life” and his application of God’s revelatory name (“I am”) to himself, make this event stand out as anticipating what is soon to come in full. The same holds true in the unleashing of power at Jesus’ death, when graves spring open and the dead are raised (Matt. 27:51–53).

Paul’s letters. Paul’s teaching on resurrection anchors in eschatology, or vice versa. The reality and finality of death, introduced by Adam’s disobedience, are now overcome by Christ through his resurrection (1 Cor. 15:21–22). Christ’s resurrection evidences that God has ended death’s reign; it heralds the imminent coming of the end, a time when all who belong to Christ will be raised in like manner, and death will be no more (15:23–24).

Although at times Paul uses the language of body, soul, and spirit, he never falls prey to a Platonic dualism that separates body from soul, claiming that only the body dies while the soul remains immortal (1 Tim. 6:15b–16a). Rather, following Hebraic thinking, he understands resurrection as total transformation of the whole person, comparing it to what happens to a seed put in the ground. It must die before something completely new comes up (1 Cor. 15:36). The promise of resurrection is the promise that the death-marked human who is buried will, at the time of resurrection, be transformed and suited to live eternally in God’s presence. What is now perishable will become imperishable (1 Cor. 15:42–44). To Paul, this is not about getting rid of matter (the body) that is created by God, but about Christ’s restoration of what Adam destroyed (1 Cor. 15:49). It is the same understanding expressed in Rev. 21:1–5a, where John prophesies the transformation of both heaven and earth when God reestablishes his covenant relationship with his people.

Summary. Although the Gospels’ presentations of Jesus’ resurrection vary in some detail (probably due to purpose and audience), all of them treat the event as the theological centerpiece of the Gospel narrative. The resurrection story launches God’s eschatological work and opens the door, as the postresurrection appearances show, for a connection between the Jesus story and the church story. It is the foundation both for the Great Commission (Matt. 28:18–20) and for Pentecost (Luke 24:49). All people of all nations can now meet the living Christ.

The term “salvation” is the broadest one used to refer to God’s actions to solve the plight brought about by humankind’s sinful rebellion and its consequences. It is one of the central themes of the entire Bible, running from Genesis through Revelation.

Old Testament

In many places in the OT, salvation refers to being rescued from physical rather than spiritual trouble. Fearing the possibility of retribution from his brother Esau, Jacob prays, “Save me, I pray, from the hand of my brother Esau” (Gen. 32:11). The actions of Joseph in Egypt saved many from famine (45:5–7; 47:25; 50:20). Frequently in the psalms, individuals pray for salvation from enemies that threaten one’s safety or life (Pss. 17:14; 18:3; 70:1–3; 71:1–4; 91:1–3).

Related to this usage are places where the nation of Israel and/or its king were saved from enemies. The defining example of this is the exodus, whereby God delivered his people from their enslavement to the Egyptians, culminating in the destruction of Pharaoh and his army (Exod. 14:1–23). From that point forward in the history of Israel, God repeatedly saved Israel from its enemies, whether through a judge (e.g., Judg. 2:16; 3:9), a king (2 Kings 14:27), or even a shepherd boy (1 Sam. 17:1–58).

But these examples of national deliverance had a profound spiritual component as well. God did not save his people from physical danger as an end in itself; it was the necessary means for his plan to save them from their sins. The OT recognizes the need for salvation from sin (Pss. 39:8; 51:14; 120:2) but, as the NT makes evident, does not provide a final solution (Heb. 9:1–10:18). One of the clearest places that physical and spiritual salvation come together is Isa. 40–55, where Judah’s exile from the land and prophesied return are seen as the physical manifestation of the much more fundamental spiritual exile that resulted from sin. To address that far greater reality, God announces the day when the Suffering Servant would once and for all take away the sins of his people (Isa. 52:13–53:12).

New Testament

As in the OT, the NT has places where salvation refers to being rescued from physical difficulty. Paul, for example, speaks of being saved from various physical dangers, including execution (2 Cor. 1:8–10; Phil. 1:19; 2 Tim. 4:17). In the midst of a fierce storm, Jesus’ disciples cry out, “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!” (Matt. 8:25). But far more prominent are the places in the Gospels and Acts where physical healings are described with the verb sōzō, used to speak of salvation from sin. The healing of the woman with the hemorrhage (Mark 5:25–34), the blind man along the road (Luke 18:35–43), and even the man possessed by a demon (Luke 8:26–39), just to name a few, are described with the verb sōzō. The same verb, however, is also used to refer to Jesus forgiving someone’s sins (Luke 7:36–50) and to his mission to save the lost from their sins (Luke 19:10). Such overlap is a foretaste of the holistic salvation (physical and spiritual) that will be completed in the new heaven and earth (Rev. 21–22). The NT Epistles give extensive descriptions of how the work of Jesus Christ saves his people from their sins (see below).

Components

In several passages (e.g., Rom. 5:1–11; Eph. 2:1–10; Titus 3:4–7) “salvation” is clearly a summary term for the totality of what God has done for his people in and through Christ. Salvation is such a rich and multifaceted work of God that it takes a variety of terms to bring out its fullness. “Regeneration” refers to the new life that God imparts, bringing a person from spiritual death to spiritual life (John 3:3–8; Eph. 2:4–7; Titus 3:4–7). “Justification” speaks of God declaring a person not guilty in his court of law on the basis of Christ’s sacrificial death and life of perfect obedience (Rom. 3:21–5:12; Gal. 2:14–21). “Atonement” describes Christ’s payment for sin and resulting forgiveness (Rom. 3:21–26; Heb. 2:17). “Redemption” captures the reality of God paying the price to bring his people out of their slavery to sin and into the freedom of the Spirit (Gal. 4:1–7; 5:1). “Reconciliation” refers to God turning hardened rebels and enemies into his friends (Rom. 5:10–11; 2 Cor. 5:18–21; Col. 1:20–22). “Adoption” extends that reality into the astonishing truth that God makes those whom he reconciles not just his friends but his sons and daughters (Rom. 8:14–25; Gal. 4:1–7). In “sanctification” God sets his people apart for his special purposes and progressively changes them into the image of Christ (1 Cor. 1:30 ESV, NRSV, NASB; cf. Rom. 8:29). The final component is “glorification,” when God brings to completion the work of salvation by granting his people resurrection bodies, removing every last stain of sin, death, and the curse and placing them in a new heaven and earth (Rom. 8:30; 1 Cor. 15:35–57; Rev. 21–22).

Prepositions of Salvation

Another way that the Bible fills out the nature of salvation is through the various prepositions connected to it. The prepositions in the following list are among the more significant.

From. Since the basic idea of salvation is rescue from danger, it is not surprising that Scripture describes that from which believers are saved. David cries out to God, “Save me from all my transgressions” (Ps. 39:8). Salvation from sin is possible only through Jesus, for it is he who “will save his people from their sins” (Matt. 1:21). Reflecting on the work of Jesus on the cross, Paul claims that because of the sacrificial death of Christ believers are saved from God’s wrath (Rom. 5:9–10). At the same time, the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus saved people from their slavery to sin (Rom. 6:1–11). As a result of these and other things from which Christ has saved people, on the day of Pentecost Peter exhorts his audience to be saved “from this corrupt generation” (Acts 2:40). Thus, the unanimous testimony of Scripture is that believers have been saved from their sin and its consequences.

To/into. Believers are saved not merely from something; they are saved to/into certain states or conditions. Whereas they were once slaves, believers have now been saved “into the freedom and glory of the children of God” (Rom. 8:21 [cf. Gal. 5:1]). Through the cross God “has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son he loves” (Col. 1:13). Another way of stating this reality is to speak of the peace into which believers now have been brought as a result of Christ’s work on their behalf (John 14:27).

By. Scripture frequently uses the preposition “by” to express the instrument of salvation. Stated negatively, “It is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves” (1 Sam. 17:47). In the broadest sense, believers are saved from their sins by the gospel (1 Cor. 15:1–2). More specifically, salvation is by the grace of God (Eph. 2:5, 8). The preposition “by” can also express the agent of salvation. A distinguishing feature of Israel was that it was saved from its enemies by God (Deut. 33:29; Isa. 45:17). The same thing is meant when Scripture speaks of God saving his people by his right hand (Ps. 17:7) or his name (Ps. 54:1).

Through. The consistent testimony of the Bible is that salvation comes through faith (e.g., Eph. 2:8–9). Through faith, believers have been justified (Rom. 3:22; 5:1–2) and made children of God (Gal. 3:26). It is not righteousness based on the law that matters, “but that which is through faith in Christ” (Phil. 3:9). The remarkable actions of God’s people throughout history have been accomplished through faith (Heb. 11:1–40).

In. Especially in Paul’s writings the various components of salvation (see above) are modified with the phrase “in Christ” or “in him.” Believers are chosen (Eph. 1:4), redeemed (Eph. 1:7), justified (Gal. 2:17), and sanctified (1 Cor. 1:2) in Christ. Indeed, God has blessed believers “in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ” (Eph. 1:3).

With. Many of the components of salvation that believers experience are said to happen “with Christ.” Believers are united with Christ in his death, burial, and resurrection (Rom. 6:4–11; Gal. 2:20). With Christ, believers have been made alive, raised up, and seated in the heavenly realms (Eph. 2:4–6; Col. 2:13). Because of their union with Christ, believers share in his inheritance (Rom. 8:16–17; Gal. 3:29; 1 Pet. 1:4). Even the very life of the believer is said to be currently “hidden with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3).

Tenses of Salvation

The Bible speaks of salvation in the past, present, and future tenses. Pointing to a definitive experience in the past, Paul tells believers that “in this hope we were saved” (Rom. 8:24). Yet he can also speak of himself and other believers as those “who are being saved” (1 Cor. 1:18; 2 Cor. 2:15), pointing to a process that is ongoing. Just a few sentences after assuring believers that they have been justified already (Rom. 5:1–2), he can still say that believers will “be saved from God’s wrath” through Christ (Rom. 5:9–10).

The use of these three tenses reflects the “already and not yet” dynamic of salvation. Through the obedience, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus, God has rescued his people from their sins. But the final and complete realization of all the benefits of salvation must still await the return of Christ and the establishment of a new heaven and earth (Rev. 19–22).

Conclusion

Without a proper understanding of humankind’s plight as a result of its rebellion, the Bible’s repeated emphasis on salvation makes little sense. Because sin is humanity’s greatest problem, salvation is humanity’s greatest need. Given the breadth, width, and depth of what God has done to save his people from their sins through Jesus Christ, it is no wonder that the author of Hebrews asks, “How shall we escape if we ignore so great a salvation?” (2:3).

The Bible has much to say about suffering. While in the OT suffering is regularly an indication of divine displeasure (Lev. 26:16–36; Deut. 28:20–68; Ps. 44:10–12; Isa. 1:25; cf. Heb. 10:26–31), in the NT it becomes the means by which blessing comes to humanity.

The Bible often shows that sinfulness results in suffering (Gen. 2:17; 6:5–7; Exod. 32:33; 2 Sam. 12:13–18; Rom. 1:18; 1 Cor. 11:27–30). Job’s friends mistakenly assume that he has suffered because of disobedience (Job 4:7–9; 8:3–4, 20; 11:6). Job passionately defends himself (12:4; 23:10), and in the final chapter of the book God commends Job and condemns his friends for their accusations (42:7–8; cf. 1:1, 22; 2:10). The writer makes clear that suffering is not necessarily evidence of sinfulness. Like Job’s friends, Jesus’ disciples assume that blindness is an indication of sinfulness (John 9:1–2). Jesus rejects this simplistic notion of retributive suffering (John 9:3, 6–7; cf. Luke 13:1–5).

The prayers of suffering people are expressed in the sixteen communal and thirty-seven individual laments in the book of Psalms. Within the laments the writers describe their problems, express feelings, make requests, ask questions (“How long, Lord?” [13:1]; “Why have you forsaken me?” [22:1]), and lodge complaints against God (“My eyes fail, looking for my God [69:3]), enemies (“You have made us an object of derision to our neighbors, and our enemies mock us” [80:6]), and even themselves (“I am a worm and not a man” [22:6]).

The NT writers reveal that Jesus’ suffering was prophesied in the OT (Mark 9:12; 14:21; Luke 18:31–32; 24:46; Acts 3:18; 17:3; 26:22–23; 1 Pet. 1:11; referring to OT texts such as Ps. 22; Isa. 52:13–53:12; Zech. 13:7). The Lord Jesus is presented as the answer to human suffering: (1) Through the incarnation, God’s Son personally experienced human suffering (Phil. 2:6–8; Heb. 2:9; 5:8). (2) Through his suffering, Christ paid the price for sin (Rom. 4:25; 3:25–26), so that believers are set free from sin (Rom. 6:6, 18, 22) and helped in temptation (Heb. 2:18). (3) Christ Jesus intercedes for his suffering followers (Rom. 8:34–35). (4) Christ is the example in suffering (1 Pet. 2:21; 4:1; cf. Phil. 3:10; 2 Cor. 1:5; 4:10; 1 Pet. 4:13), and though he died once for sins (Heb. 10:12), he continues to suffer as his church suffers (Acts 9:4–5). (5) Christ provides hope of resurrection (Rom. 6:5; 1 Cor. 15:20–26; Phil. 3:10–11) and a future life without suffering or death (Rev. 21:4).

There are many NT examples of suffering believers (John 15:20–21; Acts 4:3; 5:18; 7:57–60; 8:1–3; 12:1–5; 14:19; 16:22–24; 18:17; 2 Cor. 6:4–5, 8–10; Heb. 10:32; 1 Pet. 5:9; Rev. 2:10). Suffering is part of God’s plan for his people (Acts 9:16; 1 Thess. 3:2–4) and is part of what it means to be a follower of Christ Jesus (Acts 14:22; Rom. 8:17; Phil. 1:29; 1 Pet. 2:21; 4:12).

The NT writers repeatedly mention the benefits of suffering, for it has become part of God’s work of redemption. The suffering of believers accompanies the proclamation and advancement of the gospel (Acts 5:41–42; 9:15–16; 2 Cor. 4:10–11; 6:2–10; Phil. 1:12, 27–29; 1 Thess. 2:14–16; 2 Tim. 1:8; 4:5) and results in salvation (Matt. 10:22; 2 Cor. 1:6; 1 Thess. 2:16; 2 Tim. 2:10; Heb. 10:39), faith (Heb. 10:32–34, 38–39; 1 Pet. 1:7), the kingdom of God (Acts 14:22), resurrection from the dead (Phil. 3:10–11), and the crown of life (Rev. 2:10). It is an essential part of the development toward Christian maturity (Rom. 5:3–4; 2 Cor. 4:11; Heb. 12:4; James 1:3–4; 1 Pet. 1:7; 4:1).

Suffering is associated with knowing Christ (Phil. 3:10); daily inward renewal (2 Cor. 4:16); purity, understanding, patience, kindness, sincere love, truthful speech, the power of God (2 Cor. 4:4–10); comfort and endurance (2 Cor. 1:6); obedience (Heb. 5:8); blessing (1 Pet. 3:14; 4:14); glory (Rom. 8:17; 2 Cor. 4:17); and joy (Matt. 5:12; Acts 5:41; 2 Cor. 6:10; 12:10; James 1:2; 1 Pet. 1:6; 4:13). Other positive results of Christian suffering include perseverance (Rom. 5:3; James 1:3), character and hope (Rom. 5:4), strength (2 Cor. 12:10), and maturity and completeness (James 1:4). Present suffering is light and momentary when compared to future glory (Matt. 5:10–12; Acts 14:22; Rom. 8:18; 2 Cor. 4:17; Heb. 10:34–36; 1 Pet. 1:5–7; 4:12–13).

Throughout the Bible, believers are instructed to help those who suffer. The OT law provides principles for assisting the poor, the disadvantaged, and the oppressed (Exod. 20:10; 21:2; 23:11; Lev. 19:13, 34; 25:10, 35; Deut. 14:28–29; 15:1–2; 24:19–21). Jesus regularly taught his followers to help the poor (Matt. 5:42; 6:3; 19:21; 25:34–36; Luke 4:18; 12:33; 14:13, 21). It is believers’ responsibility to show mercy (Matt. 5:7; 9:13), be generous (Rom. 12:8; 2 Cor. 8:7; 1 Tim. 6:18), mourn with mourners (Rom. 12:15), carry other’s burdens (Gal. 6:1–2), and visit prisoners (Matt. 25:36, 43). See also Servant of the Lord.

In English, a distinction between the words “temptation,” “test,” and “trial” (or “tribulation”) seems apparent. However, the biblical Greek noun peirasmos and verb peirazō translate these nouns and their related verbs, leaving context alone to determine meaning. In the understanding of the Scripture, temptation relates directly to test and trial.

Negatively, English Bibles choose “temptation” and “tempt” as the fitting translation for peirasmos and peirazō respectively. The devil, or Satan, is the origin; the purpose is to encourage sin and devastate human relationship with God (Matt. 4:1 pars.; 1 Cor. 7:5; Gal. 6:1; 1 Tim. 6:9; James 1:13). Satan personifies this purpose as the tempter (Matt. 4:3; 1 Thess. 3:5).

Positively, the English word “test” seems fitting. God tests his people to reveal the quality of their faith commitment (Gen. 22:1; Exod. 15:25; Judg. 2:22; Gal. 4:14). When God tests his enemies, it results in a hardening of their hearts (Exod. 14:4). When God tests his own people, it may look like judgment (Isa. 6:9–10; cf. Mark 6:52; Heb. 3:8; 4:7). The NT sees a direct link between the words peirazō and dokimazō (“to test, prove, approve”) and uses one to explain the other (2 Cor. 13:5–7; James 1:2–3, 12).

Neutrally, “trial” (or “tribulation”) translates the meaning. People may face trials in their Christian walk (Acts 20:19; 2 Cor. 8:2; James 1:2, 12; 1 Pet. 1:6) that may or may not lead to sin (Matt. 26:41; cf. Dan. 12:10). The sixth petition of the Lord’s Prayer (Matt. 6:13 // Luke 11:4) presupposes the understanding that God is sovereign over all human circumstances and therefore has the power to protect from trials that may lead to temptation and fall. Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane follows the same supposition (Mark 14:38).

This interconnectedness in the biblical understanding between temptation, test, and trial helps to explain some inherently difficult texts. There can be no sharp distinction made between temptation and test; God may use someone’s tribulation as a test to affirm faith, while Satan uses the same as an avenue for temptation to commit sin. A prime OT example of such interconnectedness is the parallel texts in 2 Samuel and 1 Chronicles that describe David as both tested by God (2 Sam. 24:1) and tempted by Satan (1 Chron. 21:1) in regard to taking a census of Israel.

When humans tempt/test God, they provoke him to prove his power (Exod. 17:1–7) by acting as if he does not exist (Ps. 14:1). God’s firm prohibition against this (Deut. 6:13–16) exposes it as a violation of his relationship with humans (Matt. 4:7; Acts 5:9; 15:10).

Hermeneutics is the science and practice of interpretation. It can refer more generally to the philosophy of human understanding, or more specifically to the tools and methods used for interpreting communicative acts.

Human communication takes place in a variety of ways: through the use of nonverbal signs, through speech, and through writing. Effective communication requires some degree of shared belief, knowledge, and background between the participants. If the communicators have a significant amount of common ground, they will be able to successfully understand one another with little extra effort. Conversely, individuals with vastly different backgrounds will need to take extra steps to communicate effectively, such as defining special terms, avoiding jargon and colloquialisms, appreciating details about the other’s cultural assumptions, or learning a foreign language.

The Bible is not exempt from this process of communication. The Scriptures are meant to be read, understood, and put into practice (Luke 8:4–15; James 1:18), a task that requires effort and study on the part of its readers (Acts 17:11; 2 Tim. 2:15). Everyone who reads the Bible is involved in this interpretative process, though readers will vary in their hermeneutical self-consciousness and skill. Thus, although readers are able to understand and appropriate much of the Bible without any special training in hermeneutical principles, such training is appropriate and helpful, both in attaining self-consciousness in interpretation and in acquiring new skills and insights in the effort to become a better reader.

The Development of Hermeneutics

The church has benefited from a long history of thinking about the nature and purpose of interpreting its Scriptures, and that reflection has resulted in a wide variety of hermeneutical theories and practices. How does one determine the meaning of a text? Is meaning the truth embedded within the passage? Or is it the original author’s intention in writing? Or does the text act independently of its author and history, either because it stands on its own terms or because it only “means” anything in interaction with readers? The answers to these questions will determine how readers approach a text, the questions they expect that text to answer, and the tools they use in interpretation.

From the early church to the Enlightenment. The early church emphasized the ability of the biblical text to convey heavenly truth, whether that truth was conceived as doctrinal teaching or absolute ethical rules. While the “literal meaning” of many texts could often supply simple truths and maxims, such a reading was at other times inadequate and could appear incompatible with what were considered basic and fundamental beliefs. Various allegorical techniques were therefore employed to explain such problematic texts. Interpreters often viewed the literal and historical features of the text as a starting point in the search for fuller meaning, as symbolic pointers to moral principles, absolute truths, or eternal realities. These practices were systematized throughout the Middle Ages and resulted in an extensive development of tradition. Church tradition, in turn, provided a degree of protection from the potential for arbitrariness in allegorical techniques, insisting that interpretation must be guided by the “rule of faith,” the traditional teaching and faith of the church.

Beginning in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, scholarship moved to distance itself from such tradition. The Protestant Reformers, dissatisfied with the rule of church tradition, sought to displace its authority with the direct rule of Scripture. They therefore returned to the original biblical text, engaging in critical study of the text itself and translating the Bible into the vernacular to make it more widely accessible. In the centuries that followed, Enlightenment scholars went a step further in their rejection of the church as the sole repository of knowledge. Instead, they asserted, knowledge was acquired through scientific inquiry and critical study. Such inquiry could be applied to any field: the forces of nature, human anatomy, or the interpretation of texts. The meaning of a text was not some abstract truth or heavenly principle; rather, meaning was determined by the human author’s original intention in writing and was therefore a historical matter. The intention of an author could be better exposed and understood through a more complete study of both the language in which a text was written and the historical circumstances that surrounded it. Many of these same emphases had been championed by the Protestant Reformers; yet the Enlightenment thinkers differed on one key point: the Reformers never questioned that the text was the word of God.

From the Enlightenment to the present. This favorable attitude toward historical research dwindled over the centuries. In its place authors emphasized the primacy of the text as text, apart from any connection to its origin and history. Literature, it is argued, ultimately operates independently from its author’s intention. All that matters is the text, and it is the reader’s job to understand the text on its own terms, apart from the contingencies surrounding its creation. To that end, interpreters should pay careful attention to the text’s literary features, including its plot structure, characterization, themes, and use of imagery. An interesting example of this hermeneutical dynamic is found in John 19:22, where Pilate asserts, “What I have written, I have written.” Pilate’s words quickly take on significance far beyond their author’s intention, primarily because they are juxtaposed with other themes in John, such as testimony and the kingship of Christ.

More recent approaches have emphasized the role of the reader in the construction of meaning. Interpretation, it is argued, is determined by the interaction between reader and text; readers bring their own presuppositions to the task of interpretation, and such assumptions determine meaning. The author and the historical context of the text will exert some influence, but the primary determinant of meaning is the present reader in his or her present environment. This is not to say that the text “means” whatever a reader wants it to mean; rather, it makes meaning contingent upon the contemporary environment and not subject to anything external to individual readers. On the one hand, readers must“actualize” the text by applying and appropriating it within an environment alien to the original. On the other, readers have the right, and in some cases the responsibility, of undermining the text, particularly if that text assists in the oppression of others.

Elements of an Effective Hermeneutic

An effective hermeneutic requires keeping each of these elements in constant balance with one another. God’s word is truthful and fully trustworthy, yet it is given to his people through individual human authors, authors who wrote in a particular context to a particular audience at a particular time. Understanding the Bible therefore requires knowledge of the purposes of these authors in their specific historical contexts. Nevertheless, our primary access to authorial intention is through the biblical text itself. Finally, understanding always requires personal interaction with, and application of, the text of Scripture to each person’s own life and circumstances. Thus, hermeneutics involves the simultaneous interaction of a variety of perspectives—truth, author, text, and reader—each of which cannot function properly without the others. What follows here is an outline of the most important hermeneutical tools required for such a weighty endeavor.

Linguistics

An appreciation of the nature, structure, and function of language is fundamental to any interpretative endeavor. Obviously, this applies first of all to the specific languages in which the books of the Bible were originally composed. Each language has its own unique vocabulary, grammar, and syntax, and structures available to a writer in one language often are absent in another. Thus, while it is often necessary and acceptable to rely on translations (Neh. 7:73–8:12), readers should be aware that translation itself involves a degree of unavoidable interpretation.

A more general analysis of language is also useful. Understanding the typical patterns by which authors will string sentences together is necessary for following a writing’s train of thought. This tool, called “discourse analysis,” operates above the sentence level, attempting to understand and explain how sentences function in conjunction with one another in order to produce meaningful paragraphs, and how those paragraphs in turn operate within the overarching purpose of the discourse. These patterns of discourse can vary on the basis of book, author, language, culture, and literary genre, but there are also features of effective discourse common to all communication. Thus, while the principles and rules of communication are often intuitively grasped, understanding language, both generally and specifically, is foundational to the task of interpretation.

Literature and Literary Theory

The biblical writers are concerned not only with the informational content of their writing, but also with the manner in which that content is communicated. The words, patterns of speech, style, and imagery of any text provide significant insight into its purpose and message, apart from that text’s specific propositional content. The diversity of language used in the Gospels provides an example of this. Each of the four Gospel authors has a slightly different concern in his writing. John’s purpose, “that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31), explains his frequent use of courtroom language, such as “testimony” and “witness” (e.g., John 21:24). Mark, by contrast, sweeps the reader along a fast-paced and intensely personal exposition of Jesus’ life and death through the terseness and immediacy of his narration. Attention to these literary details allows the reader to more fully participate in the world of the text.

Such decisions will often depend upon a thorough analysis of genre. A reader naturally interprets historical narrative differently from poetry and didactic material. Furthermore, the conventions of different genres change over time. The book of Acts, for example, despite its essentially historical character, does not appear concerned with recording an exact dictation of the many speeches it reports, despite modern expectations that historical writing should be as precise as possible. The classification of ancient genres and the description of their respective conventions therefore require a good deal of analysis and sensitivity, but often such insights are provided by a careful and open reading of the text.

History

As the product of a particular author at a particular time, each book of the Bible is situated within its own unique historical context. Paul, for example, while perhaps conscious of the importance of his letters for posterity, wrote to specific churches or individuals with a singular purpose. This particularity of author, audience, and circumstance can often cause interpretative problems. Thus, while background studies are not always necessary to get the general idea of the author’s message, they can be invaluable in protecting readers from anachronism and enabling them to better appreciate the author’s purpose and perspective.

Historical study is assisted by specialized disciplines. Archaeology, for example, focuses on the beliefs, habits, practices, and history of ancient cultures, harnessing a wealth of evidence to that end. Similarly, anthropology and other social sciences are able to explore facets of modern cultures in order to better assess cross-cultural presuppositions and behaviors, many of which provide insight into ancient civilizations that shared similar attitudes. These methods provide the reader with the information necessary to understand a text in terms consistent with its cultural backdrop, highlighting both the similarities and the differences between the Bible and its environment. Recent discoveries of ancient Hittite treaties, for example, shed light on the “cutting ceremony” recorded in Gen. 15. These treaties detail similar ceremonies in which the vassal of a king would walk between hewed animal carcasses as a symbol of allegiance; if disobedience occurred, the vassal would share the fate of the animals. A similar ceremony occurs in Genesis, but with an interesting twist at the end: God, not Abram, passes through the pieces (15:17).

Humility and the Attitude of the Reader

Careful attention in interpretation requires a great deal of humility. It is difficult to overstate the importance of the attitude of the reader for an effective hermeneutic. Being a good reader requires willingness to share and participate in the world of the author and the text, a willingness that postpones judgment and expects personal change. This, in turn, requires a spirit of self-criticism, a commitment to defer one’s own presuppositions in favor of those of the text. Although readers are never able to fully distance themselves from their cultural situation and assumptions, the study of hermeneutics, among other things, can provide tools and skills for self-criticism and self-awareness, skills that enable the reader to better understand, appreciate, and appropriate the meaning of a text. Even a peripheral understanding of the complexities of interpretation can help readers develop an attitude of humility, imagination, and expectation as they approach the Scriptures.

Such humility is a prerequisite for application. The depth of meaning embedded in any text, and especially within the Bible, provides the humble reader with a rich and powerful tool for personal growth. Having better understood the world of the text on its own terms, readers are able to “project” that world onto themselves and their environment, to appropriate its meaning in a new and possibly foreign context. Thus, Jesus promises that those who hear, understand, and put his word into practice will yield a crop “some thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times what was sown” (Mark 4:20).

Unique Features of Biblical Interpretation

Certain unique features of the biblical text can create special opportunities and challenges for the Christian interpreter. These challenges are at work in the Bible’s own interpretation of itself. The Bible was written by many different authors over the course of a long period of history; it is therefore not surprising to find later authors reflecting on earlier periods. This innerbiblical interpretation offers the Christian insights into the unique nature of biblical hermeneutics and therefore provides a foundational model in approaching the Bible as the word of God.

The common and preeminent assumption that grounds innerbiblical interpretation is the commitment to ultimate divine authorship. Thus, the writer of Hebrews, though affirming the diversity of human authorship in the Bible (1:1), regularly introduces OT quotations with statements such as “God says” (1:5), “he spoke through David” (4:7), and “the Holy Spirit says” (3:7). Other writers tend to prefer the formula “it is written,” but each of these reflects a common presupposition that the Scriptures are ultimately delivered by God (2 Pet. 1:21).

Divine authorship means, at the very least, that there is a depth of meaning and purpose to the text, a depth often hidden even from the human author (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Psalm 2, for example, probably originally served as a coronation hymn used to celebrate the appointment of a new king in Israel. Yet the NT understands this psalm as a prophecy fulfilled in the resurrection of Jesus Christ (Acts 13:33; Heb. 5:5). The intention of the original speaker can even be at odds with God’s intention, such as when Caiaphas claims, “It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish” (John 11:50; cf. Acts 5:35–39). In this case, the irony of Caiaphas’s statement creates a powerful testimony, contrary to his intent, and is used by John to promote confidence in Jesus.

Furthermore, because the Scriptures are from God, they have a consistent and central focus. The NT unhesitatingly views all of Scripture, in all its diversity, as focused, by virtue of divine inspiration, on the person and work of Jesus Christ. This is seen in, for example, Luke 24:13–35, where the resurrected Jesus, “beginning with Moses and all the Prophets,” explains to his disciples “what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself” (cf. John 5:39; 12:41). This central focus on Christ requires the Christian interpreter to understand any individual verse in light of its context within the canon, to operate with the same assumption as the NT apostles, that all the Scriptures are concerned with testifying to Jesus the Christ.

Additionally, Paul views both Testaments as the special possession and once-for-all foundation of God’s church (Eph. 2:19–20; cf. Acts 2:42). The church, from a NT perspective, is the primary audience of the entirety of Scripture (1 Pet. 1:12) and is therefore uniquely entrusted with understanding and proclaiming its message (Matt. 28:18–20). While the Scriptures themselves are the only infallible guide for interpretation, believers should not forsake the teaching and tradition of the church (2 Thess. 2:15).

Finally, full understanding of the Bible requires the work of the Holy Spirit in conjunction with the faith of the reader. Belief and understanding go together (John 10:38), and both are the result of the unique work of the Holy Spirit (16:13). The proof that such understanding has taken place is the godly life of the believer (Rom. 2:13; James 1:22–25). The reverse is also true: disobedience works against understanding the riches of God’s Word (James 1:21). Such considerations underline the importance of the hermeneutical task. The tools and principles of hermeneutics are valuable only insofar as they enable the reader to better understand and appropriate the biblical message, to hear the word of God and respond appropriately.

Simon Peter is the best-known and the most colorful of Jesus’ twelve disciples. The name “Peter” means “rock” in Greek. In some biblical texts, he is also called “Cephas,” which is the Aramaic word for “rock” (see esp. John 1:42). Despite the ups and downs of Peter’s spiritual life, God was able to use him as the foundational apostle for the establishment of the NT church. Peter first met Jesus immediately after Jesus’ baptism, when Peter’s brother, Andrew, heard John the Baptist’s identification of Jesus as the Lamb of God (John 1:35). In classic missionary style, “the first thing Andrew did was to find his brother Simon and tell him, ‘We have found the Messiah’ ” (John 1:41). Peter’s official call to ministry took place later, when he was fishing on the Sea of Galilee and Jesus issued the well-known invitation “Come, follow me, . . . and I will send you out to fish for people” (Matt. 4:19).

Peter was the chief spokesman for the disciples at Caesarea Philippi when Jesus asked them, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” (Matt. 16:13). Peter responded, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God,” an insight given him by God the Father (16:16–17). Jesus promised him, “I tell you that you are Peter [petros], and on this rock [petra] I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (16:18). Yet Peter almost immediately became a “stumbling block” to Jesus when he chided Jesus for saying that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things and be killed (16:21–22). Another major failure by Peter came with his threefold denial of Jesus after Jesus had warned him, “This very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times” (Matt. 26:34). Fortunately, there were tears of repentance, and Peter was forgiven and restored after Jesus’ threefold question (“Do you love me?” [John 21:15–19]).

Jesus’ death and resurrection, as well as the giving of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost, had stabilizing effects on Peter. After Jesus’ ascension, Peter exercised primary leadership among the other disciples during the upper room prayer meetings and the choosing of the replacement for Judas (Acts 1). Peter clearly was the public spokesman for the apostles on the day of Pentecost and a key player in the establishment of the church in Jerusalem (Acts 2–5), in receiving the first Samaritan converts (Acts 8:14–25), and in receiving Cornelius as the first Gentile convert (Acts 10–11). Following Peter’s miraculous deliverance from prison in Acts 12, he essentially disappears from recorded history. By the time of the Jerusalem council (Acts 15), Peter reappeared briefly, but by this time he had been replaced by James as the leader of the Jerusalem church. Peter apparently continued to live as a missionary (1 Cor. 9:5), specifically “to the circumcised” (Gal. 2:7–8), for the rest of his life. Yet Peter was still human, and on one occasion Paul gave him a stinging rebuke (Gal. 2:11–21).

During his travels, Peter undoubtedly visited the recipients of his later letter 1 Peter (and possibly 2 Peter) in north central Asia Minor (the regions of “Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia” [1 Pet. 1:1]), possibly Corinth (1 Cor. 1:12; 3:22), and, at least by the end of his life, Rome itself. According to tradition, he was put to death by Nero between AD 64 and 68, apparently by being crucified upside down (cf. John 21:18–19). Peter’s life is a vivid illustration of the Christian’s fight for faith, God’s gracious provision, and Jesus’ intercession on his behalf (“I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail” [Luke 22:32]).

The choice or selection of a person or group, especially God’s determination of who will be saved.

Terminology

On occasion, the language of being “elect” is used as a description of Christ, or perhaps even a title. Isaiah, in one of his Servant Songs, gives a description that is probably best taken as a veiled reference to Christ in his unique relationship with the Father: “Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen [or ‘elect’] one in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will bring justice to the nations” (Isa. 42:1). There is similar usage in the NT, where Jesus is described in 1 Pet. 2:6 (using a quotation from Isa. 28:16): “For in Scripture it says: ‘See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen [or ‘elect’] and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.’ ”

Many times the word “elect” is used in Scripture as a synonym for believers. For example, Jesus speaks of the future time when “he will send his angels with a loud trumpet call, and they will gather his elect from the four winds, from one end of the heavens to the other” (Matt. 24:31). Similarly, Peter addresses his first letter “to God’s elect” (1 Pet. 1:1). John does something similar in his second letter, addressed to “the lady chosen by God [KJV, RSV: “elect lady”] and to her children, whom I love in the truth” (2 John 1).

Election and Salvation

There is more to this terminology, though, than simply a descriptive name for Christ or God’s people. Other passages are more explanatory in nature and imply a definite and active place for God’s involvement in the salvation process. For example, Peter continues on in his introduction to his first letter with a description of the elect as those “who have been chosen [KJV: ‘elect’] according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled with his blood” (1 Pet. 1:2). Here there is the key question of how we should understand the role of God’s foreknowledge in the expression “chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father.” Some argue that this is simply telling us that God is able to look forward and know ahead of time who will exercise faith and be saved, so salvation is simply based on a purely human decision after all.

However, Rom. 9 suggests otherwise. This chapter, perhaps more than any other, sheds light on God’s election of his people. Paul is in the process of explaining how God’s plan of redemption (which he has been developing in Rom. 1–8) applies to his own Jewish people. If the gospel is really as powerful as Paul claims, why has it produced so little fruit among God’s own covenant people, the Jews? Paul answers, “It is not as though God’s word had failed. For not all who are descended from Israel are Israel” (9:6). Then, in the following verses, Paul explains what he means by “not all Israel are Israel.” Not every child of Abraham is a child of faith (9:7–13). The promise has come only through Isaac, and not through Abraham’s other sons, Ishmael and the six sons of Keturah (see Gen. 25:1). Similarly, the line of promise and blessing does not involve all of Isaac and Rebekah’s children either, but only Jacob and not Esau (9:10–13). Here Paul explains, “Before the twins were born or had done anything good or bad—in order that God’s purpose in election might stand: not by works but by him who calls” (9:11–12). In support of this conclusion, Paul quotes from Mal. 1:2–3: “Just as it is written: ‘Jacob I loved, but Esau I hated’ ” (9:13). The bottom line, according to Paul, is not one’s ancestry at all, but God’s own choice. God tells Moses in Exod. 33:19, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion” (quoted in Rom. 9:15). Paul gives his summary of election: “It does not, therefore, depend on human desire or effort, but on God’s mercy” (9:16). He rests his case with the classic OT illustration of God’s hardening of Pharaoh (9:17) before concluding, “Therefore God has mercy on whom he wants to have mercy, and he hardens whom he wants to harden” (9:18).

Romans 9 is not an isolated passage of Scripture. The apostle John says much the same of Jesus’ ministry, and how salvation is specifically to all “those who believed in his name”; to them “he gave the right to become children of God—children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God” (John 1:12–13). The last part of this passage is key: salvation ultimately depends not upon “natural descent” or one’s human ancestry (including whether one is Jewish or not), nor upon “human decision” (including any and all acts of the human will), nor upon a “husband’s will” (a more difficult expression that probably refers to the decisions of others in the family), but solely and ultimately only on being “born of God.”

Hardening of Hearts and the Nonelect

Certainly, there is a mystery in all of this. There is no easy way to understand the negative process of the hardening of Pharaoh’s heart or to explain the mechanics of the positive process of election. Scripture often describes God himself as the one who has hardened the hearts of various individuals. In Exod. 4:21, for example, God says to Moses, “I will harden [Pharaoh’s] heart so that he will not let the people go.” Other times, Scripture is less clear and simply tells us that “Pharaoh’s heart became hard” (Exod. 7:13). Then there are still other times when Pharaoh himself is described as being actively involved in this process of hardening his own heart, such as “when Pharaoh saw that there was relief, he hardened his heart and would not listen to Moses and Aaron” (Exod. 8:15). Undoubtedly, the best way to understand this is to see a negative response such as the hardening of a person’s heart as a combination of the active will of fallen human beings and the mysterious workings of a sovereign God. In a similar way, both salvation and spiritual growth are other spiritual realities that also involve the mysterious combination of God’s direct involvement in people’s lives and the necessity of their own human response. Paul captures this tension in Phil. 2:12–13: “Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.”

There is also the question of the nonelect, sometimes put in terms of “reprobation” or “double predestination.” If God is actively involved in the positive act of bringing human beings into a proper relationship with himself in salvation, is he actively involved equally in choosing those who will never respond in faith and will suffer an eternity of judgment apart from him? Again, Christians are divided, and simplistic overgeneralizations do little to advance our understanding of this topic. Those who give precedence to God’s sovereignty in their understanding of the process of salvation usually see a greater involvement of God in the decisions of those who do not respond in faith; those who emphasize human involvement in salvation will also emphasize human decision in those who do not respond.

Those who emphasize God’s sovereignty in this mystery of the faith lean toward the Calvinistic or Reformed end of the scale. They tend also to emphasize the total depravity of humanity: the notion not that people are as bad as they can possibly be, but simply that sin has tainted every area of the mind, will, and emotions, making a positive turning to God, apart from God’s grace, humanly impossible. They also emphasize the definite atonement, the doctrine that Christ died specifically for the elect. On the other hand, those who emphasize human involvement, often called “Arminians,” tend to emphasize the importance of human free will in order to create a sense of responsibility for one’s decisions. They also emphasize an unlimited atonement, the doctrine that Christ died potentially for anyone and everyone.

Summary

The proper balance in Scripture seems to involve both God’s sovereignty and human involvement. Peter captures some of this need for balance: “Therefore, my brothers and sisters, make every effort to confirm your calling and election. For if you do these things, you will never stumble” (2 Pet. 1:10). Election is ultimately God’s work, but at the same time there is a human involvement in it. Charles Spurgeon’s illustration seems appropriate here. Human will and predestination are like the two rails on a railroad track: everywhere we look they are separate and distinct and thus irreconcilable; yet it is only off in the distance (really in the mind of God himself) that these two complementary truths come together in their perfect resolution. There is no question that “elect” and “election” are biblical terms; the key question is how to understand this difficult topic and to work out all the logical implications in terms of sharing the gospel with others in a meaningful and appropriate manner.

Conversion, signifying “to turn around” or a change of course in life, is closely related to repentance, although the two are by no means synonymous.

Conversion as part of God’s saving work. Both the OT and the NT present conversion as a crucial stage of God’s saving work for people. The leading metaphor for conversion in the OT is turning back (from sin, to God), mostly conveyed by the Hebrew word shub and its derivatives (turning from immorality and injustice and toward God in Isa. 55:7; turning away from idols in Ezek. 14:6). The NT likewise uses the metaphor of turning. Another metaphor for conversion is that of birth, evidenced in concepts such as becoming God’s children (Matt. 18:3), rebirth (1 Pet. 1:3), and being born again or born from above (John 3:3).

Although the rich concept of conversion may reflect an enormous range of events and actions in one’s life, what is central to the claim of conversion appears to be a definitive and radical change in one’s beliefs and practices. Conversion typically accompanies or, in some accounts, follows repentance of one’s sinful life. The call for repentance permeates the prophetic teachings in the OT, and it is significant that both John the Baptist and Jesus began their public ministry with their own prophetic call for repentance (Matt. 3:1–2; Mark 1:14–15). What distinguishes the NT teaching on repentance from its OT counterpart is that in the OT the prophets operated with the assumption that their audience was already in the covenantal relationship with God (“return to your God” [often using the Hebrew word shub]), whereas in the NT the invitation is extended to the Gentiles to “turn to God” (see Acts 26:20). In this regard, conversion is more distinctively a NT and Christian idea, firmly rooted in the broader sense of repentance.

The idea that humans need conversion to get right with God implies that the status quo of human existence, characterized by sin, is inadequate. God therefore has taken initiative to change it radically. In this sense, conversion is fundamentally God’s work applied to humans. In addition, conversion clearly requires a human response, which can take many different forms. The emotional component of one’s conversion experience can vary: both exuberance resulting from knowing the merits of redemption and sorrow prompted by recognizing the seriousness of one’s destitution are part of the complex spectrum of emotions relating to conversion. In the account of the Philippian jailor’s conversion (Acts 16), the jailor shows his desperation to escape his present crisis, a desire to be saved, and the joy that follows his decision to turn to Christ. Zacchaeus’s conversion is noteworthy for his willful reversal of his wrongdoings at a high personal and financial cost (Luke 19:8).

The conversion experience. It will be fruitful to use the most famous conversion account in the Bible as a template to understand the conversion experience in general. The biblical record of Paul’s conversion (Acts 9:1–27; 22:1–21; 26:9–23; see also 1 Cor. 9:1; 15:8–10; Gal. 1:15–17) demonstrates at least these distinct elements: (1) encountering the unknown yet powerful (mysterious, divine, etc.) being; (2) realizing one’s wrongdoings in the past; (3) surrendering to that being; (4) hearing the call for one’s life and gaining a renewed sense of direction.

Probably echoing OT metaphors of conversion and drawing from his own conversion experience, Paul describes the experience of Gentile believers as “turn[ing] to God from idols to serve the living and true God” (1 Thess. 1:9). Paul himself had a radical “turning around” on the road to Damascus, and he explained in his account before King Agrippa that his mission, as spoken to him by the risen Jesus, was to turn Jews and Gentiles “from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God” (Acts 26:18). Although the accounts of individual conversion experiences show rich variations, all converts essentially have made this transition.

Conversion, signifying “to turn around” or a change of course in life, is closely related to repentance, although the two are by no means synonymous.

Conversion as part of God’s saving work. Both the OT and the NT present conversion as a crucial stage of God’s saving work for people. The leading metaphor for conversion in the OT is turning back (from sin, to God), mostly conveyed by the Hebrew word shub and its derivatives (turning from immorality and injustice and toward God in Isa. 55:7; turning away from idols in Ezek. 14:6). The NT likewise uses the metaphor of turning. Another metaphor for conversion is that of birth, evidenced in concepts such as becoming God’s children (Matt. 18:3), rebirth (1 Pet. 1:3), and being born again or born from above (John 3:3).

Although the rich concept of conversion may reflect an enormous range of events and actions in one’s life, what is central to the claim of conversion appears to be a definitive and radical change in one’s beliefs and practices. Conversion typically accompanies or, in some accounts, follows repentance of one’s sinful life. The call for repentance permeates the prophetic teachings in the OT, and it is significant that both John the Baptist and Jesus began their public ministry with their own prophetic call for repentance (Matt. 3:1–2; Mark 1:14–15). What distinguishes the NT teaching on repentance from its OT counterpart is that in the OT the prophets operated with the assumption that their audience was already in the covenantal relationship with God (“return to your God” [often using the Hebrew word shub]), whereas in the NT the invitation is extended to the Gentiles to “turn to God” (see Acts 26:20). In this regard, conversion is more distinctively a NT and Christian idea, firmly rooted in the broader sense of repentance.

The idea that humans need conversion to get right with God implies that the status quo of human existence, characterized by sin, is inadequate. God therefore has taken initiative to change it radically. In this sense, conversion is fundamentally God’s work applied to humans. In addition, conversion clearly requires a human response, which can take many different forms. The emotional component of one’s conversion experience can vary: both exuberance resulting from knowing the merits of redemption and sorrow prompted by recognizing the seriousness of one’s destitution are part of the complex spectrum of emotions relating to conversion. In the account of the Philippian jailor’s conversion (Acts 16), the jailor shows his desperation to escape his present crisis, a desire to be saved, and the joy that follows his decision to turn to Christ. Zacchaeus’s conversion is noteworthy for his willful reversal of his wrongdoings at a high personal and financial cost (Luke 19:8).

The conversion experience. It will be fruitful to use the most famous conversion account in the Bible as a template to understand the conversion experience in general. The biblical record of Paul’s conversion (Acts 9:1–27; 22:1–21; 26:9–23; see also 1 Cor. 9:1; 15:8–10; Gal. 1:15–17) demonstrates at least these distinct elements: (1) encountering the unknown yet powerful (mysterious, divine, etc.) being; (2) realizing one’s wrongdoings in the past; (3) surrendering to that being; (4) hearing the call for one’s life and gaining a renewed sense of direction.

Probably echoing OT metaphors of conversion and drawing from his own conversion experience, Paul describes the experience of Gentile believers as “turn[ing] to God from idols to serve the living and true God” (1 Thess. 1:9). Paul himself had a radical “turning around” on the road to Damascus, and he explained in his account before King Agrippa that his mission, as spoken to him by the risen Jesus, was to turn Jews and Gentiles “from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God” (Acts 26:18). Although the accounts of individual conversion experiences show rich variations, all converts essentially have made this transition.

Conversion, signifying “to turn around” or a change of course in life, is closely related to repentance, although the two are by no means synonymous.

Conversion as part of God’s saving work. Both the OT and the NT present conversion as a crucial stage of God’s saving work for people. The leading metaphor for conversion in the OT is turning back (from sin, to God), mostly conveyed by the Hebrew word shub and its derivatives (turning from immorality and injustice and toward God in Isa. 55:7; turning away from idols in Ezek. 14:6). The NT likewise uses the metaphor of turning. Another metaphor for conversion is that of birth, evidenced in concepts such as becoming God’s children (Matt. 18:3), rebirth (1 Pet. 1:3), and being born again or born from above (John 3:3).

Although the rich concept of conversion may reflect an enormous range of events and actions in one’s life, what is central to the claim of conversion appears to be a definitive and radical change in one’s beliefs and practices. Conversion typically accompanies or, in some accounts, follows repentance of one’s sinful life. The call for repentance permeates the prophetic teachings in the OT, and it is significant that both John the Baptist and Jesus began their public ministry with their own prophetic call for repentance (Matt. 3:1–2; Mark 1:14–15). What distinguishes the NT teaching on repentance from its OT counterpart is that in the OT the prophets operated with the assumption that their audience was already in the covenantal relationship with God (“return to your God” [often using the Hebrew word shub]), whereas in the NT the invitation is extended to the Gentiles to “turn to God” (see Acts 26:20). In this regard, conversion is more distinctively a NT and Christian idea, firmly rooted in the broader sense of repentance.

The idea that humans need conversion to get right with God implies that the status quo of human existence, characterized by sin, is inadequate. God therefore has taken initiative to change it radically. In this sense, conversion is fundamentally God’s work applied to humans. In addition, conversion clearly requires a human response, which can take many different forms. The emotional component of one’s conversion experience can vary: both exuberance resulting from knowing the merits of redemption and sorrow prompted by recognizing the seriousness of one’s destitution are part of the complex spectrum of emotions relating to conversion. In the account of the Philippian jailor’s conversion (Acts 16), the jailor shows his desperation to escape his present crisis, a desire to be saved, and the joy that follows his decision to turn to Christ. Zacchaeus’s conversion is noteworthy for his willful reversal of his wrongdoings at a high personal and financial cost (Luke 19:8).

The conversion experience. It will be fruitful to use the most famous conversion account in the Bible as a template to understand the conversion experience in general. The biblical record of Paul’s conversion (Acts 9:1–27; 22:1–21; 26:9–23; see also 1 Cor. 9:1; 15:8–10; Gal. 1:15–17) demonstrates at least these distinct elements: (1) encountering the unknown yet powerful (mysterious, divine, etc.) being; (2) realizing one’s wrongdoings in the past; (3) surrendering to that being; (4) hearing the call for one’s life and gaining a renewed sense of direction.

Probably echoing OT metaphors of conversion and drawing from his own conversion experience, Paul describes the experience of Gentile believers as “turn[ing] to God from idols to serve the living and true God” (1 Thess. 1:9). Paul himself had a radical “turning around” on the road to Damascus, and he explained in his account before King Agrippa that his mission, as spoken to him by the risen Jesus, was to turn Jews and Gentiles “from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God” (Acts 26:18). Although the accounts of individual conversion experiences show rich variations, all converts essentially have made this transition.

The foundational story in all of the OT is the story of creation, found in Gen. 1–2. Throughout the history of interpretation there have been many approaches to understanding these chapters. In the modern world, discoveries from both science and archaeology have challenged some traditional convictions, and debates continue to rage. Still, what Gen. 1–2 communicates is generally clear: (1) it establishes Yahweh, the God of Israel, as the God by whose word all exists; (2) it presents for ancient readers a compelling argument for why they should worship Israel’s God and not other gods of the ancient world. On this second point, it must be remembered that Israel’s belief in one God flew in the face of contemporary religious notions, where each nation had a high god along with lesser gods. Hence, when reading Gen. 1–2, we must keep in mind its ancient polemical dimension rather than approaching it with modern expectations.

The differing perspectives of Genesis 1 and 2. Even a quick reading of Gen. 1–2 shows that the perspectives on creation in the two chapters are somewhat different. Genesis 1 is ordered famously as a seven-day process, whereby humanity is created as the pinnacle of God’s work on day six. On the seventh day, as is well known, God rested. Much has been made among some Christians about the need to read this chapter literally, but that no longer seems to be the dominant view. Much less is a scientific explanation winning the day (where the details of the text correspond to certain scientific models, which are themselves disputed). A commonly accepted understanding of these chapters among Christians goes by various names, and it attempts to account for the poetic structure of Gen. 1. In Gen. 1:2 we read that the earth was “formless and empty.” What follows is a description of God providing “form” in days one through three and then a corresponding filling of the “emptiness” in days four through six. Hence, in day one God separates light from darkness, and in day four he fills the void with the sun, the moon, and the stars. Day two yields the expanses between the waters and the sky, and day five fills the voids with water creatures and sky creatures. Day three yields the land and vegetation, and day six fills the void with land creatures, the crowning achievement being humanity.

Genesis 2 provides a different perspective on the events. It seems that humanity is created before there were any shrubs or plants. Apart from this difference in order, more important is the focus on Adam and Eve and their role in creation, as those called to work the land together. These two perspectives are not contradictory, since one can easily understand Gen. 2 as explicating Gen. 1:26–30. Modern scholarship has largely assigned these two versions to two different literary sources (see Documentary Hypothesis), a theory based not only on the different perspectives of the two stories but also on other differences, such as language and style. Regardless of the alleged origins of these stories, however, they are presented to us together in the OT. As a unit, along with what follows in Gen. 3–11, these early chapters in Genesis in some ways stand in stark contrast to creation stories of the ancient Mesopotamian world, while at the same time adopting many of the concepts and much of the language of those stories.

Modern and ancient questions. To enter into this discussion is to ask, “What are these opening chapters of Genesis trying to say? How did the Israelites hear the creation story in Genesis?” It sometimes is tempting to read the creation story and ask modern questions. For example, “How does the Genesis creation narrative conform to scientific knowledge?” Modern questions such as these are not, in and of themselves, out of bounds. In fact, they may be unavoidable to a certain degree. But we must remember that ancient Israelites did not ask such questions. In the ancient Near East described in Genesis, which is thousands of years old, there was no science in any sense close to the way we think of it today.

The creation story was written not to answer modern questions but rather to address Israel’s questions. Beginning about the middle of the nineteenth century and into the early twentieth century, archaeologists discovered a number of creation stories from different peoples of the ancient Near East that help put the biblical account in context. These accounts tell stories of creation in which a number of gods are responsible. In one prominent example from ancient Babylon, creation was a result of a bloody conflict among the gods. Genesis 1 shares some of the descriptions of one or more of these other accounts (e.g., light exists before the creation of the sun, the moon, and the stars).

The theology of creation. Where Gen. 1 stands out is in its insistence that Israel’s God alone created the world through his spoken word. The purpose of such a declaration is not to satisfy contemporary intellectual curiosities about the nature of matter or the first moments of the universe’s existence. Its purpose is to declare to the Israelites that their God, not the gods of the ancient world, is responsible for everything there is, and that he alone is the one, therefore, who is worthy of their worship. The creation story is not an intellectual exercise but rather a deeply religious one. The Israelites lived in a world where every surrounding nation had a plurality of gods (pantheon). The Israelites were different. They had one God, and this is the message that rings loud and clear from Gen. 1.

That Yahweh, Israel’s God, is alone the creator is not an abstract theological statement. It is a call to worship. This is why, for example, numerous passages in the OT burst out in praise of Yahweh the creator. One example is Ps. 19. God’s glory is so great and so apparent that even creation itself is said to speak of it. The psalm uses specific Genesis language: the “heavens” and the “firmament” proclaim what God has done (these words occur in Gen. 1:1, 6–8, and the Hebrew words in Gen. 1 and Ps. 19 are the same). Even though the heavens and the firmament have no powers of speech, as the psalm tells us (19:3–4), nevertheless they are “heard” throughout the world because of the awesomeness of the sun’s circuit (19:5–6). The message is this: if you want to see how great God is, look up.

But the psalm does not end there. David is not simply interested in a contemplative posture for his people. Six verses about creation are followed, somewhat abruptly, by eight verses about the law. Clearly, a connection between them is being established, and that connection seems to be fairly straightforward: knowing God as creator should have an effect on how you behave. The God who created the heavens is also the God who gave you the law, David seems to be saying. And as worthy as God is of praise for the creation (even the heavens and the firmament join in), so too is the law. It is to be desired more than gold or sweet honey (v. 10). Knowing God as creator has very practical implications.

Creation and re-creation. Another important recurrence of creation in the OT, which also has practical implications, concerns God’s saving activity. In brief, according to the OT (and the NT as well), when God saves his people, it is an act of “re-creation.” One can see this theme developed in numerous places. For example, God is Israel’s “maker” in texts such as Ps. 95:6; Hos. 8:14. These two texts are found in the context of God having delivered the Israelites from Egypt; their deliverance corresponds to their “creation” as God’s people. Similarly, Isa. 43:14–17 concerns Israel’s captivity in Babylon and what God will do to deliver his people. The prophecy describes their deliverance by using “exodus” language and in doing so refers to Yahweh as Israel’s “Creator” (v. 15).

This connection between creation and redemption (re-creation) is also well articulated in the NT. For example, the opening words of John’s Gospel echo the very first verses of the Bible: “in the beginning.” With the coming of Christ, there is a new beginning. His act of redemption is described as the act of a second or new Adam (Rom. 5:12–21; 1 Cor. 15:22). When one confesses faith in Christ, one is “born again” or “from above” (John 3:3, 7; see also John 1:13; 1 Pet. 1:3, 23). To be a Christian is to start over, to begin anew, or as Paul put it, “If anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” (2 Cor. 5:17). And in Rev. 22:2 paradise is described as containing a “tree of life,” to which God’s people once again have access. At the end, in other words, it will be as it was in the beginning. In the coming of Christ we see a new creation. That new creation is inaugurated in his first coming, where the church, his redeemed people, by the power of the Spirit, live as newly created beings in a fallen world. At his second coming, this new creation will be complete, and all creation will be redeemed.

The Diaspora (or the Dispersion) generally refers to Jews living outside the land of Israel. Especially by the first century AD, Jews lived throughout the Mediterranean world and Mesopotamia. Large populations of Jews lived in Egypt and in Babylon/Persia. Two Jewish communities in Egypt established temples: at Elephantine sometime from the fifth through the fourth centuries BC, and at Leontopolis in the second century BC.

According to 2 Kings 17:1–41, the first major relocation of Israelites occurred forcibly around 722 BC, when Samaria fell to Sargon II, king of Assyria. As punishment for breaking their subject obligations to Assyria, Sargon deported many Israelites elsewhere in the Assyrian Empire, a usual Assyrian practice. The Bible also records the deportations of Judeans by Babylon around the end of the seventh and beginning of the sixth century BC (2 Kings 24–25; Jer. 21; 25; 27; 29; 39; 52). It explains these forced dispersions, or exiles, as punishments for breaking covenant obligations to Yahweh (Lev. 26:31–39; Deut. 28:64–67). The Bible also notes some Jews relocating voluntarily (Jer. 40–43). Voluntary relocations likely constitute the primary source for Jews in the Diaspora.

According to Acts, Christianity’s spread was inseparably tied to the Diaspora. The initial large “conversion” that Acts records, at Pentecost, involves Jews from the Diaspora who have traveled to Jerusalem for the festival (Acts 2:5–13). Throughout the rest of Acts, the apostles and missionaries find refuge and audiences among many Diaspora Jewish communities. Even after Paul declares that he will turn to the Gentiles because the Jews have rejected the message (Acts 13:44–52), Diaspora communities continue to provide travel destinations and audiences for him (e.g., Acts 17:1–4, 10–12, 17; 18:1–11, 19; 28:17–30). Some NT authors label their recipients as those in the Diaspora (or Dispersion), perhaps a Christianizing deployment of the term (James 1:1; 1 Pet. 1:1–2).

The Hebrew word ’erets occurs 2,505 times in the OT and is most frequently translated “country” or “land.” “Earth” renders the Greek word gē in the NT. Not surprisingly, ’erets appears 311 times in Genesis alone, the book that initiates Israel’s landed covenant (Gen. 15:18). The primary uses of ’erets are cosmological (e.g., the earth) and geographical (e.g., the land of Israel). Other uses of ’erets include physical (e.g., the ground on which one stands) and political (e.g., governed countries) designations. Less frequently, “earth” translates the Hebrew word ’adamah (“country, ground, land, soil”).

Heaven and Earth

Israel shared the cosmology of its ancient Near Eastern neighbors. This worldview understood the earth as a “disk” upon the primeval waters (Job 38:13; Isa. 40:22), with the earth having four rims or “corners” (Ps. 135:7; Isa. 11:12). These rims were sealed at the horizon to prevent the influx of cosmic waters. God speaks to Job about the dawn grasping the edges of the earth and shaking the evil people out of it (Job 38:12–13). Similarly, the Akkadian text Hymn to the Sun-God states, “You [Shamash] are holding the ends of the earth suspended from the midst of heaven” (I:22). The earth’s boundaries were set against chaos (Ps. 104:7–9; Isa. 40:12). In this way, the Creator and the Savior cannot be separated because, taken together, God works against chaos in the mission of redemption (Ps. 74:12–17; Isa. 51:9–11). The phrase “heavens and earth” is a merism (two extremes representing the whole) for the entire universe (Gen. 1:1; Ps. 102:25). Over the earth arched a firm “vault” (Gen. 1:6). Heaven’s vault rested on the earth’s “pillars,” the mountains (Deut. 32:22; 1 Sam. 2:8). Below the heavens is the sea, part of the earth’s flat surface.

There was no term for “world” in the OT. The perception of world was basically bipartite (heaven and earth), though some tripartite expressions also occur (e.g., heaven, earth, sea [Exod. 20:11; Rev. 5:3, 13]). Though rare, some uses of ’erets may refer to the “underworld” or Sheol (Exod. 15:12; Jer. 17:13; Jon. 2:6). The earth can be regarded as the realm of the dead (Matt. 12:40; Eph. 4:9). However, the OT is less concerned with the organic structure of the earth than with what fills the earth: inhabitants (Ps. 33:14; Isa. 24:1), people groups (Gen. 18:18; Deut. 28:10), and kingdoms (Deut. 28:25; 2 Kings 19:15). The term ’erets can be used symbolically to indicate its inhabitants (Gen. 6:11). However, unlike its neighbors, Israel acknowledged no divine “Mother Earth,” given the cultural associations with female consorts.

The Theology of Land

In biblical faith, the concept of land combines geography with theology. The modern person values land more as a place to build than for its productive capacities. But from the outset, human beings and the “earth” (’erets) functioned in a symbiotic relationship with the Creator (Gen. 1:28). God even gave the land agency to “bring forth living creatures” (Gen. 1:24). The “ground” (’adamah) also provided the raw substance to make the human being (’adam [Gen. 2:7]). In turn, the human being was charged with developing and protecting the land (Gen. 2:5, 15). Showing divine care, the Noahic covenant was “between [God] and the earth” (Gen. 9:13). Thus, land was no mere onlooker; human rebellion had cosmic effects (Gen. 6:7, 17). The land could be cursed and suffer (Gen. 3:17; cf. 4:11).

Israel’s promised land was built on the sanctuary prototype of Eden (Gen. 13:10; Deut. 6:3; 31:20); both were defined by divine blessing, fertility, legal instruction, secure boundaries, and were orienting points for the world. Canaan was Israel’s new paradise, “flowing with milk and honey” (Exod. 3:8; Num. 13:27). Conversely, the lack of fertile land was tantamount to insecurity and judgment. As Eden illustrated for Israel, any rupture of relationship with God brought alienation between humans, God, and the land; this could ultimately bring exile, as an ethically nauseated land “vomits” people out (Lev. 18:25, 28; 20:22; see also Deut. 4; 30).

For Israel, land involved both God’s covenant promise (Gen. 15:18–21; 35:9–12) and the nation’s faithful obedience (Gen. 17:1; Exod. 19:5; 1 Kings 2:1–4). Conditionality and unconditionality coexisted in Israel’s relationship of “sonship” with Yahweh (Exod. 4:22; Hos. 11:1). Yahweh was the earth’s Lord (Ps. 97:5), Judge (Gen. 18:25), and King (Ps. 47:2, 7). Both owner and giver, he was the supreme landlord, who gifted the land to Israel (Exod. 19:5; Lev. 25:23; Josh. 22:19; Ps. 24:1). The land was God’s “inheritance” to give (1 Sam. 26:19; 2 Sam. 14:16; Ps. 79:1; Jer. 2:7). The Levites, however, did not receive an allotment of land as did the other tribes, since God was their “portion” (Num. 18:20; Ps. 73:26). Israel’s obedience was necessary both to enter and to occupy the land (Deut. 8:1–3; 11:8–9; 21:1; 27:1–3). Ironically, the earth swallowed rebellious Israelites when they accused Moses of bringing them “up out of a land flowing with milk and honey” (Num. 16:13). As the conquest shows, however, no tribe was completely obedient, taking its full “inheritance” (Josh. 13:1).

Land possession had serious ethical and religious ramifications (Deut. 26:1–11). Israel was not chosen to receive a special land; rather, land was the medium of Israel’s relationship with God. Land functioned as a spiritual barometer (Ps. 78:56–64; Lam. 1:3–5). The heavens and earth stood as covenant witnesses (Deut. 4:26). Blood, in particular, could physically pollute the land (Num. 35:30–34). National sin could culminate in expulsion (Lev. 26:32–39), and eventually the land was lost (Jer. 25:1–11). For this reason, Israel’s exiles prompted a profound theological crisis.

Inheritance

The notion of inheritance connected Israel’s religious worship with practical stewardship. Land was not owned; it was passed down through patrimonial succession. God entrusted each family with an inheritance that was to be safeguarded (Lev. 25:23–28; Mic. 2:1–2). This highlights the serious crime when Naboth’s vineyard was forcibly stolen (1 Kings 21). It was Israel’s filial sonship with Yahweh and Israel’s land tenure that formed Yahweh’s solidarity with the nation. The law helped limit Israel’s attachment to mere real estate: Yahweh was to be Israel’s preoccupation (see Jer. 3:6–25). When the nation was finally exiled, the message of the new covenant transcended geographical boundaries (Jer. 32:36–44; Ezek. 36–37; cf. Lev. 26:40–45; Deut. 30:1–10). In postexilic Israel, sanctuary was prioritized (Hag. 1:9–14).

It was Israel’s redefinition of land through the exile that prepared the way for the incorporation of the Gentiles (Ezek. 47:22–23), an integration already anticipated (Isa. 56:3–7). The prophets saw a time when the nations would share in the inheritance of God previously guarded by Israel (Isa. 60; Zech. 2:11; cf. Gen. 12:3). Viewed as a political territory, land receives no substantial theological treatment in the NT; rather, inheritance surpasses covenant metaphor. Using the language of sonship and inheritance, Paul develops this new Gentile mission in Galatians (cf. Col. 1:13–14). The OT land motif fully flowers in the NT teaching of adoption (cf. 1 Pet. 1:3–5). Both curse and covenant are resolved eschatologically (Rom. 8:19–22). Inheritance is now found in Christ (Eph. 2:11–22; 1 Pet. 1:4). In the economy of the new covenant, land tenure has matured in fellowship (koinōnia). Koinōnia recalibrates the ethical significance of OT land themes, reapplying them practically through inclusion, lifestyle, economic responsibility, and social equity.

Beyond cosmological realms, heaven and earth are also theological horizons still under God’s ownership. What began as the creation mandate to fill and subdue the earth (Gen. 1:28) culminates in the new creation with Christ (Rom. 8:4–25). Under the power of Satan, the earth “lags behind” heaven. Christ’s mission brings what is qualitatively of heaven onto the earthly stage, often using signs of the budding rule of God (Matt. 6:10; Mark 2:10–11; John 3:31–36; Eph. 4:9–13; Heb. 12:25). As Israel was to stand out in a hostile world (Deut. 4:5–8), now those of Abrahamic faith stand out through Christian love (John 13:34–35; Rom. 4:9–16). According to Heb. 4:1–11, Israel’s initial rest in the land (see Exod. 33:14; Deut. 12:9) culminates in the believers’ rest in Christ (Heb. 4:3, 5). The former inheritance of space gives way to the inheritance of Christ’s presence. The OT theme of land is ultimately fulfilled in Jesus’ exhortation to “abide in me” (John 15).

Earthquake–In Palestine there have been about seventeen recorded major earthquakes in the past two millennia. One of the major sources of these earthquakes is believed to originate from the Jordan Rift Valley. In antiquity earthquakes were viewed as fearful events because the mountains, which represented everlasting durability, were disturbed. The confession of faith is pronounced in association with such phenomena (“We will not fear, though the earth give way” [Ps. 46:2]). An earthquake must have made a great impact in Amos’s day (“two years before the earthquake” [Amos 1:1; cf. Zech. 14:5]).

An earthquake has many symbolic meanings. First, the power of God and his divine presence are manifested through it (Job 9:6; Ps. 68:8; Hag. 2:6). It accompanied theophanic revelation (Exod. 19:18; Isa. 6:4; 1 Kings 19:11–12) when the glory of the Lord appeared (Ezek. 3:12). His divine presence was especially felt when earthquakes occurred during the time of the crucifixion and the resurrection of Jesus Christ (Matt. 27:54; 28:2). It led the centurion to confess of Christ, “Surely he was the Son of God!” (Matt. 27:54). God’s salvation power is represented when an earthquake comes at the appropriate moment, such as when it freed Paul and Silas from prison (Acts 16:26).

Second, it is used in the context of God’s judgment (Isa. 13:13; Amos 9:1; Nah. 1:5). It becomes the symbol of God’s anger and wrath (Ps. 18:7). God brought earthquakes upon the people to destroy evil in the world and to punish those who had sinned against him (Num. 16:31–33; Isa. 29:6; Ezek. 38:19). Earthquake activity possibly explains the background to the story of Sodom and Gomorrah (Gen. 19:24).

Third, earthquakes are said to precede the end of time (Matt. 24:7; Mark 13:8; Luke 21:11). In the apocalyptic book of Revelation, earthquakes are regular occurrences (Rev. 6:12; 11:13, 19; 16:18).

Hermeneutics is the science and practice of interpretation. It can refer more generally to the philosophy of human understanding, or more specifically to the tools and methods used for interpreting communicative acts.

Human communication takes place in a variety of ways: through the use of nonverbal signs, through speech, and through writing. Effective communication requires some degree of shared belief, knowledge, and background between the participants. If the communicators have a significant amount of common ground, they will be able to successfully understand one another with little extra effort. Conversely, individuals with vastly different backgrounds will need to take extra steps to communicate effectively, such as defining special terms, avoiding jargon and colloquialisms, appreciating details about the other’s cultural assumptions, or learning a foreign language.

The Bible is not exempt from this process of communication. The Scriptures are meant to be read, understood, and put into practice (Luke 8:4–15; James 1:18), a task that requires effort and study on the part of its readers (Acts 17:11; 2 Tim. 2:15). Everyone who reads the Bible is involved in this interpretative process, though readers will vary in their hermeneutical self-consciousness and skill. Thus, although readers are able to understand and appropriate much of the Bible without any special training in hermeneutical principles, such training is appropriate and helpful, both in attaining self-consciousness in interpretation and in acquiring new skills and insights in the effort to become a better reader.

The Development of Hermeneutics

The church has benefited from a long history of thinking about the nature and purpose of interpreting its Scriptures, and that reflection has resulted in a wide variety of hermeneutical theories and practices. How does one determine the meaning of a text? Is meaning the truth embedded within the passage? Or is it the original author’s intention in writing? Or does the text act independently of its author and history, either because it stands on its own terms or because it only “means” anything in interaction with readers? The answers to these questions will determine how readers approach a text, the questions they expect that text to answer, and the tools they use in interpretation.

From the early church to the Enlightenment. The early church emphasized the ability of the biblical text to convey heavenly truth, whether that truth was conceived as doctrinal teaching or absolute ethical rules. While the “literal meaning” of many texts could often supply simple truths and maxims, such a reading was at other times inadequate and could appear incompatible with what were considered basic and fundamental beliefs. Various allegorical techniques were therefore employed to explain such problematic texts. Interpreters often viewed the literal and historical features of the text as a starting point in the search for fuller meaning, as symbolic pointers to moral principles, absolute truths, or eternal realities. These practices were systematized throughout the Middle Ages and resulted in an extensive development of tradition. Church tradition, in turn, provided a degree of protection from the potential for arbitrariness in allegorical techniques, insisting that interpretation must be guided by the “rule of faith,” the traditional teaching and faith of the church.

Beginning in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, scholarship moved to distance itself from such tradition. The Protestant Reformers, dissatisfied with the rule of church tradition, sought to displace its authority with the direct rule of Scripture. They therefore returned to the original biblical text, engaging in critical study of the text itself and translating the Bible into the vernacular to make it more widely accessible. In the centuries that followed, Enlightenment scholars went a step further in their rejection of the church as the sole repository of knowledge. Instead, they asserted, knowledge was acquired through scientific inquiry and critical study. Such inquiry could be applied to any field: the forces of nature, human anatomy, or the interpretation of texts. The meaning of a text was not some abstract truth or heavenly principle; rather, meaning was determined by the human author’s original intention in writing and was therefore a historical matter. The intention of an author could be better exposed and understood through a more complete study of both the language in which a text was written and the historical circumstances that surrounded it. Many of these same emphases had been championed by the Protestant Reformers; yet the Enlightenment thinkers differed on one key point: the Reformers never questioned that the text was the word of God.

From the Enlightenment to the present. This favorable attitude toward historical research dwindled over the centuries. In its place authors emphasized the primacy of the text as text, apart from any connection to its origin and history. Literature, it is argued, ultimately operates independently from its author’s intention. All that matters is the text, and it is the reader’s job to understand the text on its own terms, apart from the contingencies surrounding its creation. To that end, interpreters should pay careful attention to the text’s literary features, including its plot structure, characterization, themes, and use of imagery. An interesting example of this hermeneutical dynamic is found in John 19:22, where Pilate asserts, “What I have written, I have written.” Pilate’s words quickly take on significance far beyond their author’s intention, primarily because they are juxtaposed with other themes in John, such as testimony and the kingship of Christ.

More recent approaches have emphasized the role of the reader in the construction of meaning. Interpretation, it is argued, is determined by the interaction between reader and text; readers bring their own presuppositions to the task of interpretation, and such assumptions determine meaning. The author and the historical context of the text will exert some influence, but the primary determinant of meaning is the present reader in his or her present environment. This is not to say that the text “means” whatever a reader wants it to mean; rather, it makes meaning contingent upon the contemporary environment and not subject to anything external to individual readers. On the one hand, readers must“actualize” the text by applying and appropriating it within an environment alien to the original. On the other, readers have the right, and in some cases the responsibility, of undermining the text, particularly if that text assists in the oppression of others.

Elements of an Effective Hermeneutic

An effective hermeneutic requires keeping each of these elements in constant balance with one another. God’s word is truthful and fully trustworthy, yet it is given to his people through individual human authors, authors who wrote in a particular context to a particular audience at a particular time. Understanding the Bible therefore requires knowledge of the purposes of these authors in their specific historical contexts. Nevertheless, our primary access to authorial intention is through the biblical text itself. Finally, understanding always requires personal interaction with, and application of, the text of Scripture to each person’s own life and circumstances. Thus, hermeneutics involves the simultaneous interaction of a variety of perspectives—truth, author, text, and reader—each of which cannot function properly without the others. What follows here is an outline of the most important hermeneutical tools required for such a weighty endeavor.

Linguistics

An appreciation of the nature, structure, and function of language is fundamental to any interpretative endeavor. Obviously, this applies first of all to the specific languages in which the books of the Bible were originally composed. Each language has its own unique vocabulary, grammar, and syntax, and structures available to a writer in one language often are absent in another. Thus, while it is often necessary and acceptable to rely on translations (Neh. 7:73–8:12), readers should be aware that translation itself involves a degree of unavoidable interpretation.

A more general analysis of language is also useful. Understanding the typical patterns by which authors will string sentences together is necessary for following a writing’s train of thought. This tool, called “discourse analysis,” operates above the sentence level, attempting to understand and explain how sentences function in conjunction with one another in order to produce meaningful paragraphs, and how those paragraphs in turn operate within the overarching purpose of the discourse. These patterns of discourse can vary on the basis of book, author, language, culture, and literary genre, but there are also features of effective discourse common to all communication. Thus, while the principles and rules of communication are often intuitively grasped, understanding language, both generally and specifically, is foundational to the task of interpretation.

Literature and Literary Theory

The biblical writers are concerned not only with the informational content of their writing, but also with the manner in which that content is communicated. The words, patterns of speech, style, and imagery of any text provide significant insight into its purpose and message, apart from that text’s specific propositional content. The diversity of language used in the Gospels provides an example of this. Each of the four Gospel authors has a slightly different concern in his writing. John’s purpose, “that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31), explains his frequent use of courtroom language, such as “testimony” and “witness” (e.g., John 21:24). Mark, by contrast, sweeps the reader along a fast-paced and intensely personal exposition of Jesus’ life and death through the terseness and immediacy of his narration. Attention to these literary details allows the reader to more fully participate in the world of the text.

Such decisions will often depend upon a thorough analysis of genre. A reader naturally interprets historical narrative differently from poetry and didactic material. Furthermore, the conventions of different genres change over time. The book of Acts, for example, despite its essentially historical character, does not appear concerned with recording an exact dictation of the many speeches it reports, despite modern expectations that historical writing should be as precise as possible. The classification of ancient genres and the description of their respective conventions therefore require a good deal of analysis and sensitivity, but often such insights are provided by a careful and open reading of the text.

History

As the product of a particular author at a particular time, each book of the Bible is situated within its own unique historical context. Paul, for example, while perhaps conscious of the importance of his letters for posterity, wrote to specific churches or individuals with a singular purpose. This particularity of author, audience, and circumstance can often cause interpretative problems. Thus, while background studies are not always necessary to get the general idea of the author’s message, they can be invaluable in protecting readers from anachronism and enabling them to better appreciate the author’s purpose and perspective.

Historical study is assisted by specialized disciplines. Archaeology, for example, focuses on the beliefs, habits, practices, and history of ancient cultures, harnessing a wealth of evidence to that end. Similarly, anthropology and other social sciences are able to explore facets of modern cultures in order to better assess cross-cultural presuppositions and behaviors, many of which provide insight into ancient civilizations that shared similar attitudes. These methods provide the reader with the information necessary to understand a text in terms consistent with its cultural backdrop, highlighting both the similarities and the differences between the Bible and its environment. Recent discoveries of ancient Hittite treaties, for example, shed light on the “cutting ceremony” recorded in Gen. 15. These treaties detail similar ceremonies in which the vassal of a king would walk between hewed animal carcasses as a symbol of allegiance; if disobedience occurred, the vassal would share the fate of the animals. A similar ceremony occurs in Genesis, but with an interesting twist at the end: God, not Abram, passes through the pieces (15:17).

Humility and the Attitude of the Reader

Careful attention in interpretation requires a great deal of humility. It is difficult to overstate the importance of the attitude of the reader for an effective hermeneutic. Being a good reader requires willingness to share and participate in the world of the author and the text, a willingness that postpones judgment and expects personal change. This, in turn, requires a spirit of self-criticism, a commitment to defer one’s own presuppositions in favor of those of the text. Although readers are never able to fully distance themselves from their cultural situation and assumptions, the study of hermeneutics, among other things, can provide tools and skills for self-criticism and self-awareness, skills that enable the reader to better understand, appreciate, and appropriate the meaning of a text. Even a peripheral understanding of the complexities of interpretation can help readers develop an attitude of humility, imagination, and expectation as they approach the Scriptures.

Such humility is a prerequisite for application. The depth of meaning embedded in any text, and especially within the Bible, provides the humble reader with a rich and powerful tool for personal growth. Having better understood the world of the text on its own terms, readers are able to “project” that world onto themselves and their environment, to appropriate its meaning in a new and possibly foreign context. Thus, Jesus promises that those who hear, understand, and put his word into practice will yield a crop “some thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times what was sown” (Mark 4:20).

Unique Features of Biblical Interpretation

Certain unique features of the biblical text can create special opportunities and challenges for the Christian interpreter. These challenges are at work in the Bible’s own interpretation of itself. The Bible was written by many different authors over the course of a long period of history; it is therefore not surprising to find later authors reflecting on earlier periods. This innerbiblical interpretation offers the Christian insights into the unique nature of biblical hermeneutics and therefore provides a foundational model in approaching the Bible as the word of God.

The common and preeminent assumption that grounds innerbiblical interpretation is the commitment to ultimate divine authorship. Thus, the writer of Hebrews, though affirming the diversity of human authorship in the Bible (1:1), regularly introduces OT quotations with statements such as “God says” (1:5), “he spoke through David” (4:7), and “the Holy Spirit says” (3:7). Other writers tend to prefer the formula “it is written,” but each of these reflects a common presupposition that the Scriptures are ultimately delivered by God (2 Pet. 1:21).

Divine authorship means, at the very least, that there is a depth of meaning and purpose to the text, a depth often hidden even from the human author (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Psalm 2, for example, probably originally served as a coronation hymn used to celebrate the appointment of a new king in Israel. Yet the NT understands this psalm as a prophecy fulfilled in the resurrection of Jesus Christ (Acts 13:33; Heb. 5:5). The intention of the original speaker can even be at odds with God’s intention, such as when Caiaphas claims, “It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish” (John 11:50; cf. Acts 5:35–39). In this case, the irony of Caiaphas’s statement creates a powerful testimony, contrary to his intent, and is used by John to promote confidence in Jesus.

Furthermore, because the Scriptures are from God, they have a consistent and central focus. The NT unhesitatingly views all of Scripture, in all its diversity, as focused, by virtue of divine inspiration, on the person and work of Jesus Christ. This is seen in, for example, Luke 24:13–35, where the resurrected Jesus, “beginning with Moses and all the Prophets,” explains to his disciples “what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself” (cf. John 5:39; 12:41). This central focus on Christ requires the Christian interpreter to understand any individual verse in light of its context within the canon, to operate with the same assumption as the NT apostles, that all the Scriptures are concerned with testifying to Jesus the Christ.

Additionally, Paul views both Testaments as the special possession and once-for-all foundation of God’s church (Eph. 2:19–20; cf. Acts 2:42). The church, from a NT perspective, is the primary audience of the entirety of Scripture (1 Pet. 1:12) and is therefore uniquely entrusted with understanding and proclaiming its message (Matt. 28:18–20). While the Scriptures themselves are the only infallible guide for interpretation, believers should not forsake the teaching and tradition of the church (2 Thess. 2:15).

Finally, full understanding of the Bible requires the work of the Holy Spirit in conjunction with the faith of the reader. Belief and understanding go together (John 10:38), and both are the result of the unique work of the Holy Spirit (16:13). The proof that such understanding has taken place is the godly life of the believer (Rom. 2:13; James 1:22–25). The reverse is also true: disobedience works against understanding the riches of God’s Word (James 1:21). Such considerations underline the importance of the hermeneutical task. The tools and principles of hermeneutics are valuable only insofar as they enable the reader to better understand and appropriate the biblical message, to hear the word of God and respond appropriately.

In systematic theology, “foreknowledge” usually refers to the doctrine that God knows all things, events, and persons before they exist or occur and that this knowledge has been his from all eternity. No single Hebrew term in the OT corresponds to the English term; the concept is expressed rather on the phrase or sentence level. In the NT, the Greek verb proginōskō and noun prognōsis are translated “foreknow” and “foreknowledge,” respectively. Recently in evangelical circles there has been intense debate as to whether foreknowledge and omniscience are in fact taught in the biblical texts.

Old Testament

In the OT narratives, especially in the Pentateuch, there are numerous instances that indicate some limitations to God’s knowledge in general and his foreknowledge in particular. God appears to be somewhat surprised by how wicked humanity has become before he decides to send the flood (Gen. 6:5). God comes down and discovers that the inhabitants of Babel have started to build a tower and considers how to stop the activity (11:5–7). God comes down to ascertain whether the outcry that has come to his ears about the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah is actually as bad as the reports would indicate (18:20–21). God tests Abraham by commanding him to offer Isaac as a sacrifice, and when Abraham begins to do so, he declares that now he knows that Abraham really fears him (22:1–18).

Often, narratives such as these are regarded by theologians as cases of anthropomorphism, statements made about God that speak of him as if he had human characteristics—in this case, limited knowledge. And certainly there are many other narratives in the Pentateuch that appear to give the opposite picture. God asks Cain where his brother Abel is, though he apparently already knows the answer (Gen. 4:9–10). God relates to Abraham the course that Israelite history will take for the next several hundred years (15:13–16). God seems to be in a real-time chess match with Pharaoh, but in actuality God knows all the moves that both he and Pharaoh will make before the game ever begins (Exod. 3:19–22; 4:21–23; 7:1–5).

Given this data, perhaps the better explanation for what is happening in these texts is not that the biblical narrator is employing anthropomorphism but rather that God is accommodating himself both to the characters in the narrative and to the narrator of the stories. That is, at this stage of revelatory history God is not yet revealing himself as fully omniscient and prescient of the future in its entirety. In the conceptual world of the ancient Near East, deities were regularly portrayed as being interactive—deliberating, investigating, discovering, making decisions, and so forth. God therefore may well have accommodated himself to the larger milieu in revealing himself to the patriarchs and earliest biblical narrators.

Whatever the case may be, later biblical revelation certainly seems to present God as fully omniscient and prescient. “Death and Destruction lie open before the Lord—how much more do human hearts!” (Prov. 15:11). Before words reach our tongues, God knows them completely (Ps. 139:4). No one has ever had to keep God informed or provide him with counsel (Isa. 40:13–14). There are no limits to his understanding (Ps. 147:5). The God of Israel challenges all idols and all other gods to a foreknowledge contest: if they are able, let them tell what is going to happen, as Yahweh does (Isa. 42:9; 44:6–8; 48:3–8). God alone makes the end known from the beginning (Isa. 46:10), and he has been doing so from ancient times (Acts 15:17–18). God knew Jeremiah long before he was ever a fetus (Jer. 1:5). Our prayers do not make God finally aware of our situation; he already knows what our needs are (Matt. 6:8). Indeed, God answers our prayers before they are even prayed (Isa. 65:24). “Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare” before his eyes (Heb. 4:13).

New Testament

One especially important exegetical question for the NT involves the precise meaning of the aforementioned Greek words, proginōskō (“foreknow”) and prognōsis (“foreknowledge”). The question concerns whether these words, in their contexts, are merely cognitive terms, indicating simply that God knows things before they happen, or whether the terms are volitional terms and/or affective terms. That is, do they indicate foreordaining and/or foreloving? Are they terms that have basically the same meaning as “election” and “predestination”?

Giving credence to this position is the fact that in some of the passages where these words occur there are other words that definitely refer to God willing things to happen. In Acts 2:23, Peter declares that Jesus was handed over to his crucifiers by “God’s deliberate plan and foreknowledge.” The verse can hardly mean that God decided to do this because he already knew it was going to happen. Rather, the terms “deliberate plan” and “foreknowledge” act together to convey the single idea of God’s complete control, planning, and sovereignty in the death of Jesus. Likewise, in 1 Pet. 1:20 the word does not mean that the Son was simply “foreknown” before the foundation of the world, but rather that he was “chosen” (NIV), “destined” (NRSV), “foreordained” (KJV).

In Rom. 11:2, Paul states that God has not rejected “his people, whom he foreknew.” Again, it is hard to read this as being only cognitive. Rather, the use of the term appears to imply some kind of “affective” foreknowing, a “setting his love upon” (cf. Deut. 7:7–8), a choosing. It is important to note that the text says God foreknew not things but people. On the one hand, God foreknew all people who would ever exist, but in this passage the foreknowing refers to a particular people. And the foreknowing most likely takes its sense from the use of the word “know” in the OT, which on numerous occasions refers to the relationship of acknowledgment and love between God and his people.

In the same way, in Rom. 8:29 “those God foreknew he also predestined,” “foreknew” again appears to be a volitional, affective term—that is, “those whom God set his love upon.” That it means that God knew how these people would respond to the gospel and then chose them seems to be excluded by passages such as Rom. 9:11–12, where God’s purposes in election are not determined by people’s actions. Finally, in 1 Pet. 1:1–2 the “elect” to whom Peter is writing are elect according to “foreknowledge of God”; not that God foreknew things about them, but that God foreknew them. This understanding of the terms in context seems preferable.

An inhabitant of central Asia Minor (modern Turkey). Paul visited the Galatians (Acts 18:23) and wrote to them (Gal. 1:2). The Galatians were among several groups addressed in 1 Pet. 1:1.

Inheritance is an important concept that the Bible uses in several ways.

Family. In the ancient world every culture had customs for the passing of wealth and possessions from one generation to the next. In ancient Israel special provisions were made for inheriting land upon the death of the father. The firstborn son received a double portion; the rest was divided equally among the remaining sons. If a man lacked sons, priority went to the following in order: daughters, brothers, father’s brothers, next of kin (Num. 27:1–11). The OT provides guidance for additional circumstances (Gen. 38:8–9; Num. 36:6; Lev. 25:23–24; Deut. 21:15–17; 25:5–10; Ruth 2:20; 3:9–13; 4:1–12), with an overriding concern for the stability of the family and the retention of the land within a tribe. Under Roman law during the NT period, an heir had legal standing even while the father was still alive; his status was based on birth or adoption rather than the father’s death.

Old Testament. Even more prominent than family inheritance is the assertion that God gave the land of Canaan to Abraham and his descendants as an inheritance (Gen. 12:7; 15:18–21; 17:8; Num. 34:1–29; Deut. 12:10). This inheritance is God’s gracious gift, not something that Israel earned by its righteousness (Deut. 9:4–7). Descriptions of the land (“flowing with milk and honey”) and its fertility portray this gift as a new Eden, where God will dwell with his people (Exod. 3:8, 17; Lev. 20:24; Num. 16:13–14; Deut. 11:9–12). In some texts the language of inheritance moves beyond the land of Canaan to an international scope. In Ps. 2:8 the anointed king recounts God saying to him, “Ask me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession.” This expansion of inheritance from the land of Canaan to the ends of the earth prepares the way for a similar expansion in the NT (see Rom. 4:13).

God’s relationship with Israel is also described in terms of inheritance. On the one hand, Israel is described as God’s inheritance (Deut. 32:9; 1 Sam. 10:1; 1 Kings 8:51–53); on the other hand, God is Israel’s inheritance (Pss. 16:5; 73:26; Jer. 10:16; 51:19). This mutuality expresses the intimacy of God’s relationship with Israel.

New Testament. Inheritance language is taken up in the NT and expanded in a variety of ways. First and foremost, Jesus Christ is the “heir of all things,” the Son to whom the Father has given all authority in heaven and on earth (Matt. 28:18–20; Heb. 1:2–5). Through their union with Christ, believers share in Christ’s inheritance (Rom. 8:17), having been qualified by the Father to share in that inheritance (Col. 1:12). What believers inherit is described in various ways: the earth (Matt. 5:5), eternal life (Luke 10:25), the kingdom (1 Cor. 6:9–10; James 2:5), salvation (Heb. 1:14), blessing (Heb. 12:17; 1 Pet. 3:9). This inheritance was enacted by the death of Christ and sealed by his blood (Heb. 9:15–28). Believers experience the benefits of this inheritance through the Spirit now (Eph. 1:14, 18), but its fullness is reserved in heaven and awaits the consummation (1 Pet. 1:4–6).

The connection between the believer’s inheritance and the Spirit is especially prominent in Paul. In Gal. 4:1–7 Paul uses a combination of exodus and legal imagery to explain the gospel. Before Christ came, God’s people were heirs under the care of guardians and trustees. But once Christ came and redeemed them from under the law, they received their full inheritance as adopted sons and daughters. Central to that inheritance is the gift of the Spirit, who cries out, “Abba, Father.” It is this gift of the Spirit that definitively marks believers as sons and daughters rather than slaves. Because believers possess the Spirit as an inheritance in fulfillment of the promise to Abraham (Gal. 3:14; cf. Isa. 44:3–5), they have moved from bondage under the law to freedom in Christ (Gal. 5:1).

Hermeneutics is the science and practice of interpretation. It can refer more generally to the philosophy of human understanding, or more specifically to the tools and methods used for interpreting communicative acts.

Human communication takes place in a variety of ways: through the use of nonverbal signs, through speech, and through writing. Effective communication requires some degree of shared belief, knowledge, and background between the participants. If the communicators have a significant amount of common ground, they will be able to successfully understand one another with little extra effort. Conversely, individuals with vastly different backgrounds will need to take extra steps to communicate effectively, such as defining special terms, avoiding jargon and colloquialisms, appreciating details about the other’s cultural assumptions, or learning a foreign language.

The Bible is not exempt from this process of communication. The Scriptures are meant to be read, understood, and put into practice (Luke 8:4–15; James 1:18), a task that requires effort and study on the part of its readers (Acts 17:11; 2 Tim. 2:15). Everyone who reads the Bible is involved in this interpretative process, though readers will vary in their hermeneutical self-consciousness and skill. Thus, although readers are able to understand and appropriate much of the Bible without any special training in hermeneutical principles, such training is appropriate and helpful, both in attaining self-consciousness in interpretation and in acquiring new skills and insights in the effort to become a better reader.

The Development of Hermeneutics

The church has benefited from a long history of thinking about the nature and purpose of interpreting its Scriptures, and that reflection has resulted in a wide variety of hermeneutical theories and practices. How does one determine the meaning of a text? Is meaning the truth embedded within the passage? Or is it the original author’s intention in writing? Or does the text act independently of its author and history, either because it stands on its own terms or because it only “means” anything in interaction with readers? The answers to these questions will determine how readers approach a text, the questions they expect that text to answer, and the tools they use in interpretation.

From the early church to the Enlightenment. The early church emphasized the ability of the biblical text to convey heavenly truth, whether that truth was conceived as doctrinal teaching or absolute ethical rules. While the “literal meaning” of many texts could often supply simple truths and maxims, such a reading was at other times inadequate and could appear incompatible with what were considered basic and fundamental beliefs. Various allegorical techniques were therefore employed to explain such problematic texts. Interpreters often viewed the literal and historical features of the text as a starting point in the search for fuller meaning, as symbolic pointers to moral principles, absolute truths, or eternal realities. These practices were systematized throughout the Middle Ages and resulted in an extensive development of tradition. Church tradition, in turn, provided a degree of protection from the potential for arbitrariness in allegorical techniques, insisting that interpretation must be guided by the “rule of faith,” the traditional teaching and faith of the church.

Beginning in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, scholarship moved to distance itself from such tradition. The Protestant Reformers, dissatisfied with the rule of church tradition, sought to displace its authority with the direct rule of Scripture. They therefore returned to the original biblical text, engaging in critical study of the text itself and translating the Bible into the vernacular to make it more widely accessible. In the centuries that followed, Enlightenment scholars went a step further in their rejection of the church as the sole repository of knowledge. Instead, they asserted, knowledge was acquired through scientific inquiry and critical study. Such inquiry could be applied to any field: the forces of nature, human anatomy, or the interpretation of texts. The meaning of a text was not some abstract truth or heavenly principle; rather, meaning was determined by the human author’s original intention in writing and was therefore a historical matter. The intention of an author could be better exposed and understood through a more complete study of both the language in which a text was written and the historical circumstances that surrounded it. Many of these same emphases had been championed by the Protestant Reformers; yet the Enlightenment thinkers differed on one key point: the Reformers never questioned that the text was the word of God.

From the Enlightenment to the present. This favorable attitude toward historical research dwindled over the centuries. In its place authors emphasized the primacy of the text as text, apart from any connection to its origin and history. Literature, it is argued, ultimately operates independently from its author’s intention. All that matters is the text, and it is the reader’s job to understand the text on its own terms, apart from the contingencies surrounding its creation. To that end, interpreters should pay careful attention to the text’s literary features, including its plot structure, characterization, themes, and use of imagery. An interesting example of this hermeneutical dynamic is found in John 19:22, where Pilate asserts, “What I have written, I have written.” Pilate’s words quickly take on significance far beyond their author’s intention, primarily because they are juxtaposed with other themes in John, such as testimony and the kingship of Christ.

More recent approaches have emphasized the role of the reader in the construction of meaning. Interpretation, it is argued, is determined by the interaction between reader and text; readers bring their own presuppositions to the task of interpretation, and such assumptions determine meaning. The author and the historical context of the text will exert some influence, but the primary determinant of meaning is the present reader in his or her present environment. This is not to say that the text “means” whatever a reader wants it to mean; rather, it makes meaning contingent upon the contemporary environment and not subject to anything external to individual readers. On the one hand, readers must“actualize” the text by applying and appropriating it within an environment alien to the original. On the other, readers have the right, and in some cases the responsibility, of undermining the text, particularly if that text assists in the oppression of others.

Elements of an Effective Hermeneutic

An effective hermeneutic requires keeping each of these elements in constant balance with one another. God’s word is truthful and fully trustworthy, yet it is given to his people through individual human authors, authors who wrote in a particular context to a particular audience at a particular time. Understanding the Bible therefore requires knowledge of the purposes of these authors in their specific historical contexts. Nevertheless, our primary access to authorial intention is through the biblical text itself. Finally, understanding always requires personal interaction with, and application of, the text of Scripture to each person’s own life and circumstances. Thus, hermeneutics involves the simultaneous interaction of a variety of perspectives—truth, author, text, and reader—each of which cannot function properly without the others. What follows here is an outline of the most important hermeneutical tools required for such a weighty endeavor.

Linguistics

An appreciation of the nature, structure, and function of language is fundamental to any interpretative endeavor. Obviously, this applies first of all to the specific languages in which the books of the Bible were originally composed. Each language has its own unique vocabulary, grammar, and syntax, and structures available to a writer in one language often are absent in another. Thus, while it is often necessary and acceptable to rely on translations (Neh. 7:73–8:12), readers should be aware that translation itself involves a degree of unavoidable interpretation.

A more general analysis of language is also useful. Understanding the typical patterns by which authors will string sentences together is necessary for following a writing’s train of thought. This tool, called “discourse analysis,” operates above the sentence level, attempting to understand and explain how sentences function in conjunction with one another in order to produce meaningful paragraphs, and how those paragraphs in turn operate within the overarching purpose of the discourse. These patterns of discourse can vary on the basis of book, author, language, culture, and literary genre, but there are also features of effective discourse common to all communication. Thus, while the principles and rules of communication are often intuitively grasped, understanding language, both generally and specifically, is foundational to the task of interpretation.

Literature and Literary Theory

The biblical writers are concerned not only with the informational content of their writing, but also with the manner in which that content is communicated. The words, patterns of speech, style, and imagery of any text provide significant insight into its purpose and message, apart from that text’s specific propositional content. The diversity of language used in the Gospels provides an example of this. Each of the four Gospel authors has a slightly different concern in his writing. John’s purpose, “that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31), explains his frequent use of courtroom language, such as “testimony” and “witness” (e.g., John 21:24). Mark, by contrast, sweeps the reader along a fast-paced and intensely personal exposition of Jesus’ life and death through the terseness and immediacy of his narration. Attention to these literary details allows the reader to more fully participate in the world of the text.

Such decisions will often depend upon a thorough analysis of genre. A reader naturally interprets historical narrative differently from poetry and didactic material. Furthermore, the conventions of different genres change over time. The book of Acts, for example, despite its essentially historical character, does not appear concerned with recording an exact dictation of the many speeches it reports, despite modern expectations that historical writing should be as precise as possible. The classification of ancient genres and the description of their respective conventions therefore require a good deal of analysis and sensitivity, but often such insights are provided by a careful and open reading of the text.

History

As the product of a particular author at a particular time, each book of the Bible is situated within its own unique historical context. Paul, for example, while perhaps conscious of the importance of his letters for posterity, wrote to specific churches or individuals with a singular purpose. This particularity of author, audience, and circumstance can often cause interpretative problems. Thus, while background studies are not always necessary to get the general idea of the author’s message, they can be invaluable in protecting readers from anachronism and enabling them to better appreciate the author’s purpose and perspective.

Historical study is assisted by specialized disciplines. Archaeology, for example, focuses on the beliefs, habits, practices, and history of ancient cultures, harnessing a wealth of evidence to that end. Similarly, anthropology and other social sciences are able to explore facets of modern cultures in order to better assess cross-cultural presuppositions and behaviors, many of which provide insight into ancient civilizations that shared similar attitudes. These methods provide the reader with the information necessary to understand a text in terms consistent with its cultural backdrop, highlighting both the similarities and the differences between the Bible and its environment. Recent discoveries of ancient Hittite treaties, for example, shed light on the “cutting ceremony” recorded in Gen. 15. These treaties detail similar ceremonies in which the vassal of a king would walk between hewed animal carcasses as a symbol of allegiance; if disobedience occurred, the vassal would share the fate of the animals. A similar ceremony occurs in Genesis, but with an interesting twist at the end: God, not Abram, passes through the pieces (15:17).

Humility and the Attitude of the Reader

Careful attention in interpretation requires a great deal of humility. It is difficult to overstate the importance of the attitude of the reader for an effective hermeneutic. Being a good reader requires willingness to share and participate in the world of the author and the text, a willingness that postpones judgment and expects personal change. This, in turn, requires a spirit of self-criticism, a commitment to defer one’s own presuppositions in favor of those of the text. Although readers are never able to fully distance themselves from their cultural situation and assumptions, the study of hermeneutics, among other things, can provide tools and skills for self-criticism and self-awareness, skills that enable the reader to better understand, appreciate, and appropriate the meaning of a text. Even a peripheral understanding of the complexities of interpretation can help readers develop an attitude of humility, imagination, and expectation as they approach the Scriptures.

Such humility is a prerequisite for application. The depth of meaning embedded in any text, and especially within the Bible, provides the humble reader with a rich and powerful tool for personal growth. Having better understood the world of the text on its own terms, readers are able to “project” that world onto themselves and their environment, to appropriate its meaning in a new and possibly foreign context. Thus, Jesus promises that those who hear, understand, and put his word into practice will yield a crop “some thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times what was sown” (Mark 4:20).

Unique Features of Biblical Interpretation

Certain unique features of the biblical text can create special opportunities and challenges for the Christian interpreter. These challenges are at work in the Bible’s own interpretation of itself. The Bible was written by many different authors over the course of a long period of history; it is therefore not surprising to find later authors reflecting on earlier periods. This innerbiblical interpretation offers the Christian insights into the unique nature of biblical hermeneutics and therefore provides a foundational model in approaching the Bible as the word of God.

The common and preeminent assumption that grounds innerbiblical interpretation is the commitment to ultimate divine authorship. Thus, the writer of Hebrews, though affirming the diversity of human authorship in the Bible (1:1), regularly introduces OT quotations with statements such as “God says” (1:5), “he spoke through David” (4:7), and “the Holy Spirit says” (3:7). Other writers tend to prefer the formula “it is written,” but each of these reflects a common presupposition that the Scriptures are ultimately delivered by God (2 Pet. 1:21).

Divine authorship means, at the very least, that there is a depth of meaning and purpose to the text, a depth often hidden even from the human author (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Psalm 2, for example, probably originally served as a coronation hymn used to celebrate the appointment of a new king in Israel. Yet the NT understands this psalm as a prophecy fulfilled in the resurrection of Jesus Christ (Acts 13:33; Heb. 5:5). The intention of the original speaker can even be at odds with God’s intention, such as when Caiaphas claims, “It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish” (John 11:50; cf. Acts 5:35–39). In this case, the irony of Caiaphas’s statement creates a powerful testimony, contrary to his intent, and is used by John to promote confidence in Jesus.

Furthermore, because the Scriptures are from God, they have a consistent and central focus. The NT unhesitatingly views all of Scripture, in all its diversity, as focused, by virtue of divine inspiration, on the person and work of Jesus Christ. This is seen in, for example, Luke 24:13–35, where the resurrected Jesus, “beginning with Moses and all the Prophets,” explains to his disciples “what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself” (cf. John 5:39; 12:41). This central focus on Christ requires the Christian interpreter to understand any individual verse in light of its context within the canon, to operate with the same assumption as the NT apostles, that all the Scriptures are concerned with testifying to Jesus the Christ.

Additionally, Paul views both Testaments as the special possession and once-for-all foundation of God’s church (Eph. 2:19–20; cf. Acts 2:42). The church, from a NT perspective, is the primary audience of the entirety of Scripture (1 Pet. 1:12) and is therefore uniquely entrusted with understanding and proclaiming its message (Matt. 28:18–20). While the Scriptures themselves are the only infallible guide for interpretation, believers should not forsake the teaching and tradition of the church (2 Thess. 2:15).

Finally, full understanding of the Bible requires the work of the Holy Spirit in conjunction with the faith of the reader. Belief and understanding go together (John 10:38), and both are the result of the unique work of the Holy Spirit (16:13). The proof that such understanding has taken place is the godly life of the believer (Rom. 2:13; James 1:22–25). The reverse is also true: disobedience works against understanding the riches of God’s Word (James 1:21). Such considerations underline the importance of the hermeneutical task. The tools and principles of hermeneutics are valuable only insofar as they enable the reader to better understand and appropriate the biblical message, to hear the word of God and respond appropriately.

Hermeneutics is the science and practice of interpretation. It can refer more generally to the philosophy of human understanding, or more specifically to the tools and methods used for interpreting communicative acts.

Human communication takes place in a variety of ways: through the use of nonverbal signs, through speech, and through writing. Effective communication requires some degree of shared belief, knowledge, and background between the participants. If the communicators have a significant amount of common ground, they will be able to successfully understand one another with little extra effort. Conversely, individuals with vastly different backgrounds will need to take extra steps to communicate effectively, such as defining special terms, avoiding jargon and colloquialisms, appreciating details about the other’s cultural assumptions, or learning a foreign language.

The Bible is not exempt from this process of communication. The Scriptures are meant to be read, understood, and put into practice (Luke 8:4–15; James 1:18), a task that requires effort and study on the part of its readers (Acts 17:11; 2 Tim. 2:15). Everyone who reads the Bible is involved in this interpretative process, though readers will vary in their hermeneutical self-consciousness and skill. Thus, although readers are able to understand and appropriate much of the Bible without any special training in hermeneutical principles, such training is appropriate and helpful, both in attaining self-consciousness in interpretation and in acquiring new skills and insights in the effort to become a better reader.

The Development of Hermeneutics

The church has benefited from a long history of thinking about the nature and purpose of interpreting its Scriptures, and that reflection has resulted in a wide variety of hermeneutical theories and practices. How does one determine the meaning of a text? Is meaning the truth embedded within the passage? Or is it the original author’s intention in writing? Or does the text act independently of its author and history, either because it stands on its own terms or because it only “means” anything in interaction with readers? The answers to these questions will determine how readers approach a text, the questions they expect that text to answer, and the tools they use in interpretation.

From the early church to the Enlightenment. The early church emphasized the ability of the biblical text to convey heavenly truth, whether that truth was conceived as doctrinal teaching or absolute ethical rules. While the “literal meaning” of many texts could often supply simple truths and maxims, such a reading was at other times inadequate and could appear incompatible with what were considered basic and fundamental beliefs. Various allegorical techniques were therefore employed to explain such problematic texts. Interpreters often viewed the literal and historical features of the text as a starting point in the search for fuller meaning, as symbolic pointers to moral principles, absolute truths, or eternal realities. These practices were systematized throughout the Middle Ages and resulted in an extensive development of tradition. Church tradition, in turn, provided a degree of protection from the potential for arbitrariness in allegorical techniques, insisting that interpretation must be guided by the “rule of faith,” the traditional teaching and faith of the church.

Beginning in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, scholarship moved to distance itself from such tradition. The Protestant Reformers, dissatisfied with the rule of church tradition, sought to displace its authority with the direct rule of Scripture. They therefore returned to the original biblical text, engaging in critical study of the text itself and translating the Bible into the vernacular to make it more widely accessible. In the centuries that followed, Enlightenment scholars went a step further in their rejection of the church as the sole repository of knowledge. Instead, they asserted, knowledge was acquired through scientific inquiry and critical study. Such inquiry could be applied to any field: the forces of nature, human anatomy, or the interpretation of texts. The meaning of a text was not some abstract truth or heavenly principle; rather, meaning was determined by the human author’s original intention in writing and was therefore a historical matter. The intention of an author could be better exposed and understood through a more complete study of both the language in which a text was written and the historical circumstances that surrounded it. Many of these same emphases had been championed by the Protestant Reformers; yet the Enlightenment thinkers differed on one key point: the Reformers never questioned that the text was the word of God.

From the Enlightenment to the present. This favorable attitude toward historical research dwindled over the centuries. In its place authors emphasized the primacy of the text as text, apart from any connection to its origin and history. Literature, it is argued, ultimately operates independently from its author’s intention. All that matters is the text, and it is the reader’s job to understand the text on its own terms, apart from the contingencies surrounding its creation. To that end, interpreters should pay careful attention to the text’s literary features, including its plot structure, characterization, themes, and use of imagery. An interesting example of this hermeneutical dynamic is found in John 19:22, where Pilate asserts, “What I have written, I have written.” Pilate’s words quickly take on significance far beyond their author’s intention, primarily because they are juxtaposed with other themes in John, such as testimony and the kingship of Christ.

More recent approaches have emphasized the role of the reader in the construction of meaning. Interpretation, it is argued, is determined by the interaction between reader and text; readers bring their own presuppositions to the task of interpretation, and such assumptions determine meaning. The author and the historical context of the text will exert some influence, but the primary determinant of meaning is the present reader in his or her present environment. This is not to say that the text “means” whatever a reader wants it to mean; rather, it makes meaning contingent upon the contemporary environment and not subject to anything external to individual readers. On the one hand, readers must“actualize” the text by applying and appropriating it within an environment alien to the original. On the other, readers have the right, and in some cases the responsibility, of undermining the text, particularly if that text assists in the oppression of others.

Elements of an Effective Hermeneutic

An effective hermeneutic requires keeping each of these elements in constant balance with one another. God’s word is truthful and fully trustworthy, yet it is given to his people through individual human authors, authors who wrote in a particular context to a particular audience at a particular time. Understanding the Bible therefore requires knowledge of the purposes of these authors in their specific historical contexts. Nevertheless, our primary access to authorial intention is through the biblical text itself. Finally, understanding always requires personal interaction with, and application of, the text of Scripture to each person’s own life and circumstances. Thus, hermeneutics involves the simultaneous interaction of a variety of perspectives—truth, author, text, and reader—each of which cannot function properly without the others. What follows here is an outline of the most important hermeneutical tools required for such a weighty endeavor.

Linguistics

An appreciation of the nature, structure, and function of language is fundamental to any interpretative endeavor. Obviously, this applies first of all to the specific languages in which the books of the Bible were originally composed. Each language has its own unique vocabulary, grammar, and syntax, and structures available to a writer in one language often are absent in another. Thus, while it is often necessary and acceptable to rely on translations (Neh. 7:73–8:12), readers should be aware that translation itself involves a degree of unavoidable interpretation.

A more general analysis of language is also useful. Understanding the typical patterns by which authors will string sentences together is necessary for following a writing’s train of thought. This tool, called “discourse analysis,” operates above the sentence level, attempting to understand and explain how sentences function in conjunction with one another in order to produce meaningful paragraphs, and how those paragraphs in turn operate within the overarching purpose of the discourse. These patterns of discourse can vary on the basis of book, author, language, culture, and literary genre, but there are also features of effective discourse common to all communication. Thus, while the principles and rules of communication are often intuitively grasped, understanding language, both generally and specifically, is foundational to the task of interpretation.

Literature and Literary Theory

The biblical writers are concerned not only with the informational content of their writing, but also with the manner in which that content is communicated. The words, patterns of speech, style, and imagery of any text provide significant insight into its purpose and message, apart from that text’s specific propositional content. The diversity of language used in the Gospels provides an example of this. Each of the four Gospel authors has a slightly different concern in his writing. John’s purpose, “that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name” (John 20:31), explains his frequent use of courtroom language, such as “testimony” and “witness” (e.g., John 21:24). Mark, by contrast, sweeps the reader along a fast-paced and intensely personal exposition of Jesus’ life and death through the terseness and immediacy of his narration. Attention to these literary details allows the reader to more fully participate in the world of the text.

Such decisions will often depend upon a thorough analysis of genre. A reader naturally interprets historical narrative differently from poetry and didactic material. Furthermore, the conventions of different genres change over time. The book of Acts, for example, despite its essentially historical character, does not appear concerned with recording an exact dictation of the many speeches it reports, despite modern expectations that historical writing should be as precise as possible. The classification of ancient genres and the description of their respective conventions therefore require a good deal of analysis and sensitivity, but often such insights are provided by a careful and open reading of the text.

History

As the product of a particular author at a particular time, each book of the Bible is situated within its own unique historical context. Paul, for example, while perhaps conscious of the importance of his letters for posterity, wrote to specific churches or individuals with a singular purpose. This particularity of author, audience, and circumstance can often cause interpretative problems. Thus, while background studies are not always necessary to get the general idea of the author’s message, they can be invaluable in protecting readers from anachronism and enabling them to better appreciate the author’s purpose and perspective.

Historical study is assisted by specialized disciplines. Archaeology, for example, focuses on the beliefs, habits, practices, and history of ancient cultures, harnessing a wealth of evidence to that end. Similarly, anthropology and other social sciences are able to explore facets of modern cultures in order to better assess cross-cultural presuppositions and behaviors, many of which provide insight into ancient civilizations that shared similar attitudes. These methods provide the reader with the information necessary to understand a text in terms consistent with its cultural backdrop, highlighting both the similarities and the differences between the Bible and its environment. Recent discoveries of ancient Hittite treaties, for example, shed light on the “cutting ceremony” recorded in Gen. 15. These treaties detail similar ceremonies in which the vassal of a king would walk between hewed animal carcasses as a symbol of allegiance; if disobedience occurred, the vassal would share the fate of the animals. A similar ceremony occurs in Genesis, but with an interesting twist at the end: God, not Abram, passes through the pieces (15:17).

Humility and the Attitude of the Reader

Careful attention in interpretation requires a great deal of humility. It is difficult to overstate the importance of the attitude of the reader for an effective hermeneutic. Being a good reader requires willingness to share and participate in the world of the author and the text, a willingness that postpones judgment and expects personal change. This, in turn, requires a spirit of self-criticism, a commitment to defer one’s own presuppositions in favor of those of the text. Although readers are never able to fully distance themselves from their cultural situation and assumptions, the study of hermeneutics, among other things, can provide tools and skills for self-criticism and self-awareness, skills that enable the reader to better understand, appreciate, and appropriate the meaning of a text. Even a peripheral understanding of the complexities of interpretation can help readers develop an attitude of humility, imagination, and expectation as they approach the Scriptures.

Such humility is a prerequisite for application. The depth of meaning embedded in any text, and especially within the Bible, provides the humble reader with a rich and powerful tool for personal growth. Having better understood the world of the text on its own terms, readers are able to “project” that world onto themselves and their environment, to appropriate its meaning in a new and possibly foreign context. Thus, Jesus promises that those who hear, understand, and put his word into practice will yield a crop “some thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times what was sown” (Mark 4:20).

Unique Features of Biblical Interpretation

Certain unique features of the biblical text can create special opportunities and challenges for the Christian interpreter. These challenges are at work in the Bible’s own interpretation of itself. The Bible was written by many different authors over the course of a long period of history; it is therefore not surprising to find later authors reflecting on earlier periods. This innerbiblical interpretation offers the Christian insights into the unique nature of biblical hermeneutics and therefore provides a foundational model in approaching the Bible as the word of God.

The common and preeminent assumption that grounds innerbiblical interpretation is the commitment to ultimate divine authorship. Thus, the writer of Hebrews, though affirming the diversity of human authorship in the Bible (1:1), regularly introduces OT quotations with statements such as “God says” (1:5), “he spoke through David” (4:7), and “the Holy Spirit says” (3:7). Other writers tend to prefer the formula “it is written,” but each of these reflects a common presupposition that the Scriptures are ultimately delivered by God (2 Pet. 1:21).

Divine authorship means, at the very least, that there is a depth of meaning and purpose to the text, a depth often hidden even from the human author (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Psalm 2, for example, probably originally served as a coronation hymn used to celebrate the appointment of a new king in Israel. Yet the NT understands this psalm as a prophecy fulfilled in the resurrection of Jesus Christ (Acts 13:33; Heb. 5:5). The intention of the original speaker can even be at odds with God’s intention, such as when Caiaphas claims, “It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish” (John 11:50; cf. Acts 5:35–39). In this case, the irony of Caiaphas’s statement creates a powerful testimony, contrary to his intent, and is used by John to promote confidence in Jesus.

Furthermore, because the Scriptures are from God, they have a consistent and central focus. The NT unhesitatingly views all of Scripture, in all its diversity, as focused, by virtue of divine inspiration, on the person and work of Jesus Christ. This is seen in, for example, Luke 24:13–35, where the resurrected Jesus, “beginning with Moses and all the Prophets,” explains to his disciples “what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself” (cf. John 5:39; 12:41). This central focus on Christ requires the Christian interpreter to understand any individual verse in light of its context within the canon, to operate with the same assumption as the NT apostles, that all the Scriptures are concerned with testifying to Jesus the Christ.

Additionally, Paul views both Testaments as the special possession and once-for-all foundation of God’s church (Eph. 2:19–20; cf. Acts 2:42). The church, from a NT perspective, is the primary audience of the entirety of Scripture (1 Pet. 1:12) and is therefore uniquely entrusted with understanding and proclaiming its message (Matt. 28:18–20). While the Scriptures themselves are the only infallible guide for interpretation, believers should not forsake the teaching and tradition of the church (2 Thess. 2:15).

Finally, full understanding of the Bible requires the work of the Holy Spirit in conjunction with the faith of the reader. Belief and understanding go together (John 10:38), and both are the result of the unique work of the Holy Spirit (16:13). The proof that such understanding has taken place is the godly life of the believer (Rom. 2:13; James 1:22–25). The reverse is also true: disobedience works against understanding the riches of God’s Word (James 1:21). Such considerations underline the importance of the hermeneutical task. The tools and principles of hermeneutics are valuable only insofar as they enable the reader to better understand and appropriate the biblical message, to hear the word of God and respond appropriately.

The kingdom of God is a major theme in the Bible. While the theme is most fully developed in the NT, its origin is the OT, where the emphasis falls on God’s king-ship. God is king of Israel (Exod. 15:18; Num. 23:21; Deut. 33:5; Isa. 43:15) and of all the earth (2 Kings 19:15; Pss. 29:10; 99:1–4; Isa. 6:5; Jer. 46:18). Juxtaposed to the concept of God’s present reign as king are references to a day when God will become king over his people (Isa. 24:23; 33:22; 52:7; Zeph. 3:15; Zech. 14:9). This emphasis on God’s kingship continues throughout Judaism and takes on special significance in Jewish apocalypticism and its anticipation of the kingdom of God in the age to come, which abandoned any hope for present history. Only at the end of the age will the kingdom of God come. This idea of God’s kingdom is further developed throughout the NT.

The Synoptic Gospels

In the Synoptic Gospels the phrase “the kingdom of God” occurs over one hundred times in Mark, Luke, and Matthew (where “kingdom of heaven” is a synonym for “kingdom of God”). Three views have been defended regarding whether and to what extent the kingdom of God was present in Jesus’ ministry. In other words, how are we to interpret the phrase “kingdom of God” in the Synoptics? The three views are consistent eschatology, realized eschatology, and inaugurated eschatology.

Consistent eschatology. Albert Schweitzer, a biblical scholar from the late nineteenth century, first popularized consistent eschatology. Here, “consistent” means consistent with the apocalyptic Judaism of Jesus’ day, which interpreted the kingdom of God as something coming in the future. Judaism at the time of Christ divided history into two periods: this age of sin, when sin rules, and the age to come, when the Messiah is expected to bring the kingdom of God to earth. Schweitzer concluded that an apocalyptic understanding of the kingdom was foundational not only for Christ’s teaching, but also to understanding his life. Thus, Schweitzer maintained that Jesus believed that it was his vocation to become the coming Son of Man. Initially, Jesus revealed this messianic secret only to Peter, James, and John. Later, Peter told it to the rest of the Twelve. Judas told the secret to the high priest, who used it as the grounds for Jesus’ execution (Mark 14:61–64; cf. Dan. 7:13).

According to Schweitzer, when Jesus sent out the Twelve on a mission to proclaim the coming kingdom of God, he did not expect them to return. The Twelve were the “men of violence” (cf. Matt. 11:12) who would provoke the messianic tribulation that would herald the kingdom. Whereas some earlier scholars believed that one could only wait passively for the kingdom, Schweitzer believed that the mission of Jesus was designed to provoke its coming. When this did not happen, Jesus determined to give his own life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45) and so cause the kingdom to come.

According to Schweitzer, Jesus took matters into his own hands by precipitating his death, hoping that this would be the catalyst for God to make the wheel of history turn to its climax—the arrival of the kingdom of God. But, said Schweitzer, Jesus was wrong again, and he died in despair. So for Schweitzer, Jesus never witnessed the dawning of the age to come; it lay in the distant future, separated from this present age.

On the positive side, Schweitzer called attention to the fact that the message of Jesus is rooted in first-century apocalyptic Judaism and its concept of the kingdom of God. This connection is still foundational to a proper understanding of biblical prophecy and the Gospels today. On the negative side, Schweitzer’s selective use of evidence and rejection of the historicity of much of the Gospel tradition resulted in a skewed perspective on the present dimensions of Jesus’ eschatology.

Realized eschatology. In contrast to futurist eschatology, where the kingdom of God awaits a final consummation at the end of history, realized eschatology views the kingdom of God as already realized in the person and mission of Jesus. The futurist aspects of Jesus’ teaching are reduced to a minimum, and his apocalyptic language is viewed as symbolic of theological truths.

The person most responsible for advocating this position is British scholar C. H. Dodd. In his 1935 book Parables of the Kingdom, he focused on Jesus’ teachings that announced the arrival of the kingdom with his coming. For instance, in Luke 11:20 Jesus says, “But if I drive out demons by the finger of God, then the kingdom of God has come upon you” (cf. Luke 17:21; Matt. 13). Eschatology becomes a matter of the present experience rather than any kind of future event. The kingdom has fully come in the messianic ministry of Jesus.

Most interpreters have criticized Dodd’s realized eschatology for ignoring Jesus’ teachings that point to a future consummation of the kingdom (e.g., Matt. 24–25; Mark 13). When all of Jesus’ teachings are considered, futurist eschatology balances realized eschatology. To be sure, the kingdom arrived with Jesus, but Jesus himself taught that history still awaits a final completion. The kingdom of God is both “already” and “not yet,” which leads us to the third view of the relationship of the kingdom of God to the ministry of Jesus Christ.

Inaugurated eschatology. The third view, inaugurated eschatology, is commonly connected with the twentieth-century Swiss theologian Oscar Cullmann. Like others before him, Cullmann understood that the Jewish notion of the two ages formed an important background for understanding the message of Jesus. According to Judaism, history is divided into two periods: this age of sin and the age to come (i.e., the kingdom of God). For Jews the advent of the Messiah would effect the shift from the former to the latter. In other words, Judaism viewed the two ages as consecutive. According to Cullmann, Jesus Christ announced that the end of time, the kingdom of God, had arrived within history (see Mark 1:15 pars.; esp. Luke 4:43; 6:20; 7:28; 8:1, 10; 9:2, 11, 27, 60, 62; 10:9, 11; 11:20; 13:18, 20; 16:16; 17:20–21; 18:16–17, 24–25, 29; Acts 28:31). Yet other passages suggest that although the age to come had already dawned, it was not yet complete. It awaited the second coming for its full realization (Luke 13:28–29; 14:15; 19:11; 21:31; 22:16, 18; 23:51; Acts 1:6). Hence the adjective “inaugurated” characterizes this eschatology. Such a view is pervasive in the NT (see, e.g., Acts 2:17–21; 3:18, 24; 1 Cor. 15:24; 1 Tim. 4:1; 2 Tim. 3:1; Heb. 1:2; 1 John 2:18). So for inaugurated eschatology, the two ages are simultaneous: the age to come exists in the midst of this present age. Christians therefore live in between the two ages until the parousia (second coming of Christ).

We may break down the data in the Synoptic Gospels regarding the “already/not yet” aspects concerning the kingdom of God in this manner: Mark, probably the first Gospel written, records Jesus’ programmatic statement in 1:15: “The time has come. . . . The kingdom of God has come near.” Mark, along with Luke and Matthew, then goes on to demonstrate that Jesus’ miracles, teachings, death, and resurrection inaugurated the kingdom of God. Yet it is also clear from Matthew, Mark, and Luke that the final manifestation of the kingdom has not yet happened. We may draw on Luke as representative of all three Synoptics. Luke’s Gospel indicates that the kingdom was present for Jesus (Luke 7:28; 8:10; 10:9–11; 11:20; 16:16; 17:20–21), but it also awaited the second coming for its completion (6:20–26; 11:2; 12:49–50, 51–53; 13:24–30; 21:25–29; 22:15–18, 30). The same dual aspect of the kingdom pertains to Luke’s second volume, Acts. The kingdom was present in Jesus’ ministry and now through his disciples (Acts 1:3; 8:12; 19:8; 20:25; 28:23–31), but it will not be completed until Christ comes again (1:6; 14:22).

The Gospel of John

John’s Gospel has only three references to the kingdom of God. Nicodemus was told by Jesus that he needed to be born again to enter the kingdom of God (3:3–5). Yet Jesus’ kingdom is not worldly in nature, but spiritual (18:36). Although the Gospel of John contains both the present (“already”) aspect and the future (“not yet”) aspect, the focus is clearly on the present. This is why many scholars label the Fourth Gospel the “Gospel of Realized Eschatology.” This emphasis on the “already” can be seen in John in the following ways: (1) Eternal life, or entrance into the kingdom of God, can be a present possession (3:5–6, 36; 6:47, 51, 58; 8:51; 10:28; 11:24–26). (2) The eschatological promise of sonship is granted to the believer in Jesus now (1:12–13; 3:3–8; 4:14). (3) The general resurrection has already begun (5:25). (4) The Spirit, the gift of the end time, currently indwells believers (7:37–39; 14:15–31; 15:26–27; 16:5–16; 20:22–23). (5) Final judgment is determined by one’s present response to Jesus (3:19; 5:22–24, 27, 30–38; 9:38; 12:31–33). (6) The spirit of antichrist has already entered the world scene to oppose Christ (6:70; 13:2, 27). (7) Jesus’ death on the cross seems to absorb some elements of the messianic woes or aspects of tribulation. In other words, Jesus’ passion was where the end-time holy war was waged, and his death and resurrection began the end of the forces of evil (15:18–16:11).

On the other hand, the Gospel of John also includes some typical future (“not yet”) aspects of eschatology. For example, the future resurrection is still expected (5:26–30). Likewise, the future second coming of Christ is alluded to (14:1–4; 21:22). Admittedly, however, the “already” aspect of the kingdom of God seems to overshadow the “not yet” perspective in the Fourth Gospel.

Pauline Literature

The phrase “kingdom of God” and/or “kingdom of Christ” occurs twelve times in Paul’s writings.

Rom. 14:17 – kingdom of God (present tense)

1 Cor. 4:20 – kingdom of God (present tense)

1 Cor. 6:9-10 – kingdom of God (2x) (future tense)

1 Cor. 15:24 – kingdom of Christ/God (present/future tense)

1 Cor. 15:50 – kingdom of God (future tense)

Gal. 5:21 – kingdom of God (future tense)

Eph. 5:5 – kingdom of Christ/God (future tense)

Col. 1:13 – kingdom of the Son (present tense)

Col. 4:11 – kingdom of God (present tense)

1 Thess. 2:12 – his [God’s] kingdom (future tense)

2 Thess. 1:5 – kingdom of God (future tense)

Three observations emerge from the chart: (1) The kingdom of Christ/God is both present and future, already here and not yet complete. This is consistent with the Gospels and Acts. (2) Christ and God are, in at least two instances, interchanged, suggesting equality of status between them (cf. Eph. 5:5; Rev. 11:15; 12:10). (3) In 1 Cor. 15:24 we find the most precise description of the exact relationship between the kingdoms of Christ and God: the interim messianic kingdom begun at the resurrection of Christ will one day give way to the eternal kingdom of God. Such a temporary kingdom is attested to in apocalyptic Judaism and may underlie Rev. 20:1–6.

Christians therefore live in between the two ages, in the messianic kingdom.

Hebrews and the General Epistles

Hebrews and the General Epistles continue the theme of the “already/not yet” aspects of the kingdom.

Hebrews. The following ideas associated in Second Temple Judaism with the arrival of God’s kingdom are seen by the author of Hebrews to have been fulfilled at the first coming of Christ: (1) the appearance of the Messiah of the last days indicates the dawning of the kingdom of God (1:2; 9:9–10); (2) the great tribulation/messianic woes that were expected to occur in connection with the advent of the Messiah are now here (2:5–18; cf. 5:8–9; 7:27–28; 10:12; 12:2); (3) the outpouring of the Holy Spirit has happened (6:4–5); (4) the manifestation of the eschatological high priest at the end of history has taken place in Jesus (7:26–28), who has also established the new covenant of the last days (8:6–13). Compare the preceding statements in Hebrews with that author’s explicit mention of the presence of the kingdom of God in 12:18–28. And yet the kingdom of God is not yet fully here. The church continues to suffer the messianic woes, as is evidenced in the intermingling of Jesus’ suffering of the great tribulation with the present afflictions of the Christian (2:5–18; 3:7–4:6; 5:7–6:12; 10:19–39; 12:1–2; 13:11–16). Furthermore, the exhortations to persevere in the faith that punctuate the book of Hebrews (2:1–4; 3:7–4:13; 5:11–6:12; 10:19–39; 12:14–29) are a familiar theme in Jewish and Christian apocalyptic literature.

The General Epistles. The main message of James is that the last days are here (1:2; 5:3) and with it the messianic woes (1:2–12; 5:1–12). Therefore, believers will need to faithfully endure the great tribulation until the second coming of Christ. But there are two indications that James also teaches that the kingdom of God has dawned in the midst of the great tribulation. First, Christians experience even now the eschatological quality of joy (James 1:2–3; cf. Joel 2:21–27). Second, Christians also share in the end-time gift of wisdom (James 1:5–8).

First Peter is similar to James with regard to its inaugurated eschatology. Thus, the church suffers the messianic woes/great tribulation (1 Pet. 1:6, 11; 3:13–17; 4:12–19; 5:1–9). Nevertheless, the age to come/kingdom of God has broken into the midst of this age, as evidenced by the eschatological joy and God’s protective power that it brings (1:5–6).

Second Peter does seem to stress the “not yet” aspect of the kingdom of God. Thus, the kingdom of God still waits to be entered (1:11), is hindered by end-time apostasy (2 Pet. 2), and has been postponed (3:1–10). Yet the “already” aspect of the kingdom is not entirely absent. This is evidenced by the fact that the transfiguration of Christ on the mountain was a display of the coming power and glory of the age to come, a glory revealed to the disciples on the mountain and now communicated to all believers (1:16–19).

Jude is devoted to alerting Christians to the reality that they are in the midst of the end-time holy war (vv. 3, 20–23), as can be seen by their struggle with the false teaching of end-time apostasy (vv. 5–19). Nevertheless, because believers possess the eschatological gift of the Holy Spirit, they will prevail to fully enter the kingdom of God (v. 20).

The Letters of John attest to the overlapping of the two ages—that is, inaugurated eschatology. Thus, on the one hand, the spirit of antichrist is here (1 John 2:18; 2 John 7), along with the false teaching that it breeds (1 John 2:20–29; cf. 2–3 John); but on the other hand, the Johannine community has the end-time anointing of the Holy Spirit, which preserves believers from evil and deception (1 John 2:20–21; 3:1–10). Moreover, Christians presently have eternal life through Christ, one of the blessings of the kingdom of God (1 John 5:11–13).

Revelation

The “already/not yet” aspects of the kingdom of God are manifested in Revelation in the following way: the kingdom of God has already dawned in heaven, but it has not yet appeared on earth. Regarding the former, it is clear from 1:9; 5:1–14; 12:1–6 that Jesus’ death and resurrection inaugurated the advent of the kingdom of God in heaven. Thus, Jesus obediently underwent the messianic woes on the cross and was then raised to heavenly glory, triumphant over the great tribulation. There in heaven, Christ reigns as the invisible Lord over all (including Caesar). But that the kingdom of God has not yet descended to earth is clear in Revelation from two present realities. First, even though Jesus has endured the great tribulation/messianic woes, his followers continue to face many trials (chaps. 6–18). There is no deliverance for them from such affliction until the return of Christ in glory (chap. 19). The only possible exception to this is the divine protection of the 144,000 (chaps. 7; 14). Second, the kingdom of God has not appeared on earth; that event awaits the parousia (chap. 20 [assuming that the premillennial interpretation of that chapter is the most viable reading]). In all of this, it seems that the messianic woes/great tribulation are the divine means for purging the earth in preparation for the future arrival of the temporal, messianic kingdom (chap. 20). After Christ’s one-thousand-year reign on earth, this temporal messianic kingdom will give way to the eternal kingdom of God and its new earth and new heaven (chaps. 21–22). It must be acknowledged, however, that interpretations of chapters 20–22 greatly vary, depending on whether one takes a premillennial, amillennial, or postmillennial perspective.

Conclusion

The preceding data thus seem to confirm that the most apt description of the relationship between the two ages and the kingdom of God that informs the NT is inaugurated eschatology: with the first coming of Christ, the kingdom of God/the age to come dawned, but it will not be until the second coming of Christ that the age to come/kingdom of God will be complete. The church therefore lives in between the times. That is to say, the age to come has broken into this present age, and it is only through the eye of faith that one can now perceive the presence of the kingdom of God.

The Hebrew word ’erets occurs 2,505 times in the OT and is most frequently translated “country” or “land.” “Earth” renders the Greek word gē in the NT. Not surprisingly, ’erets appears 311 times in Genesis alone, the book that initiates Israel’s landed covenant (Gen. 15:18). The primary uses of ’erets are cosmological (e.g., the earth) and geographical (e.g., the land of Israel). Other uses of ’erets include physical (e.g., the ground on which one stands) and political (e.g., governed countries) designations. Less frequently, “earth” translates the Hebrew word ’adamah (“country, ground, land, soil”).

Heaven and Earth

Israel shared the cosmology of its ancient Near Eastern neighbors. This worldview understood the earth as a “disk” upon the primeval waters (Job 38:13; Isa. 40:22), with the earth having four rims or “corners” (Ps. 135:7; Isa. 11:12). These rims were sealed at the horizon to prevent the influx of cosmic waters. God speaks to Job about the dawn grasping the edges of the earth and shaking the evil people out of it (Job 38:12–13). Similarly, the Akkadian text Hymn to the Sun-God states, “You [Shamash] are holding the ends of the earth suspended from the midst of heaven” (I:22). The earth’s boundaries were set against chaos (Ps. 104:7–9; Isa. 40:12). In this way, the Creator and the Savior cannot be separated because, taken together, God works against chaos in the mission of redemption (Ps. 74:12–17; Isa. 51:9–11). The phrase “heavens and earth” is a merism (two extremes representing the whole) for the entire universe (Gen. 1:1; Ps. 102:25). Over the earth arched a firm “vault” (Gen. 1:6). Heaven’s vault rested on the earth’s “pillars,” the mountains (Deut. 32:22; 1 Sam. 2:8). Below the heavens is the sea, part of the earth’s flat surface.

There was no term for “world” in the OT. The perception of world was basically bipartite (heaven and earth), though some tripartite expressions also occur (e.g., heaven, earth, sea [Exod. 20:11; Rev. 5:3, 13]). Though rare, some uses of ’erets may refer to the “underworld” or Sheol (Exod. 15:12; Jer. 17:13; Jon. 2:6). The earth can be regarded as the realm of the dead (Matt. 12:40; Eph. 4:9). However, the OT is less concerned with the organic structure of the earth than with what fills the earth: inhabitants (Ps. 33:14; Isa. 24:1), people groups (Gen. 18:18; Deut. 28:10), and kingdoms (Deut. 28:25; 2 Kings 19:15). The term ’erets can be used symbolically to indicate its inhabitants (Gen. 6:11). However, unlike its neighbors, Israel acknowledged no divine “Mother Earth,” given the cultural associations with female consorts.

The Theology of Land

In biblical faith, the concept of land combines geography with theology. The modern person values land more as a place to build than for its productive capacities. But from the outset, human beings and the “earth” (’erets) functioned in a symbiotic relationship with the Creator (Gen. 1:28). God even gave the land agency to “bring forth living creatures” (Gen. 1:24). The “ground” (’adamah) also provided the raw substance to make the human being (’adam [Gen. 2:7]). In turn, the human being was charged with developing and protecting the land (Gen. 2:5, 15). Showing divine care, the Noahic covenant was “between [God] and the earth” (Gen. 9:13). Thus, land was no mere onlooker; human rebellion had cosmic effects (Gen. 6:7, 17). The land could be cursed and suffer (Gen. 3:17; cf. 4:11).

Israel’s promised land was built on the sanctuary prototype of Eden (Gen. 13:10; Deut. 6:3; 31:20); both were defined by divine blessing, fertility, legal instruction, secure boundaries, and were orienting points for the world. Canaan was Israel’s new paradise, “flowing with milk and honey” (Exod. 3:8; Num. 13:27). Conversely, the lack of fertile land was tantamount to insecurity and judgment. As Eden illustrated for Israel, any rupture of relationship with God brought alienation between humans, God, and the land; this could ultimately bring exile, as an ethically nauseated land “vomits” people out (Lev. 18:25, 28; 20:22; see also Deut. 4; 30).

For Israel, land involved both God’s covenant promise (Gen. 15:18–21; 35:9–12) and the nation’s faithful obedience (Gen. 17:1; Exod. 19:5; 1 Kings 2:1–4). Conditionality and unconditionality coexisted in Israel’s relationship of “sonship” with Yahweh (Exod. 4:22; Hos. 11:1). Yahweh was the earth’s Lord (Ps. 97:5), Judge (Gen. 18:25), and King (Ps. 47:2, 7). Both owner and giver, he was the supreme landlord, who gifted the land to Israel (Exod. 19:5; Lev. 25:23; Josh. 22:19; Ps. 24:1). The land was God’s “inheritance” to give (1 Sam. 26:19; 2 Sam. 14:16; Ps. 79:1; Jer. 2:7). The Levites, however, did not receive an allotment of land as did the other tribes, since God was their “portion” (Num. 18:20; Ps. 73:26). Israel’s obedience was necessary both to enter and to occupy the land (Deut. 8:1–3; 11:8–9; 21:1; 27:1–3). Ironically, the earth swallowed rebellious Israelites when they accused Moses of bringing them “up out of a land flowing with milk and honey” (Num. 16:13). As the conquest shows, however, no tribe was completely obedient, taking its full “inheritance” (Josh. 13:1).

Land possession had serious ethical and religious ramifications (Deut. 26:1–11). Israel was not chosen to receive a special land; rather, land was the medium of Israel’s relationship with God. Land functioned as a spiritual barometer (Ps. 78:56–64; Lam. 1:3–5). The heavens and earth stood as covenant witnesses (Deut. 4:26). Blood, in particular, could physically pollute the land (Num. 35:30–34). National sin could culminate in expulsion (Lev. 26:32–39), and eventually the land was lost (Jer. 25:1–11). For this reason, Israel’s exiles prompted a profound theological crisis.

Inheritance

The notion of inheritance connected Israel’s religious worship with practical stewardship. Land was not owned; it was passed down through patrimonial succession. God entrusted each family with an inheritance that was to be safeguarded (Lev. 25:23–28; Mic. 2:1–2). This highlights the serious crime when Naboth’s vineyard was forcibly stolen (1 Kings 21). It was Israel’s filial sonship with Yahweh and Israel’s land tenure that formed Yahweh’s solidarity with the nation. The law helped limit Israel’s attachment to mere real estate: Yahweh was to be Israel’s preoccupation (see Jer. 3:6–25). When the nation was finally exiled, the message of the new covenant transcended geographical boundaries (Jer. 32:36–44; Ezek. 36–37; cf. Lev. 26:40–45; Deut. 30:1–10). In postexilic Israel, sanctuary was prioritized (Hag. 1:9–14).

It was Israel’s redefinition of land through the exile that prepared the way for the incorporation of the Gentiles (Ezek. 47:22–23), an integration already anticipated (Isa. 56:3–7). The prophets saw a time when the nations would share in the inheritance of God previously guarded by Israel (Isa. 60; Zech. 2:11; cf. Gen. 12:3). Viewed as a political territory, land receives no substantial theological treatment in the NT; rather, inheritance surpasses covenant metaphor. Using the language of sonship and inheritance, Paul develops this new Gentile mission in Galatians (cf. Col. 1:13–14). The OT land motif fully flowers in the NT teaching of adoption (cf. 1 Pet. 1:3–5). Both curse and covenant are resolved eschatologically (Rom. 8:19–22). Inheritance is now found in Christ (Eph. 2:11–22; 1 Pet. 1:4). In the economy of the new covenant, land tenure has matured in fellowship (koinōnia). Koinōnia recalibrates the ethical significance of OT land themes, reapplying them practically through inclusion, lifestyle, economic responsibility, and social equity.

Beyond cosmological realms, heaven and earth are also theological horizons still under God’s ownership. What began as the creation mandate to fill and subdue the earth (Gen. 1:28) culminates in the new creation with Christ (Rom. 8:4–25). Under the power of Satan, the earth “lags behind” heaven. Christ’s mission brings what is qualitatively of heaven onto the earthly stage, often using signs of the budding rule of God (Matt. 6:10; Mark 2:10–11; John 3:31–36; Eph. 4:9–13; Heb. 12:25). As Israel was to stand out in a hostile world (Deut. 4:5–8), now those of Abrahamic faith stand out through Christian love (John 13:34–35; Rom. 4:9–16). According to Heb. 4:1–11, Israel’s initial rest in the land (see Exod. 33:14; Deut. 12:9) culminates in the believers’ rest in Christ (Heb. 4:3, 5). The former inheritance of space gives way to the inheritance of Christ’s presence. The OT theme of land is ultimately fulfilled in Jesus’ exhortation to “abide in me” (John 15).

Earthquake–In Palestine there have been about seventeen recorded major earthquakes in the past two millennia. One of the major sources of these earthquakes is believed to originate from the Jordan Rift Valley. In antiquity earthquakes were viewed as fearful events because the mountains, which represented everlasting durability, were disturbed. The confession of faith is pronounced in association with such phenomena (“We will not fear, though the earth give way” [Ps. 46:2]). An earthquake must have made a great impact in Amos’s day (“two years before the earthquake” [Amos 1:1; cf. Zech. 14:5]).

An earthquake has many symbolic meanings. First, the power of God and his divine presence are manifested through it (Job 9:6; Ps. 68:8; Hag. 2:6). It accompanied theophanic revelation (Exod. 19:18; Isa. 6:4; 1 Kings 19:11–12) when the glory of the Lord appeared (Ezek. 3:12). His divine presence was especially felt when earthquakes occurred during the time of the crucifixion and the resurrection of Jesus Christ (Matt. 27:54; 28:2). It led the centurion to confess of Christ, “Surely he was the Son of God!” (Matt. 27:54). God’s salvation power is represented when an earthquake comes at the appropriate moment, such as when it freed Paul and Silas from prison (Acts 16:26).

Second, it is used in the context of God’s judgment (Isa. 13:13; Amos 9:1; Nah. 1:5). It becomes the symbol of God’s anger and wrath (Ps. 18:7). God brought earthquakes upon the people to destroy evil in the world and to punish those who had sinned against him (Num. 16:31–33; Isa. 29:6; Ezek. 38:19). Earthquake activity possibly explains the background to the story of Sodom and Gomorrah (Gen. 19:24).

Third, earthquakes are said to precede the end of time (Matt. 24:7; Mark 13:8; Luke 21:11). In the apocalyptic book of Revelation, earthquakes are regular occurrences (Rev. 6:12; 11:13, 19; 16:18).

A mystery entails knowledge that is disclosed to some but withheld from others. Nothing is mysterious to God (Heb. 4:13), and he alone understands the full purpose of his will (Job 38:1–40:24; Isa. 46:10), but he also condescends to reveal portions of his will to those whom he chooses (John 16:15).

One way that God reveals such mysteries in the OT is through dreams and their interpretation. This is the dynamic at work in Dan. 2, where God reveals secrets to King Nebuchadnezzar through cryptic imagery. The meaning of this imagery remains hidden, however, until the “mystery was revealed to Daniel in a vision” (v. 19). Once revealed, the dreams detail God’s plans for the future of his kingdom.

Similarly, Jesus’ parables make known the character and future of God’s coming kingdom to his chosen servants, while also concealing it from those outside the circle (Matt. 13:18–23). Paul, by contrast, used “mystery” to refer to the disclosure of God’s plan for the redemption of humanity, namely the inclusion of Gentiles within “Israel” (Rom. 11:25). This plan, foreshadowed in the OT but nevertheless hidden in essentials, had only recently been fully revealed in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ (Rom. 16:25; Eph. 1:9; 1 Tim. 3:16; cf. 1 Pet. 1:10–12). The gospel message is therefore the revelation of this mystery, the proclamation of the truth about Jesus Christ, now made public to the world (Eph. 3:3–9).

The term “predestination” means “to determine or decide something beforehand.” Some form of the Greek verb proorizō (“to determine beforehand”) occurs six times in the NT (Acts 4:28; Rom. 8:29, 30; 1 Cor. 2:7; Eph. 1:5, 11). It is practically synonymous with the concept of foreordination and is closely related to divine foreknowledge (Acts 2:23; Rom. 8:29; 1 Pet. 1:1–2, 20). Various Scriptures indicate that God the Father is the one who predestines (John 17:6–10; Rom. 8:29; Eph. 1:3–5; 1 Pet. 1:2).

The specific objects of predestination are humans, angels, and the Messiah. These divine predeterminations occurred before the creation of the world and were motivated by the love of God (Eph. 1:4–5). In regard to humans, this means that in eternity past, God determined that some individuals would be the recipients of his salvation. However, this determination does not rule out the necessity of human choice, responsibility, and faith. The decision to predestine some individuals for salvation was based not upon anything good or bad in the recipients, but solely on God’s good pleasure and according to his holy, wise, and eternal purpose (Isa. 46:10; Acts 13:48; Rom. 11:33).

Predestination as Part of God’s Larger Plan

The scope of God’s plan. Predestination is a part of God’s all-encompassing eternal plan (Isa. 40:13–14; Rom. 11:34; Eph. 1:11). Several terms express God’s plan. Among these are his “decree” (Ps. 2:7), “eternal purpose” (Eph. 3:11), “foreknowledge” (Acts 2:23), and “will” (Eph. 1:9, 11). God’s plan involves all things that come to pass, including major and insignificant events, direct and indirect causes, things appointed and things permitted. It therefore encompasses both good and evil (Ps. 139:16; Prov. 16:4; Isa. 14:24–27; 22:11; 37:26–27; 46:9–10; Acts 2:23; 4:27–28; Eph. 1:11; 2:10).

The inclusion of evil in the plan of God does not mean that he condones, authorizes, or commits moral evil. The apostle John stresses that God is light and that there is no darkness in him at all (1 John 1:5). He is absolutely holy and cannot be charged with the commission of sin (Hab. 1:13). When addressing the topic of God’s plan and purpose, the biblical authors are careful to distinguish between divine causation and human responsibility. Both fall under the purview of God’s plan. There is divine certainty about what will happen, but moral agents are never under compulsion to commit evil (see Acts 4:28; Rom. 9:11; 1 Cor. 2:7; 11:2; Heb. 2:5, 10–16; 1 Pet. 1:2, 20; 2 Pet. 3:17). For example, when Luke refers to the greatest miscarriage of justice in the history of the world, the crucifixion of Christ, he indicates that it was predestined by God, but the moral turpitude of the act is attributed to “wicked men” (Acts 2:23). The dual nature of such events is aptly reflected in Joseph’s statement to his brothers who sold him into slavery: “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good” (Gen. 50:20 NASB).

Whereas the all-encompassing plan of God relates to his sovereign control over all things, predestination appears to be restricted primarily to certain divine decisions affecting humans, angels, and the Messiah (Isa. 42:1–7; Acts 2:23; 1 Tim. 5:21; 1 Pet. 1:20; 2:4). With reference to humans, Paul states, “In him we were also chosen, having been predestined according to the plan of him who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will” (Eph. 1:11). Some scholars limit predestination to those things “in him,” thus linking this work of God to his purpose in salvation. Others argue that the following phrase, “who works out everything in conformity with the purpose of his will,” demonstrates that all things fall under the purview of God’s controlling and guiding purpose (Eph. 1:11). It seems best to see the phrase “in him” as indicating the sphere in which believers are chosen and the term “predestinated” as one crucial aspect of the greater plan of God.

Divine foreknowledge and election. Some theologians argue that election and predestination are merely based upon God’s foreknowledge of those who will believe in him. Although God surely knows all those who will believe, the term “foreknowledge” connotes much more than simply knowing ahead of time who will come to faith. It means that God has sovereignly chosen to know some individuals in such an intimate way that it moved him to predestine them to eternal life (Rom. 8:29). Whereas the term “election” refers to God’s sovereign choice of those individuals, “predestination” looks forward toward the goal of that selection. Both predestination and election occur in eternity past (Eph. 1:4–5).

The purpose of predestination. Whereas election refers to God’s choice of individuals, predestination looks toward the purpose and goal of that choice. NT believers are designated as chosen by God and appointed to eternal life (Acts 13:48; Eph. 1:4). The express purpose is that they be adopted as his children (Eph. 1:5) and, as beloved children, become “conformed to the image of his Son” (Rom. 8:29). The idea is that those whom God has chosen are predestined in view of the purpose that he desires to fulfill in them, that of becoming his children who are conformed to the image of his Son. The ultimate purpose behind this plan is to bring glory to God (Eph. 1:5–6, 11–12).

Predestination and Reprobation

In his plan, God has chosen some individuals, nations, groups, and angels to fulfill special purposes, implying that other individuals, nations, groups, and angels have not been selected for those same purposes (2 Thess. 2:13; 2 Tim. 2:10; 1 Pet. 1:2). With regard to God’s choice in salvation, this has led some theologians to argue that those not chosen for salvation are by default chosen for eternal damnation. They maintain that predestination applies not only to individuals whom God plans to save, but also to those whom he does not plan to save (Prov. 16:4; Matt. 26:23–24; Rom. 9:10–13, 17–18, 21–22; 2 Tim. 2:20; 1 Pet. 2:8; 2 Pet. 2:3, 9; Jude 4; Rev. 13:8; 20:15). This is sometimes called “reprobation.” The belief in the combined concepts of election and reprobation has been called “double predestination.”

While some scholars in the history of the church have argued that God is just as active in determining the reprobate as he is the elect, others have pointed out that God’s condemnation of the nonelect is based solely upon their sin and unbelief. A real distinction exists in the level of divine involvement with regard to the destiny of one class as compared with the other. God does not appear to have the same relationship to every event or thing in his creation. The degree of divine causation in each case differs. Scripture recognizes a difference between God’s direct working and his permissive will. In this view, God directly chooses some to be saved; however, he does not choose the others to be damned but rather passes them by, allowing them to continue on their own way and eventually suffer the just punishment that their sins deserve.

Whichever view one takes, it seems that the Scripture does not teach reprobation in the same way it teaches predestination leading to eternal life. Whereas the assignment to eternal death is a judicial act taking into account a person’s sin, predestination unto eternal life is purely an act of God’s sovereign grace and mercy not taking into account any actions by those chosen. Carrying the teaching of reprobation to the extreme threatens to view God as capricious, which clearly is not scriptural (1 John 1:5).

Predestination and Human Responsibility

God was in no way obligated or morally impelled to choose or predestine anyone to eternal life. His determination not to choose everyone in no way impinges upon his holy and righteous character (Rom. 9:13). On the contrary, justice would demand that all receive the punishment that they have rightly earned for their sins (Rom. 3:23; 6:23). Therefore, the predestination of some to become like his Son required that God exercise grace and mercy in providing for the cleansing of their sin, which he accomplished through the sacrifice of his beloved Son, Jesus Christ (Acts 2:23).

God’s predetermined plan does not force individuals to respond in predetermined ways, either to accept him or to reject him. In the one case, the sinner is drawn by God to himself but must also choose to place trust in Christ (John 6:37, 44). Even in the radical intervention of God in the life of Saul on the road to Damascus, where the divine call was indeed overpowering, Saul was given opportunity to respond either positively or negatively. In the case of those who are headed for eternal judgment, God’s working is not fatalistic or mechanistic in the sense that a person may want to choose God but God’s predetermined plan will not allow such a response. To the contrary, all are invited to come to Christ (Matt. 11:28; John 3:16). The apostle John clarifies, “Whoever comes to me I will never drive away” (John 6:37 [cf. Matt. 11:28]). Those who do not come to God refuse to do so by their own volition (Matt. 23:37; John 5:40). They are not merely unable to come to God but unwilling to do so (John 5:40; 6:65; Rom. 3:11). The NT teaches that Christ died for their sins (John 3:16), pleadingly warns them to repent, and cites their transgressions as the reason for their condemnation (1 Pet. 2:8; 2 Pet. 2:21–22; Jude 8–16). When all aspects of the issue are considered, there is indeed a mystery that lies outside the boundaries of our comprehension regarding God’s sovereign working and human choice.

The Phenomenon of Prophecy

A prophet is a messenger of God, a person to whom God entrusts his message to an individual or to a nation. Indeed, the last book in the OT is named “Malachi,” which means “my messenger.” Isaiah heard God ask, “Whom shall I send?” and he cried out, “Send me!” (Isa. 6:8). A good template for understanding the phenomenon is Moses and Aaron. Moses was to tell Aaron what to say, and Aaron would say it. “Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘See, I have made you like God to Pharaoh, and your brother Aaron will be your prophet’ ” (Exod. 7:1).

Prophets such as Isaiah were privy to what transpires in heaven, where decisions were being made that control the course of human history. Micaiah describes how he has seen God in the company of the heavenly host deliberating on how to entice Ahab to his death (1 Kings 22:13–23). All the other “prophets” in Ahab’s court were false, since they did not have knowledge of the events beyond human ken, as only true prophets can. Only one who has encountered God in this way can speak as an agent of the heavenly court.

For every true prophet in Israel, there were many false prophets. Moses set guidelines for distinguishing them. True prophets prophesy in accordance with revealed religion. If a prophet contradicts the law, for example, and calls Israel to worship another god, this is not a true prophet (Deut. 18:20). Also, if a prophet predicts something that does not come to pass, that is also a false prophet (Deut. 18:21–22). These criteria are not mechanical and automatic, however. Sometimes a prophet may appear to contradict prior revelation (Jer. 26:11), and sometimes the predicted judgment is staved off by national repentance (Jon. 4). Also, sometimes God may test the people with a false prophet who makes a true prediction (Deut. 13:1–3).

True prophets occasionally exhibited bizarre behavior. Saul, while pursuing David, was suddenly possessed by the Spirit of God and lay naked day and night, prophesying. This caused the people to ask if Saul was now one of the prophets (1 Sam. 19:24). Even in the ancient world, prophets were considered a bit crazy (2 Kings 9:11; Jer. 23:9; 29:26; Hos. 9:7). The phenomenon he experienced is referred to as “ecstasy.” The practice of tongues in the NT church also seems to have been ecstatic behavior. Paul notes that observers would call practitioners “out of your mind” (1 Cor. 14:23). At Pentecost, some observers thought that the apostles were drunk. Peter replied that they were not drunk but rather had the Spirit upon them (Acts 2:15–21).

The word “prophet” refers to one who foretells the future. Of course, many people cannot accept the notion of real prophecy and thus regard all prophecy as an illusion. Either the text was written after the fact, or it was couched in such general terms that it is no miracle that it came true, or else it was a lucky guess. The text itself, however, wants to be read as real prophecy, and Christians before the modern age read it as such. After all, to reject the supernatural elements in the Bible ultimately leads to rejecting the resurrection of Christ.

However, the modern Christian should not focus on the predictive part of the prophets’ message to such an extent that the “forthtelling” element is neglected. Forthtelling is the prophets’ chief ministry—calling the people to mercy and justice, to obedience to the law and fidelity to God. Christians who believe the Bible should take seriously the predictions about the future, but even more so the challenges about the present.

The Books of Prophecy in the Old Testament

The OT of Catholic and Protestant Bibles is roughly organized around the Greek translation of the OT, the Septuagint. Thus, Daniel is considered a prophetic book, and the prophets are separated from the historical books by the poetical books. However, the Hebrew Bible has a different organization. It has only eight “books” of prophecy, divided into the Former Prophets and the Latter Prophets. The Former Prophets are Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. Traditionally, Samuel wrote Judges. The books of 1 Samuel and 2 Samuel form one scroll, as do 1 Kings and 2 Kings. The book of Samuel bears the name of the prophet, and Kings is substantially about Elijah and Elisha. The four Former Prophets witness to the outworking of the covenant sanctions, from the Israelites’ entry into the promised land to their expulsion from it.

Usually, when Christians speak of the prophets, they are referring to the Latter Prophets, plus Daniel. In Catholic and Protestant Bibles there are four Major Prophets: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel; and twelve Minor Prophets: Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi. Many other prophets ministered in Israel but have no scroll that bears their name. Thus, the ones listed above can be called the “writing prophets.”

Isaiah. The book of Isaiah preserves the sermons from the prophet who ministered during the time when Hezekiah was king of Judah, the southern kingdom. Isaiah saw Jerusalem surrounded by the Assyrian army and assured the king that God would deliver his people. That message of salvation is the overall theme of the book, a salvation universal in scope and focused on the figure of the Suffering Servant. Isaiah claims that this servant of God would be wounded and “cut off from the land of the living” (Isa. 53:8) and through this would bring healing and salvation to his people. He would see this and make many righteous (Isa. 53).

The NT refers to Isaiah more often than any other prophet, always to demonstrate that the truths of the gospel of Jesus Christ were revealed in advance by the prophet. For example, Paul cites Isa. 1:9 in his argument as to why the Jews had rejected the gospel (Rom. 9:29). When Jesus withdrew to the area of Zebulun and Naphtali, Matthew says that this act fulfilled Isa. 9:1–2 (Matt. 4:15–16). Jesus himself cites Isa. 53:12, “[he] was numbered with the transgressors,” and claims that it was written about him (Luke 22:37). He does the same with Isa. 61:1–2 (Luke 4:18–21).

Jeremiah. The book of Jeremiah puts in writing the words of the prophet Jeremiah, who ministered at the very end of the kingdom of Judah and lived through the destruction of Jerusalem, with its temple and the people of God being taken away to forced exile and captivity. He sees the weakness and powerlessness of the covenant that God had made with his people to stir up love and fidelity in their hearts to him. According to Jeremiah, what the people chiefly need is a new covenant altogether, one that is not external and written on tablets of stone, but internal, written on their hearts. They need a change of personality to become a different sort of people altogether. This is what Jeremiah predicts will happen in the coming age after their time of captivity is over (Jer. 31:31–40). The NT identifies this new covenant with the gospel of Jesus (Heb. 8:8–12), secured by his blood (Heb. 10:16–17). This is the new covenant that Jesus announces to his disciples when he eats the Last Supper with them (Luke 22:20).

Ezekiel. The book of Ezekiel picks up where Jeremiah leaves off and continues from the destruction of Jerusalem into the early years of the Babylonian captivity. Like Jeremiah, Ezekiel sees the failure of the old covenant. He likens Israel to a married woman who violates her marriage covenant at every turn (Ezek. 16). The prophet also foresees a future character transformation of God’s people. “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws” (Ezek. 36:26–27). This is graphically illustrated in Ezek. 37, where the prophet is told to prophesy to a valley of dry bones, and through the preaching of the word of God the company of the dead come to life and become a vast army—not of skeletons, but of vitally alive warriors. This is a vision of what will happen when God makes an everlasting covenant with them and will dwell with them forever (Ezek. 37:26–27). Paul cites this in 2 Cor. 6:16 and argues, “We are the temple of the living God.” The last part of Ezekiel describes a great, larger-than-life temple that Paul interprets to be the church. Thus, Ezekiel anticipates the preaching of the gospel, bringing spiritual life to a vast company of believers, among whom God himself will dwell.

Daniel. The book of Daniel is not a prophetic book by genre, but much of it is devoted to predicting the future, so in Catholic and Protestant Bibles it is placed between Ezekiel and the Minor Prophets. Prophecy calls the people to repentance and threatens judgment on them due to their sin. Daniel does the opposite: it calls them to persevere as saints, while the evil nations oppress them, until the end of time, when they will be vindicated. Daniel comforts the faithful who are suffering due to the sins of the nations.

The Twelve. The twelve Minor Prophets follow a roughly chronological sequence (with some notable exceptions). Hosea, Amos, and Micah date from the rise of Assyria as the great power that threatened Israel and Judah. Nahum, Habakkuk, and Zephaniah date from near the end of Assyrian dominance and the rise of Babylon. The Babylonian exile is skipped, and the last three—Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi—were written after the Jews’ restoration to the land of Judah. Joel, Obadiah, and Jonah are difficult to date with certainty.

Read as one book, the Minor Prophets tell a story of God’s constancy and fidelity even though everything else in the world changes. They begin with all twelve tribes intact and enjoying prosperity in the land. In Judah, there is a king on the throne of David. But by the end, most of the tribes are lost, the monarchy is no more, Jerusalem and the temple have been destroyed, and the Jews are under the heel of foreign powers. After all of that, God says to them, almost as the moral of the whole history of the OT, “I the Lord do not change. So you, the descendants of Jacob, are not destroyed. Ever since the time of your ancestors you have turned away from my decrees and have not kept them. Return to me, and I will return to you” (Mal. 3:6–7). Deeply explored in the Minor Prophets is the day of the Lord, the climax and denouement of history, in which all the words of the prophets will finally be fulfilled (see Joel and Zephaniah). The reader is given, as a picture of this day, a view of the repentance of one generation of Ninevites at the preaching of Jonah and of the final judgment to fall on that city as described by Nahum.

The NT cites the Minor Prophets much more often than any book of prophecy except Isaiah. Peter draws upon Joel 2:28–32 to explain the pouring out of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:17–21). James cites Amos 9:11–12 to demonstrate that salvation was always intended for the Gentiles as well as the Jews (Acts 15:16–17). Paul quotes Hab. 2:4 to argue that righteousness before God comes through faith (Rom. 1:17; Gal. 3:11). Jesus says that like Jonah, he will return to the land of the living after three days (Matt. 12:38–41).

Prophecy in the New Testament

In the NT period there were a number of prophets. John the Baptist could point to Jesus and proclaim him to be the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world (John 1:29). Agabus the prophet predicted a famine and, later, Paul’s arrest (Acts 11:28; 21:10–11).

Paul lists “gifts of the Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:4–11), including prophecy and various phenomena reminiscent of the OT prophets’ ecstatic state. Paul warns the Corinthians not to overdo this sort of thing and so to be mature (1 Cor. 14:19–20). Near the end of his life, in one of his last letters, he speaks of prophecy as normative in the church, particularly in establishing an authoritative body of elders to rule and especially to preach the gospel (1 Tim. 1:18; 4:14). Peter draws a connection between the ministry of the OT prophets and the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Evangelism seems to be the normative mode for prophecy today: forthtelling by calling people to turn from their sins to Jesus, and foretelling by speaking of his return and the final judgment.

Thus, all Christians hold the office of prophet, even if they never participate in the ecstatic state experienced by the Corinthians. The greatness of a prophet is in how clearly the prophet points to Jesus. John the Baptist was the greatest of the OT prophets by that measure, but any Christian on this side of the cross and resurrection can proclaim the gospel even more clearly. Thus, the prophetic ministry of any Christian is greater than John’s (Matt. 11:11).

Inheritance is an important concept that the Bible uses in several ways.

Family. In the ancient world every culture had customs for the passing of wealth and possessions from one generation to the next. In ancient Israel special provisions were made for inheriting land upon the death of the father. The firstborn son received a double portion; the rest was divided equally among the remaining sons. If a man lacked sons, priority went to the following in order: daughters, brothers, father’s brothers, next of kin (Num. 27:1–11). The OT provides guidance for additional circumstances (Gen. 38:8–9; Num. 36:6; Lev. 25:23–24; Deut. 21:15–17; 25:5–10; Ruth 2:20; 3:9–13; 4:1–12), with an overriding concern for the stability of the family and the retention of the land within a tribe. Under Roman law during the NT period, an heir had legal standing even while the father was still alive; his status was based on birth or adoption rather than the father’s death.

Old Testament. Even more prominent than family inheritance is the assertion that God gave the land of Canaan to Abraham and his descendants as an inheritance (Gen. 12:7; 15:18–21; 17:8; Num. 34:1–29; Deut. 12:10). This inheritance is God’s gracious gift, not something that Israel earned by its righteousness (Deut. 9:4–7). Descriptions of the land (“flowing with milk and honey”) and its fertility portray this gift as a new Eden, where God will dwell with his people (Exod. 3:8, 17; Lev. 20:24; Num. 16:13–14; Deut. 11:9–12). In some texts the language of inheritance moves beyond the land of Canaan to an international scope. In Ps. 2:8 the anointed king recounts God saying to him, “Ask me, and I will make the nations your inheritance, the ends of the earth your possession.” This expansion of inheritance from the land of Canaan to the ends of the earth prepares the way for a similar expansion in the NT (see Rom. 4:13).

God’s relationship with Israel is also described in terms of inheritance. On the one hand, Israel is described as God’s inheritance (Deut. 32:9; 1 Sam. 10:1; 1 Kings 8:51–53); on the other hand, God is Israel’s inheritance (Pss. 16:5; 73:26; Jer. 10:16; 51:19). This mutuality expresses the intimacy of God’s relationship with Israel.

New Testament. Inheritance language is taken up in the NT and expanded in a variety of ways. First and foremost, Jesus Christ is the “heir of all things,” the Son to whom the Father has given all authority in heaven and on earth (Matt. 28:18–20; Heb. 1:2–5). Through their union with Christ, believers share in Christ’s inheritance (Rom. 8:17), having been qualified by the Father to share in that inheritance (Col. 1:12). What believers inherit is described in various ways: the earth (Matt. 5:5), eternal life (Luke 10:25), the kingdom (1 Cor. 6:9–10; James 2:5), salvation (Heb. 1:14), blessing (Heb. 12:17; 1 Pet. 3:9). This inheritance was enacted by the death of Christ and sealed by his blood (Heb. 9:15–28). Believers experience the benefits of this inheritance through the Spirit now (Eph. 1:14, 18), but its fullness is reserved in heaven and awaits the consummation (1 Pet. 1:4–6).

The connection between the believer’s inheritance and the Spirit is especially prominent in Paul. In Gal. 4:1–7 Paul uses a combination of exodus and legal imagery to explain the gospel. Before Christ came, God’s people were heirs under the care of guardians and trustees. But once Christ came and redeemed them from under the law, they received their full inheritance as adopted sons and daughters. Central to that inheritance is the gift of the Spirit, who cries out, “Abba, Father.” It is this gift of the Spirit that definitively marks believers as sons and daughters rather than slaves. Because believers possess the Spirit as an inheritance in fulfillment of the promise to Abraham (Gal. 3:14; cf. Isa. 44:3–5), they have moved from bondage under the law to freedom in Christ (Gal. 5:1).

The Phenomenon of Prophecy

A prophet is a messenger of God, a person to whom God entrusts his message to an individual or to a nation. Indeed, the last book in the OT is named “Malachi,” which means “my messenger.” Isaiah heard God ask, “Whom shall I send?” and he cried out, “Send me!” (Isa. 6:8). A good template for understanding the phenomenon is Moses and Aaron. Moses was to tell Aaron what to say, and Aaron would say it. “Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘See, I have made you like God to Pharaoh, and your brother Aaron will be your prophet’ ” (Exod. 7:1).

Prophets such as Isaiah were privy to what transpires in heaven, where decisions were being made that control the course of human history. Micaiah describes how he has seen God in the company of the heavenly host deliberating on how to entice Ahab to his death (1 Kings 22:13–23). All the other “prophets” in Ahab’s court were false, since they did not have knowledge of the events beyond human ken, as only true prophets can. Only one who has encountered God in this way can speak as an agent of the heavenly court.

For every true prophet in Israel, there were many false prophets. Moses set guidelines for distinguishing them. True prophets prophesy in accordance with revealed religion. If a prophet contradicts the law, for example, and calls Israel to worship another god, this is not a true prophet (Deut. 18:20). Also, if a prophet predicts something that does not come to pass, that is also a false prophet (Deut. 18:21–22). These criteria are not mechanical and automatic, however. Sometimes a prophet may appear to contradict prior revelation (Jer. 26:11), and sometimes the predicted judgment is staved off by national repentance (Jon. 4). Also, sometimes God may test the people with a false prophet who makes a true prediction (Deut. 13:1–3).

True prophets occasionally exhibited bizarre behavior. Saul, while pursuing David, was suddenly possessed by the Spirit of God and lay naked day and night, prophesying. This caused the people to ask if Saul was now one of the prophets (1 Sam. 19:24). Even in the ancient world, prophets were considered a bit crazy (2 Kings 9:11; Jer. 23:9; 29:26; Hos. 9:7). The phenomenon he experienced is referred to as “ecstasy.” The practice of tongues in the NT church also seems to have been ecstatic behavior. Paul notes that observers would call practitioners “out of your mind” (1 Cor. 14:23). At Pentecost, some observers thought that the apostles were drunk. Peter replied that they were not drunk but rather had the Spirit upon them (Acts 2:15–21).

The word “prophet” refers to one who foretells the future. Of course, many people cannot accept the notion of real prophecy and thus regard all prophecy as an illusion. Either the text was written after the fact, or it was couched in such general terms that it is no miracle that it came true, or else it was a lucky guess. The text itself, however, wants to be read as real prophecy, and Christians before the modern age read it as such. After all, to reject the supernatural elements in the Bible ultimately leads to rejecting the resurrection of Christ.

However, the modern Christian should not focus on the predictive part of the prophets’ message to such an extent that the “forthtelling” element is neglected. Forthtelling is the prophets’ chief ministry—calling the people to mercy and justice, to obedience to the law and fidelity to God. Christians who believe the Bible should take seriously the predictions about the future, but even more so the challenges about the present.

The Books of Prophecy in the Old Testament

The OT of Catholic and Protestant Bibles is roughly organized around the Greek translation of the OT, the Septuagint. Thus, Daniel is considered a prophetic book, and the prophets are separated from the historical books by the poetical books. However, the Hebrew Bible has a different organization. It has only eight “books” of prophecy, divided into the Former Prophets and the Latter Prophets. The Former Prophets are Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings. Traditionally, Samuel wrote Judges. The books of 1 Samuel and 2 Samuel form one scroll, as do 1 Kings and 2 Kings. The book of Samuel bears the name of the prophet, and Kings is substantially about Elijah and Elisha. The four Former Prophets witness to the outworking of the covenant sanctions, from the Israelites’ entry into the promised land to their expulsion from it.

Usually, when Christians speak of the prophets, they are referring to the Latter Prophets, plus Daniel. In Catholic and Protestant Bibles there are four Major Prophets: Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel; and twelve Minor Prophets: Hosea, Joel, Amos, Obadiah, Jonah, Micah, Nahum, Habakkuk, Zephaniah, Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi. Many other prophets ministered in Israel but have no scroll that bears their name. Thus, the ones listed above can be called the “writing prophets.”

Isaiah. The book of Isaiah preserves the sermons from the prophet who ministered during the time when Hezekiah was king of Judah, the southern kingdom. Isaiah saw Jerusalem surrounded by the Assyrian army and assured the king that God would deliver his people. That message of salvation is the overall theme of the book, a salvation universal in scope and focused on the figure of the Suffering Servant. Isaiah claims that this servant of God would be wounded and “cut off from the land of the living” (Isa. 53:8) and through this would bring healing and salvation to his people. He would see this and make many righteous (Isa. 53).

The NT refers to Isaiah more often than any other prophet, always to demonstrate that the truths of the gospel of Jesus Christ were revealed in advance by the prophet. For example, Paul cites Isa. 1:9 in his argument as to why the Jews had rejected the gospel (Rom. 9:29). When Jesus withdrew to the area of Zebulun and Naphtali, Matthew says that this act fulfilled Isa. 9:1–2 (Matt. 4:15–16). Jesus himself cites Isa. 53:12, “[he] was numbered with the transgressors,” and claims that it was written about him (Luke 22:37). He does the same with Isa. 61:1–2 (Luke 4:18–21).

Jeremiah. The book of Jeremiah puts in writing the words of the prophet Jeremiah, who ministered at the very end of the kingdom of Judah and lived through the destruction of Jerusalem, with its temple and the people of God being taken away to forced exile and captivity. He sees the weakness and powerlessness of the covenant that God had made with his people to stir up love and fidelity in their hearts to him. According to Jeremiah, what the people chiefly need is a new covenant altogether, one that is not external and written on tablets of stone, but internal, written on their hearts. They need a change of personality to become a different sort of people altogether. This is what Jeremiah predicts will happen in the coming age after their time of captivity is over (Jer. 31:31–40). The NT identifies this new covenant with the gospel of Jesus (Heb. 8:8–12), secured by his blood (Heb. 10:16–17). This is the new covenant that Jesus announces to his disciples when he eats the Last Supper with them (Luke 22:20).

Ezekiel. The book of Ezekiel picks up where Jeremiah leaves off and continues from the destruction of Jerusalem into the early years of the Babylonian captivity. Like Jeremiah, Ezekiel sees the failure of the old covenant. He likens Israel to a married woman who violates her marriage covenant at every turn (Ezek. 16). The prophet also foresees a future character transformation of God’s people. “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws” (Ezek. 36:26–27). This is graphically illustrated in Ezek. 37, where the prophet is told to prophesy to a valley of dry bones, and through the preaching of the word of God the company of the dead come to life and become a vast army—not of skeletons, but of vitally alive warriors. This is a vision of what will happen when God makes an everlasting covenant with them and will dwell with them forever (Ezek. 37:26–27). Paul cites this in 2 Cor. 6:16 and argues, “We are the temple of the living God.” The last part of Ezekiel describes a great, larger-than-life temple that Paul interprets to be the church. Thus, Ezekiel anticipates the preaching of the gospel, bringing spiritual life to a vast company of believers, among whom God himself will dwell.

Daniel. The book of Daniel is not a prophetic book by genre, but much of it is devoted to predicting the future, so in Catholic and Protestant Bibles it is placed between Ezekiel and the Minor Prophets. Prophecy calls the people to repentance and threatens judgment on them due to their sin. Daniel does the opposite: it calls them to persevere as saints, while the evil nations oppress them, until the end of time, when they will be vindicated. Daniel comforts the faithful who are suffering due to the sins of the nations.

The Twelve. The twelve Minor Prophets follow a roughly chronological sequence (with some notable exceptions). Hosea, Amos, and Micah date from the rise of Assyria as the great power that threatened Israel and Judah. Nahum, Habakkuk, and Zephaniah date from near the end of Assyrian dominance and the rise of Babylon. The Babylonian exile is skipped, and the last three—Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi—were written after the Jews’ restoration to the land of Judah. Joel, Obadiah, and Jonah are difficult to date with certainty.

Read as one book, the Minor Prophets tell a story of God’s constancy and fidelity even though everything else in the world changes. They begin with all twelve tribes intact and enjoying prosperity in the land. In Judah, there is a king on the throne of David. But by the end, most of the tribes are lost, the monarchy is no more, Jerusalem and the temple have been destroyed, and the Jews are under the heel of foreign powers. After all of that, God says to them, almost as the moral of the whole history of the OT, “I the Lord do not change. So you, the descendants of Jacob, are not destroyed. Ever since the time of your ancestors you have turned away from my decrees and have not kept them. Return to me, and I will return to you” (Mal. 3:6–7). Deeply explored in the Minor Prophets is the day of the Lord, the climax and denouement of history, in which all the words of the prophets will finally be fulfilled (see Joel and Zephaniah). The reader is given, as a picture of this day, a view of the repentance of one generation of Ninevites at the preaching of Jonah and of the final judgment to fall on that city as described by Nahum.

The NT cites the Minor Prophets much more often than any book of prophecy except Isaiah. Peter draws upon Joel 2:28–32 to explain the pouring out of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:17–21). James cites Amos 9:11–12 to demonstrate that salvation was always intended for the Gentiles as well as the Jews (Acts 15:16–17). Paul quotes Hab. 2:4 to argue that righteousness before God comes through faith (Rom. 1:17; Gal. 3:11). Jesus says that like Jonah, he will return to the land of the living after three days (Matt. 12:38–41).

Prophecy in the New Testament

In the NT period there were a number of prophets. John the Baptist could point to Jesus and proclaim him to be the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world (John 1:29). Agabus the prophet predicted a famine and, later, Paul’s arrest (Acts 11:28; 21:10–11).

Paul lists “gifts of the Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:4–11), including prophecy and various phenomena reminiscent of the OT prophets’ ecstatic state. Paul warns the Corinthians not to overdo this sort of thing and so to be mature (1 Cor. 14:19–20). Near the end of his life, in one of his last letters, he speaks of prophecy as normative in the church, particularly in establishing an authoritative body of elders to rule and especially to preach the gospel (1 Tim. 1:18; 4:14). Peter draws a connection between the ministry of the OT prophets and the proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ (1 Pet. 1:10–12). Evangelism seems to be the normative mode for prophecy today: forthtelling by calling people to turn from their sins to Jesus, and foretelling by speaking of his return and the final judgment.

Thus, all Christians hold the office of prophet, even if they never participate in the ecstatic state experienced by the Corinthians. The greatness of a prophet is in how clearly the prophet points to Jesus. John the Baptist was the greatest of the OT prophets by that measure, but any Christian on this side of the cross and resurrection can proclaim the gospel even more clearly. Thus, the prophetic ministry of any Christian is greater than John’s (Matt. 11:11).

Many of the letters, or epistles, in the Bible include salutations consisting of expressions of goodwill from the sender to the recipient. Salutations can be found at the beginning and end of the NT Epistles. While the salutation itself was not the invention of the authors of the NT Epistles, the form has been adapted in this literature to express explicitly Christian theological content.

The simplest form of salutation found in the NT is simply “Greetings,” which appears in James 1:1, as well as in the letter sent from Jerusalem to Antioch (Acts 15:23) and the letter of Claudius Lysias to Felix (Acts 23:26). See also the examples of secular correspondence in Ezra 4:17; 7:12; Dan. 4:1.

Most of the letters bearing the name of Paul begin with the greeting “Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 1:7) or a slight variation thereof (1 Cor. 1:3; 2 Cor. 1:2; Eph. 1:2; Phil. 1:2; Col. 1:2; 1 Thess. 1:1; 2 Thess. 1:2; Titus 1:4; Philem. 3). The salutation in Gal. 1:3–5 is a theological expansion of Paul’s standard salutation. The salutations in 1 Tim. 1:2 and 2 Tim. 1:2 include “Grace, mercy, and peace.”

The salutation of the Petrine letters is “Grace and peace be yours in abundance” (1 Pet. 1:2; 2 Pet. 1:2). Salutations are also found in 2 John 3; Jude 2; Rev. 1:4–5. Hebrews, 1 John, and 3 John do not begin with salutations.

In a number of cases, salutatory remarks function to close the letter near its end, often in connection with individual greetings. See Rom. 16:20; 1 Cor. 16:21–24; 2 Cor. 13:14; Gal. 6:18; Eph. 6:23–24; Phil. 4:23; Col. 4:18; 1 Thess. 5:28; 2 Thess. 3:16–18; 1 Tim. 6:21; 2 Tim. 4:22; Titus 3:15; Philem. 25; 1 Pet. 5:14.

Jesus’ personal return to earth at the end of history. Three main Greek terms are used in the NT to describe this event: parousia, apokalypsis, and epiphaneia. The word parousia means “presence” or “arrival” and was used in ancient times to describe the arrival of a ruler or king (e.g., Matt. 24:3, 27, 37, 39; 1 Cor. 15:23; 1 Thess. 3:13; 4:15; 5:23; 2 Thess. 2:1, 8; James 5:7–8; 2 Pet. 3:4, 12; 1 John 2:28). The term apokalypsis refers to an “unveiling” or “revealing” of Jesus Christ at the end of the age (Rom. 2:5; 1 Cor. 1:7; 2 Thess. 1:7; 1 Pet. 1:7, 13; 4:13; cf. Rev. 1:1). The word epiphaneia speaks of an “appearing” or “manifestation” and refers to the visible, earthly appearance of Jesus (2 Thess. 2:8; 1 Tim. 6:14; 2 Tim. 4:1, 8; Titus 2:13).

Jesus clearly predicted his second coming in his Olivet Discourse: “Then will appear the sign of the Son of Man in heaven. And then all the peoples of the earth will mourn when they see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven, with power and great glory” (Matt. 24:30). Jesus uses the word “come” in this discourse to speak about his return (Matt. 24:39, 42–44, 46; 25:19, 27, 31). Jesus’ return is also predicted by angels (e.g., Acts 1:11) and apostles (Phil. 3:20; Acts 3:20–21; 1 Cor. 11:26; Heb. 9:28).

The NT describes certain events that will precede Jesus’ coming. There will be wars, famines, earthquakes, and other cosmic disturbances (Matt. 24:6–8, 29). Believers will be persecuted and hated (Matt. 24:9–13, 21–22). Many erstwhile believers will turn away from the faith (Matt. 24:10–13; 1 Tim. 4:1; 2 Tim. 3:1–5; 2 Pet. 3:3–4). There will be false messiahs and false prophets who will deceive many through signs and wonders (Matt. 24:11, 23–26). The “man of lawlessness” (sometimes referred to as the antichrist) will be revealed (2 Thess. 2:1–12). In addition, the gospel will be preached to all nations (Matt. 24:14).

Although Jesus’ coming is certain, its exact time is uncertain in the sense that it cannot be predicted. Jesus himself said, “But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (Matt. 24:36 [cf. Acts 1:7; 3:21; 2 Pet. 3:4, 8–9]).

When Jesus comes again, his return will be visible to all, like “lightning that comes from the east is visible even in the west” (Matt. 24:27). The last trumpet will announce his coming in awesome power and great glory with his holy angels (Matt. 16:27; 24:30–31; 25:31; 1 Cor. 15:52; 1 Thess. 3:13; 4:16; 2 Thess. 1:7; 2:8; Jude 14). His coming will also be sudden and unexpected, “like a thief in the night” (1 Thess. 5:1–2; see also Matt. 24:37–39, 43–44; 2 Pet. 3:10; Rev. 16:15).

Jesus will come again for several reasons. He will raise the dead (John 5:28–29; 1 Cor. 15:22–23, 52; 1 Thess. 4:16) and separate the wicked from the righteous (Matt. 24:40–41; 25:31–32). He will transform the bodies of believers into glorious resurrection bodies (1 Cor. 15:51–53; Phil. 3:20–21), gather his followers to himself (1 Thess. 4:17; 2 Thess. 2:1), and reward them for their faithfulness (Matt. 16:27; 24:46–47; 1 Thess. 2:19; 2 Tim. 4:8; 1 Pet. 5:4; Rev. 22:12). The believer’s suffering will be replaced with the Lord’s praise (2 Thess. 1:7; 1 Pet. 1:7; 4:13) and the full experience of salvation (Heb. 9:28). By contrast, Jesus’ second advent means wrath for the wicked (Matt. 24:51; Rom. 2:5; 2 Thess. 1:8–9; Jude 15; Rev. 20:11–15) and destruction for God’s enemies (1 Cor. 15:25–26; 2 Thess. 2:8; Rev. 19:11–21; 20:7–10).

Since his coming is imminent but its timing uncertain, believers should eagerly expect his return (1 Cor. 1:7; 11:26; 16:22; Phil. 3:20; James 5:7–8; Rev. 22:20). Remaining watchful and ready consists of being faithfully engaged in doing what Jesus instructed (Matt. 24:46; 25:14–30; 1 John 2:28), even if this means suffering (Matt. 24:13; 1 Pet. 1:6–7). Believers are called to live holy and blameless lives in anticipation of meeting Jesus face-to-face (1 Thess. 3:13; 5:23; 1 Tim. 6:14; 1 Pet. 1:13; 2 Pet. 3:11–14; 1 John 2:28–29; 3:2–3). The promise of Jesus’ return is a motivation for mission (2 Tim. 4:1–2; 2 Pet. 3:12) and obedience (Rev. 22:7, 12, 17). It is, in short, the “blessed hope” of the believer (Titus 2:13).

Second Peter is a model of the Christian approach to those who are tempted to follow another gospel.

Outline

I. Greetings (1:1–2)

II. Put God’s Grace to Work (1:3–11)

III. Remember the Basis for Your Faith (1:12–21)

IV. Reject False Teachers (2:1–22)

V. On This Basis, Look to the Future (3:1–18)

Authorship and Date

The author is identified as “Simeon” Peter, using the Hebrew spelling of the name (1:1 ESV, NRSV; cf. Acts 15:14). He is “a servant and apostle of Jesus Christ” (1:1; cf. Rom. 1:1; Titus 1:1; James 1:1; Jude 1) and an eyewitness of his transfiguration (1:16–18; cf. Mark 9:2). He speaks affectionately of Paul as a colleague (3:15). He bases his argument against false teachers on the Scriptures and his own testimony as well as that of the other eyewitnesses (1:16; cf. 1 Pet. 5:1) of Jesus’ work. He refers (3:1) to an earlier letter that he wrote to the same people, probably a reference to 1 Peter.

A number of second-century authorities report that Peter ministered in Rome, on and off, for up to twenty-five years prior to his execution by Nero in AD 65. Here he speaks of his own imminent execution, recalling Jesus’ words to him (1:14; cf. John 21:19). He speaks of having taken steps to ensure that his testimony will be available after his death, which may be an allusion to Mark’s Gospel, as later Christian writers tell us.

Toward the end of the second century some doubted the authenticity of 2 Peter. A number of works had appeared in the second century claiming to be by Peter. The early church was well aware of the use of forgeries written in the names of the apostles to spread false teaching (even during their lifetimes [cf. 2 Thess. 2:2]). It appears that 2 Peter was not as widely known or used as 1 Peter, but the early church affirmed and defended the authenticity of both letters.

Destination

The letter gives no indication of its destination other than the reference to a former letter in 3:1. If this former letter was 1 Peter, then 2 Peter would have been sent to the same communities (Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia [so 1 Pet. 1:1]). This possibility is supported by the similar use of traditions concerning Noah and Enoch in both letters. However, 1 Peter gives no indication that Peter had any personal acquaintance with his addressees, whereas 2 Peter does (1:16). Given the extensive allusions to Jewish traditions not found in the OT, we can conclude that Peter was writing to Jewish Christians to whom these traditions had a strong appeal.

Relationship to the Epistle of Jude

Second Peter 2 and Jude 4–21 are extraordinarily similar not only in content and wording but also in their order. Scholars have speculated as to which author used the work of the other or whether both used a common source. We have no evidence that would settle the question. What we do know is that both letters interact heavily with the traditions associated with 1 Enoch.

These Enochic traditions differ from the teachings of the Pharisees and the Sadducees. They were accepted as authentic and authoritative at least by the Qumran community/Essenes (cf. CD-A 6:1–6; Jub. 1.1–9; 4.17–19). Whereas Jude (14–15) cites 1 En. 1.9 directly, 2 Peter only speaks about these stories.

According to the Enochic traditions, salvation was for ethnically pure Israel, observing rigorously the specifications for worship and lifestyle laid down in these pseudepigraphical revelations. While this tradition expected a day of judgment similar to that set forth in the Scriptures, it differed with the Christian gospel in its understanding of the origins of sin and evil (people are initially victims, not perpetrators) and of the way of salvation (rigorously keeping the Enochic rules). The Son of Man (of Dan. 7:13–14) is Enoch (1 En. 71), not Jesus. There is no place here for a crucified Messiah whose death would atone for sin, for the abandonment of OT food laws and sacrifices, or the acceptance of uncircumcised Gentiles into the assembly.

Second Peter and Jude deal in the strongest terms with false teachers who profess to base their teaching on fraudulent revelations (2 Pet. 1:16; Jude 1:8) and who deny Jesus as Lord. This tradition focused heavily on the Zadokite priesthood and the need to restore a pure temple. Peter and Jude’s polemic makes extensive connections between false teaching and all manner of corruption and uncleanness that would disqualify such a priesthood (2 Pet. 2:2, 10, 13, 15, 19, 22; cf. 1 Pet. 2:1–10; Jude 8, 11–13, 16).

The similarities between the two letters probably are the result of the two authors conferring together in some way. We know that Peter and his family traveled on missionary work, as did the brothers of Jesus (1 Cor. 9:5). We do not know where Jude was when either of these letters was written. The urgency that provoked Jude’s letter is also reflected in 2 Peter. The church was facing physical persecution in Rome as well as these false teachers who sought to lead Jewish believers away from Jesus. Meanwhile, Roman control of Judea was crumbling.

Main Themes

Second Peter focuses first on the work of God in Christ, which saves those who believe in Jesus (1:3). This faith is based on the knowledge of God and of Jesus (1:2) and is a response to the gospel call. God has given to the believer everything needed to live in a godly way, to endure, and to discern truth from error so as to die assured of not having been deceived (1:4).

Peter grounds that assurance in the Scriptures (1:19–21), in the testimony of the eyewitnesses of Jesus (1:12–16), including himself, and in the writings of the apostle Paul, to whom Jesus had given wisdom for this purpose (3:15–16). One develops certainty in the faith not only by referring to these sources but also by putting the faith into practice (1:5, 10, 15). The faith then is rooted in history, not in “cleverly invented stories” (1:16). Consequently, Peter expresses his passion to see that his eyewitness account will be accessible to the next generation (1:14–15).

He speaks plainly of “Scripture” as an identifiable body of texts written at the instigation of the Holy Spirit (1:20–21) and places the writings of Paul on the same level (3:16). By this, Peter implies that his letter is to be received as carrying the same authority and usefulness.

False teachers are a permanent challenge to God’s people. Doctrine and behavior are products of each other (2:1–3).

Peter is particularly concerned that his readers not think that Jesus’ delay in appearing is proof that the apostolic witnesses were wrong (3:3–4). Jesus has not returned because were he to do so, it would end all opportunity for unbelievers to hear the gospel and be saved (3:9). God is gracious and long-suffering and is calling his people to reflect his character by giving people the opportunity to be saved. His patience is salvation (3:15). The gospel mission, then, provides the second motivation for the believer to practice the faith (3:11–16) and not waver.

Second Peter ends by challenging believers to constantly grow in the knowledge and grace of Christ (3:17–18).

The safety and endurance of a Christian’s salvation. Theologians over the centuries have debated whether salvation can be lost, but several lines of argument taken from Scripture support the teaching that salvation by its very nature is eternal.

Election and Grace

Passages on divine election reveal that those who come to faith do so not merely out of personal choice, but ultimately because they have been chosen by God (Eph. 1:4). God draws those whom he chooses, and they respond to his call (John 6:37, 44, 65). If genuine believers could lose their salvation, it would imply that God’s purpose and plan in election had been ineffective, an idea that contradicts Scripture (John 6:39).

The apostle Paul maintains that salvation is bestowed by God as a gift of his grace (Rom. 3:24; 6:23; Eph. 1:7; 2:8–9). This free gift cannot be merited or earned. It is not granted or withheld on the basis of a person’s moral character, no matter how noble or wicked, and it is never merited or forfeited through anything a person does, no matter how good or evil. Rather, it is granted due to something that lies within the nature of God—his gracious character, his purpose, and his free choice. Salvation endures due to the same perfections in God that cannot change (Mal. 3:6; James 1:17). Although salvation is bestowed as a matter of God’s grace, faith is the means by which it is received (Rom. 3:21–25). Yet faith is not a work and is never said to earn God’s grace (Eph. 2:8). Good works are the evidence of a life that has experienced the grace of God.

Rebirth and Eternal Life

Scripture reveals that salvation is imparted through regeneration or rebirth. Jesus describes it as being “born again” (John 3:3, 7). Paul uses a related concept when he writes that we are saved “through the washing of rebirth” (Titus 3:5). Peter teaches essentially the same thing: “He has given us new birth” (1 Pet. 1:3). The life that is imparted is “eternal” (John 3:16; 10:28; 17:2; Rom. 6:23). Paul maintains that God’s gifts and call are irrevocable (Rom. 11:29). Thus, there is no notion in the Scriptures that a regenerated follower of Christ ever becomes unregenerate, nor does eternal life ever morph into something temporal. In praying to the Father, Jesus notes that believers are a gift from the Father to the Son, and that none of them would be lost (John 17:2, 12). Judas Iscariot’s perdition clearly was part of God’s sovereign plan (John 17:12; Acts 1:16).

Protection of the Believer

The Holy Spirit is said to seal or be the seal of believers. Paul writes, “When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit” (Eph. 1:13). This refers to the divine ownership and protection granted to the believer, who has been given “the Spirit as a deposit,” guaranteeing that God will finish the work that he began (2 Cor. 5:5; Phil. 1:6). Jesus taught the same truth regarding the believer’s security: “No one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand” (John 10:28–29). Peter maintained this same confidence when he wrote that the believer is shielded through faith “by God’s power” (1 Pet. 1:5). One of the strongest arguments for the security of the believer is found in Rom. 8:38–39: “Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Something greater than God would be needed to wrestle salvation from those to whom he has granted it.

Not all Christians believe that the Bible teaches eternal security, citing passages that seem to imply that a saved individual can again become lost and suffer eternal judgment, most likely referring to the severe yet temporal discipline of God directed toward his erring children or toward those who depart from the faith because they were merely professing believers (Matt. 13:20–21, 24–30; John 15:6; 1 Cor. 11:30–32; 2 Cor. 11:13–15; 2 Tim. 4:10, 14; Heb. 6:4–9; 10:26–31; 2 Pet. 2:1, 22; 1 John 2:19; 5:16; 2 John 9; Rev. 2:5, 16). But those who defend the doctrine believe these passages do not contradict this teaching; they merely reveal that God purposes to accomplish this work with the cooperation of the believer (1 John 5:4; Rev. 2:7, 11, 17, 26; 3:5, 12, 21).

The writer to the Hebrews, who lays down some of the most severe warnings in the NT, nevertheless maintains that God is “able for all time to save,” and that his readers did not belong to those who “shrink back and so are lost” (Heb. 7:25; 10:39 NRSV). Jude asserts that God is able to present the believer “without fault” before his presence (Jude 24). Essentially, this is what Jesus says in John 10:28–29: “They shall never perish” (cf. 17:12). The loss of one sheep would impugn the power and character of God, who not only saves by grace but also keeps us by his grace and in his grace (Rom. 5:2).

Simon Peter is the best-known and the most colorful of Jesus’ twelve disciples. The name “Peter” means “rock” in Greek. In some biblical texts, he is also called “Cephas,” which is the Aramaic word for “rock” (see esp. John 1:42). Despite the ups and downs of Peter’s spiritual life, God was able to use him as the foundational apostle for the establishment of the NT church. Peter first met Jesus immediately after Jesus’ baptism, when Peter’s brother, Andrew, heard John the Baptist’s identification of Jesus as the Lamb of God (John 1:35). In classic missionary style, “the first thing Andrew did was to find his brother Simon and tell him, ‘We have found the Messiah’ ” (John 1:41). Peter’s official call to ministry took place later, when he was fishing on the Sea of Galilee and Jesus issued the well-known invitation “Come, follow me, . . . and I will send you out to fish for people” (Matt. 4:19).

Peter was the chief spokesman for the disciples at Caesarea Philippi when Jesus asked them, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” (Matt. 16:13). Peter responded, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God,” an insight given him by God the Father (16:16–17). Jesus promised him, “I tell you that you are Peter [petros], and on this rock [petra] I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it” (16:18). Yet Peter almost immediately became a “stumbling block” to Jesus when he chided Jesus for saying that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things and be killed (16:21–22). Another major failure by Peter came with his threefold denial of Jesus after Jesus had warned him, “This very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times” (Matt. 26:34). Fortunately, there were tears of repentance, and Peter was forgiven and restored after Jesus’ threefold question (“Do you love me?” [John 21:15–19]).

Jesus’ death and resurrection, as well as the giving of the Holy Spirit on the day of Pentecost, had stabilizing effects on Peter. After Jesus’ ascension, Peter exercised primary leadership among the other disciples during the upper room prayer meetings and the choosing of the replacement for Judas (Acts 1). Peter clearly was the public spokesman for the apostles on the day of Pentecost and a key player in the establishment of the church in Jerusalem (Acts 2–5), in receiving the first Samaritan converts (Acts 8:14–25), and in receiving Cornelius as the first Gentile convert (Acts 10–11). Following Peter’s miraculous deliverance from prison in Acts 12, he essentially disappears from recorded history. By the time of the Jerusalem council (Acts 15), Peter reappeared briefly, but by this time he had been replaced by James as the leader of the Jerusalem church. Peter apparently continued to live as a missionary (1 Cor. 9:5), specifically “to the circumcised” (Gal. 2:7–8), for the rest of his life. Yet Peter was still human, and on one occasion Paul gave him a stinging rebuke (Gal. 2:11–21).

During his travels, Peter undoubtedly visited the recipients of his later letter 1 Peter (and possibly 2 Peter) in north central Asia Minor (the regions of “Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia” [1 Pet. 1:1]), possibly Corinth (1 Cor. 1:12; 3:22), and, at least by the end of his life, Rome itself. According to tradition, he was put to death by Nero between AD 64 and 68, apparently by being crucified upside down (cf. John 21:18–19). Peter’s life is a vivid illustration of the Christian’s fight for faith, God’s gracious provision, and Jesus’ intercession on his behalf (“I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail” [Luke 22:32]).

In English, a distinction between the words “temptation,” “test,” and “trial” (or “tribulation”) seems apparent. However, the biblical Greek noun peirasmos and verb peirazō translate these nouns and their related verbs, leaving context alone to determine meaning. In the understanding of the Scripture, temptation relates directly to test and trial.

Negatively, English Bibles choose “temptation” and “tempt” as the fitting translation for peirasmos and peirazō respectively. The devil, or Satan, is the origin; the purpose is to encourage sin and devastate human relationship with God (Matt. 4:1 pars.; 1 Cor. 7:5; Gal. 6:1; 1 Tim. 6:9; James 1:13). Satan personifies this purpose as the tempter (Matt. 4:3; 1 Thess. 3:5).

Positively, the English word “test” seems fitting. God tests his people to reveal the quality of their faith commitment (Gen. 22:1; Exod. 15:25; Judg. 2:22; Gal. 4:14). When God tests his enemies, it results in a hardening of their hearts (Exod. 14:4). When God tests his own people, it may look like judgment (Isa. 6:9–10; cf. Mark 6:52; Heb. 3:8; 4:7). The NT sees a direct link between the words peirazō and dokimazō (“to test, prove, approve”) and uses one to explain the other (2 Cor. 13:5–7; James 1:2–3, 12).

Neutrally, “trial” (or “tribulation”) translates the meaning. People may face trials in their Christian walk (Acts 20:19; 2 Cor. 8:2; James 1:2, 12; 1 Pet. 1:6) that may or may not lead to sin (Matt. 26:41; cf. Dan. 12:10). The sixth petition of the Lord’s Prayer (Matt. 6:13 // Luke 11:4) presupposes the understanding that God is sovereign over all human circumstances and therefore has the power to protect from trials that may lead to temptation and fall. Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane follows the same supposition (Mark 14:38).

This interconnectedness in the biblical understanding between temptation, test, and trial helps to explain some inherently difficult texts. There can be no sharp distinction made between temptation and test; God may use someone’s tribulation as a test to affirm faith, while Satan uses the same as an avenue for temptation to commit sin. A prime OT example of such interconnectedness is the parallel texts in 2 Samuel and 1 Chronicles that describe David as both tested by God (2 Sam. 24:1) and tempted by Satan (1 Chron. 21:1) in regard to taking a census of Israel.

When humans tempt/test God, they provoke him to prove his power (Exod. 17:1–7) by acting as if he does not exist (Ps. 14:1). God’s firm prohibition against this (Deut. 6:13–16) exposes it as a violation of his relationship with humans (Matt. 4:7; Acts 5:9; 15:10).

In English, a distinction between the words “temptation,” “test,” and “trial” (or “tribulation”) seems apparent. However, the biblical Greek noun peirasmos and verb peirazō translate these nouns and their related verbs, leaving context alone to determine meaning. In the understanding of the Scripture, temptation relates directly to test and trial.

Negatively, English Bibles choose “temptation” and “tempt” as the fitting translation for peirasmos and peirazō respectively. The devil, or Satan, is the origin; the purpose is to encourage sin and devastate human relationship with God (Matt. 4:1 pars.; 1 Cor. 7:5; Gal. 6:1; 1 Tim. 6:9; James 1:13). Satan personifies this purpose as the tempter (Matt. 4:3; 1 Thess. 3:5).

Positively, the English word “test” seems fitting. God tests his people to reveal the quality of their faith commitment (Gen. 22:1; Exod. 15:25; Judg. 2:22; Gal. 4:14). When God tests his enemies, it results in a hardening of their hearts (Exod. 14:4). When God tests his own people, it may look like judgment (Isa. 6:9–10; cf. Mark 6:52; Heb. 3:8; 4:7). The NT sees a direct link between the words peirazō and dokimazō (“to test, prove, approve”) and uses one to explain the other (2 Cor. 13:5–7; James 1:2–3, 12).

Neutrally, “trial” (or “tribulation”) translates the meaning. People may face trials in their Christian walk (Acts 20:19; 2 Cor. 8:2; James 1:2, 12; 1 Pet. 1:6) that may or may not lead to sin (Matt. 26:41; cf. Dan. 12:10). The sixth petition of the Lord’s Prayer (Matt. 6:13 // Luke 11:4) presupposes the understanding that God is sovereign over all human circumstances and therefore has the power to protect from trials that may lead to temptation and fall. Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane follows the same supposition (Mark 14:38).

This interconnectedness in the biblical understanding between temptation, test, and trial helps to explain some inherently difficult texts. There can be no sharp distinction made between temptation and test; God may use someone’s tribulation as a test to affirm faith, while Satan uses the same as an avenue for temptation to commit sin. A prime OT example of such interconnectedness is the parallel texts in 2 Samuel and 1 Chronicles that describe David as both tested by God (2 Sam. 24:1) and tempted by Satan (1 Chron. 21:1) in regard to taking a census of Israel.

When humans tempt/test God, they provoke him to prove his power (Exod. 17:1–7) by acting as if he does not exist (Ps. 14:1). God’s firm prohibition against this (Deut. 6:13–16) exposes it as a violation of his relationship with humans (Matt. 4:7; Acts 5:9; 15:10).

In English, a distinction between the words “temptation,” “test,” and “trial” (or “tribulation”) seems apparent. However, the biblical Greek noun peirasmos and verb peirazō translate these nouns and their related verbs, leaving context alone to determine meaning. In the understanding of the Scripture, temptation relates directly to test and trial.

Negatively, English Bibles choose “temptation” and “tempt” as the fitting translation for peirasmos and peirazō respectively. The devil, or Satan, is the origin; the purpose is to encourage sin and devastate human relationship with God (Matt. 4:1 pars.; 1 Cor. 7:5; Gal. 6:1; 1 Tim. 6:9; James 1:13). Satan personifies this purpose as the tempter (Matt. 4:3; 1 Thess. 3:5).

Positively, the English word “test” seems fitting. God tests his people to reveal the quality of their faith commitment (Gen. 22:1; Exod. 15:25; Judg. 2:22; Gal. 4:14). When God tests his enemies, it results in a hardening of their hearts (Exod. 14:4). When God tests his own people, it may look like judgment (Isa. 6:9–10; cf. Mark 6:52; Heb. 3:8; 4:7). The NT sees a direct link between the words peirazō and dokimazō (“to test, prove, approve”) and uses one to explain the other (2 Cor. 13:5–7; James 1:2–3, 12).

Neutrally, “trial” (or “tribulation”) translates the meaning. People may face trials in their Christian walk (Acts 20:19; 2 Cor. 8:2; James 1:2, 12; 1 Pet. 1:6) that may or may not lead to sin (Matt. 26:41; cf. Dan. 12:10). The sixth petition of the Lord’s Prayer (Matt. 6:13 // Luke 11:4) presupposes the understanding that God is sovereign over all human circumstances and therefore has the power to protect from trials that may lead to temptation and fall. Jesus’ prayer in Gethsemane follows the same supposition (Mark 14:38).

This interconnectedness in the biblical understanding between temptation, test, and trial helps to explain some inherently difficult texts. There can be no sharp distinction made between temptation and test; God may use someone’s tribulation as a test to affirm faith, while Satan uses the same as an avenue for temptation to commit sin. A prime OT example of such interconnectedness is the parallel texts in 2 Samuel and 1 Chronicles that describe David as both tested by God (2 Sam. 24:1) and tempted by Satan (1 Chron. 21:1) in regard to taking a census of Israel.

When humans tempt/test God, they provoke him to prove his power (Exod. 17:1–7) by acting as if he does not exist (Ps. 14:1). God’s firm prohibition against this (Deut. 6:13–16) exposes it as a violation of his relationship with humans (Matt. 4:7; Acts 5:9; 15:10).

A title designating members of the group of twelve disciples (Matt. 10:2–4; Mark 3:16–19; Luke 6:13–16) who received Jesus’ teaching (Luke 17:5) and to whom he granted authority (Mark 6:7, 30; Luke 9:1, 10). Matthias later replaced Judas Iscariot (Acts 1:24). These apostles provided leadership to the early church in Jerusalem (Acts 15:6), performed miracles (Acts 2:43; 2 Cor. 12:12), and faced persecution (Acts 5:18) as they testified to Jesus’ resurrection (Acts 4:33; 5:32). Broader usage of the term includes witnesses to Jesus’ resurrection (1 Cor. 15:7), James the brother of Jesus (Gal. 1:19), Barnabas and Paul (Acts 14:14), and possibly Silas (1 Thess. 2:6) and Andronicus and Junias/Junia (Rom. 16:7). Paul regularly speaks of his calling in apostolic terms (Rom. 1:1; 1 Cor. 1:1; 2 Cor. 1:1; Gal. 1:1; Eph. 1:1; Col. 1:1; 1 Tim. 1:1; 2 Tim. 1:1; Titus 1:1), while Peter similarly self-identifies (1 Pet. 1:1; 2 Pet. 1:1). The word is once used of Jesus himself (Heb. 3:1).

The biblical writers proclaim that only one God exists, yet they also refer to three persons as “God.” The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are all God. Furthermore, these three persons relate to one another as self-conscious individuals. Jesus prays to the Father (John 17). The Father speaks from heaven concerning the Son (Matt. 3:17; Luke 3:22). Jesus vows to send the Spirit as “Advocate” after his ascension, and he will do what Jesus himself did while he was among us (John 16:7–8). The challenge of Christian theology, therefore, is to formulate a doctrine of God that captures all these elements, each of which surfaces in both Testaments.

Old Testament

In the OT, evidence for the Trinity appears mostly at the implicit level. Yahweh is called “Father” in Isaiah (63:16; 64:8), Jeremiah (3:4, 19; 31:9), and Malachi (2:10). Isaiah declares, “But you are our Father, though Abraham does not know us or Israel acknowledge us; you, Lord, are our Father, our Redeemer from of old is your name” (Isa. 63:16). Yahweh identifies himself as “Father” implicitly when he claims Israel as his “son” (Hos. 11:1), and the same principle applies to Ps. 2:7, where God declares to his anointed, “You are my son; today I have become your father.” These cases do not compare in numbers with the NT evidence, but a person thought of as “God the Father” certainly appears in the OT.

Messianic texts of the OT introduce us to God the Son. In Isa. 9:6 a “child is born” who will be called “Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” The day of “Immanuel,” or “God with us,” is foreshadowed in Isa. 7:14 (cf. Matt. 1:22), while Isa. 40:3–5 anticipates the appearance of the Lord “in the wilderness” (cf. Matt. 3:3). Daniel sees “one like a son of man, coming with the clouds of heaven” being given “authority, glory and sovereign power” (Dan. 7:13–14). In Ps. 110:1 Yahweh says to David’s “Lord,” “Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.”

Similarly, the OT seems to distinguish the Spirit of God from Yahweh while implying the Spirit’s own personality. Genesis 1:2 makes that case, as does Exod. 31:3, where Yahweh fills Bezalel with the “Spirit of God” (cf. Exod. 35:31; Num. 11:29). In 1 Sam. 16:14 a contrast is made between the “Spirit of the Lord” that leaves Saul and an “evil spirit from the Lord” that torments him; also we find a repentant David pleading that God would not take away his “Holy Spirit” (Ps. 51:11). The Spirit can be put on persons by God, with the result that they prophesy (Isa. 61:1; Joel 2:28–29) and do what pleases him (Ezek. 36:26–27). In the OT, therefore, we see two persons (the Son and the Holy Spirit) who are both God and also distinguishable from one to whom they answer and by whom they are sent.

New Testament

The NT contains abundant evidence for “God the Father,” often because of Jesus’ teaching. The “Father” appears several times in the Sermon on the Mount (e.g., Matt. 5:16; 6:6–9, 14, 18, 26, 32; 7:11). Matthew 7:21 stands out because of Jesus’ reference to “my Father who is in heaven,” by which he identifies himself as the Son (see also Matt. 15:13; 16:17; 18:10; and Luke 24:49). Paul’s greetings normally come from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, as seen in Rom. 1:7: “Grace and peace to you from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ” (also 1 Cor. 1:3; 2 Cor. 1:2; Gal. 1:1–3; 1 Tim. 1:2; 2 Tim. 1:2). Paul introduces the Father and the Son in 1 Cor. 8:6: “For us there is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live; and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came and through whom we live” (see also 1 Cor. 15:24; 2 Cor. 11:31; Eph. 1:3; Phil. 2:22). Other significant texts include Heb. 1:5; 1 Pet. 1:2–3; in the latter, the scattered believers are those “who have been chosen according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, through the sanctifying work of the Spirit, to be obedient to Jesus Christ and sprinkled with his blood. . . . Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!” The NT evidence for “God the Father” is clear.

Biblical texts that point to the deity of Christ supply evidence for the second claim: the Son is God. Some of the texts listed above say as much, but one can take this case further. In context, John’s prologue refers to Jesus as the “Word” and proclaims that he was “with God” and “was God” (John 1:1). Jesus also relates to the Father in ways that imply his own deity, as he declares in John 10:30, “I and the Father are one.” After significant doubting, Thomas confesses the deity of Christ in John 20:28: “My Lord and my God!” NT passages that identify Jesus as the “Son of God” point to his deity, as Peter does in Matt. 16:16: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” Even demons identify Jesus as the Son. They call out, “What do you want with us, Son of God? . . . Have you come here to torture us before the appointed time?” (Matt. 8:29; cf. Mark 5:7). The so-called Christ Hymn of Phil. 2:6–11 puts Jesus on the level with God, saying that he did not consider “equality with God something to be used to his own advantage.” The author of Hebrews declares that Jesus is “the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being” (1:3). Colossians 1:15–16 says that Jesus is the “image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation” and the one by whom “all things were created,” and Col. 1:19 states that “God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him.” According to Titus 2:13, Jesus is “our great God and Savior.” The entire sequence of Rev. 4–5 highlights the deity of Christ, culminating in the praise “To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praise and honor and glory and power, for ever and ever!” as both the Enthroned One and the Lamb are worshiped as God (5:13–14).

The NT writers underscore both the deity and the distinctive personality of the Holy Spirit. Jesus is conceived in Mary’s womb by the Spirit’s power (Matt. 1:18–20), and when Jesus is baptized, the Spirit descends upon him as a dove (Matt. 3:16; Mark 1:10). Jesus drives out demons by the Spirit, and one dare not speak against the Spirit when he does so (Matt. 12:28–32). Luke’s Gospel puts added emphasis on the ministry of the Spirit, as we also see in Acts. He empowers various people to praise and prophesy (Luke 1:41, 67) and to be witnesses for Christ (Acts 1:8; 2:4, 17–18, 38). Sinners can lie to the Holy Spirit (Acts 5:3, 9), and the Holy Spirit bears witness along with the apostles to the risen Christ (5:32). In John’s Gospel, the Spirit becomes the counselor and teacher of the disciples, reminding them of their Lord’s instructions (John 14:26; 16:13). The Spirit brings assurance of sonship (Rom. 8:16) and helps disciples when they pray (8:26). This person even knows the very thoughts of God (1 Cor. 2:11). Accordingly, the Great Commission requires baptism in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit (Matt. 28:19). All three members of the Trinity have a part in the advancement of the kingdom, the Spirit no less than the Father and the Son.

Relationships between Father, Son, and Spirit

The evidence considered thus far demonstrates that three persons are called “God” in Scripture: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. But the Scriptures also point to a chain of command in their relationship to one another. The Son obeys the Father, and the Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son to apply the work of the cross to the church. This “functional subordination” of the Son to the Father, some might argue, would follow simply from the analogy chosen by God to reveal himself to us. The “Son” would obey his “Father,” not vice versa, though they share a common dignity as God, just as a human father and son share a common humanity. But the NT writers expressly tell us that they relate to each other in this way. In Matt. 11:27 (cf. Luke 10:22) Jesus announces, “All things have been committed to me by my Father” (cf. John 3:35; 5:22). The latter transfers authority to the former as his subordinate. The Father even (for a season) knows more than the Son regarding the last days: “About that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (Matt. 24:36), though he also dignifies the Son: “For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does” (John 5:20). The Son’s commitment to please his heavenly Father is a prominent theme of the NT, as Jesus declares in John 5:19: “The Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does.” No text brings out this dependence of the Son upon the Father more clearly than Heb. 5:7–8, where the Son is said to have “offered up prayers and petitions with fervent cries and tears to the one who could save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission. Son though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered.” It is debated by theologians whether this functional subordination relates only to the period of the Son’s earthly ministry, or whether it is an eternal subordination.

The Spirit, though equal in personality and dignity with the Father and the Son, proceeds from them to apply the work of the cross and empower the church for ministry. In John 14:26 Jesus says, “The Advocate, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you all things and will remind you of everything I have said to you.” In John 15:26 Jesus announces that he also sends the Spirit out: “When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father—the Spirit of truth who goes out from the Father—he will testify about me.” The Spirit only conveys what he has received: “He will not speak on his own; he will speak only what he hears, and he will tell you what is yet to come” (John 16:13). The same “chain of command” appears in John 16:15, where Jesus says, “All that belongs to the Father is mine. That is why I said the Spirit will receive from me what he will make known to you.”

Trinitarian Heresies

The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are God, while being distinguishable persons. The Son obeys the Father; and these two persons of the Trinity send out the Holy Spirit to implement our deliverance from sin. A defensible explanation of the Trinity will respect all these dynamics, taking special care not to illustrate them with misleading images or simply lapse into various forms of polytheism. One of the earliest heresies of the church came from Marcion, a second-century theologian who distinguished the Father of Jesus from the supposedly vindictive God of the OT, which leaves us with more than one God. Later came the heresies of modalism and subordinationism (or Arianism). Modalists claimed that the persons of the Trinity are no more than guises worn by the one person of God. One minute God is the Father, the next he is the Son or the Holy Spirit. Subordinationists such as Arius (died AD 336) went beyond the functionality of the NT’s chain of command, arguing that the Son and the Holy Spirit are not themselves God but are essentially subordinate to him. Jehovah’s Witnesses have fallen into this latter error, suggesting that Jesus is “a god” but not the Creator God.

These early heresies pressed the church to refine its understanding of the Trinity. In his response to Marcion’s error, Tertullian coined precise language to describe the persons of the Godhead, so that God’s “threeness” and “oneness” are preserved. He used the Latin term trinitas to describe the Christian God and argued that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit share the same “substance.” The Son (also, then, the Holy Spirit) is not simply of “like substance” (Gk. homoiousios) with God the Father, but rather is “consubstantial” (Gk. homoousios) with him: the Son is God, and so is the Holy Spirit. The Nicene Creed of AD 325 incorporated this explanation and, in so doing, also set aside the idea that either the Son or the Holy Spirit was created by God, as the Arian heresy requires. Nicaea also rejected adoptionism, which regards Jesus as a man whom God promoted by endowing him with supernatural powers.

Each of these heresies—plus, say, the strict monotheism of Islam—attempts to relieve the tension seen among the claims that constitute the Trinity; however, orthodox Christians will remember that tensions and paradoxes are not automatic contradictions. No philosopher or theologian has ever expressly demonstrated that the Trinity entails logical nonsense, and Christianity’s detractors carry the burden of proof in this case. It is one thing to allege that an idea is contradictory, and quite another thing to show with an argument that it is so. On the positive side, the Trinity must remain a central doctrine of the church because it affects all the others, especially the entire work of redemption. If God is not triune, then Jesus is not God; and if he is not God, then he cannot save us, nor can we worship him as our Lord. The sacrifice that he offers for our sin would not, in that case, be supremely valuable. Consider also the application to us of what Christ has done. If the Holy Spirit is not God, then he cannot speak for God as one who knows perfectly his thoughts and gives us the word of God, our Bible. Scripture indicates that God is triune, and sinners need him to be so.