An ambassador is the official representative of a king or government outside the realm of that ruler. In terms of the underlying Hebrew and Greek vocabulary, the concept of ambassador in the Bible largely overlaps with that of messenger, for which there are several biblical terms. In other words, ambassadors (in the modern sense) are not easily distinguished from the numerous biblical messengers in terms of vocabulary alone. However, several biblical narratives involve royal or government messengers operating in an official capacity, on behalf of Moses (Num. 20:14), Judah (Ezek. 17:15), Babylon (2 Chron. 32:31), and Egypt (2 Chron. 35:21; Isa. 30:4). Several of these ambassadors were charged with forging a treaty with a foreign power.

Paul twice describes his own evangelistic ministry as an embassy on behalf of God. In 2 Cor. 5:20 he describes himself as one of “Christ’s ambassadors,” and in Eph. 6:20 paradoxically as an “ambassador in chains,” referring to his incarceration.

An innate awareness of wrong, with an inclination toward thinking and acting rightly. The OT describes moral awareness as a willingness to obey God’s revealed will (Deut. 30:14; Ps. 1:1–2; Prov. 1:7). People are not presented as morally perfect, but, to the degree of their knowledge, they are expected to act rightly (Gen. 4:1–16; 1 Sam. 25:31). Abimelek, king of Gerar, appeals to ignorance because of Abraham’s deception (Gen. 20:1–7). Job appeals to the purity of his conscience (Job 27:6).

A fuller revelation of God’s will is given in the Mosaic law. God gives commandments in part to heighten the Israelites’ awareness concerning right and wrong, so that with their obedience they might enjoy a covenant relationship within God’s holy presence (e.g., Deut. 28:1–14). This informed social conscience was intended to curb evil behavior (Gal. 3:19). The author of Judges anticipates the need for the law by complaining that “everyone did as they saw fit” (17:6; 21:25).

However, the biblical narrative also makes room for paradoxical situations and competing values, which complicate moral reasoning (e.g., Gen. 38; Judg. 11:29–40). In the law, God expressly forbids child sacrifice, but he commands Abraham to present his son Isaac as a burnt offering (Gen. 22:1–14). On a rooftop Peter receives a vision in which the Lord commands him to kill and eat unclean animals (Acts 10:1–8). In both cases, God tests faith by commanding the believer to betray personal conscience, to open his heart to a fuller revelation of the divine plan. Even the moral reasoning of God is not always straightforward. God is committed to doing right, but he also weighs decisions with compassion and mercy. Abraham and Moses appeal to God’s character, and they are able to intercede on behalf of sinful people (Gen. 18:22–33; Exod. 32). Jonah even comes to despise this quality of God’s character, which appears to compromise justice (4:1–11).

These tensions anticipate the gospel, which claims that God loves sinners and has provided a means to express mercy toward them without compromising justice (Rom. 3:21–26). Like the Mosaic law, the gospel also provides further revelation into God’s will and therefore a more informed conscience. With citations drawn from throughout the OT, Paul claims that all people suffer from a distorted conscience (Rom. 3:9–20). God has spoken to all people through their conscience, but despite this innate awareness of right and wrong, both Jews, who possess God’s commandments, and non-Jews, who know something about God from nature (creation), have compromised their own ethical stance, so that they have only themselves to blame (1:18–32). This universal inner conflict, emphasized by Jesus and Paul, removes appealing to one’s conscience as a means of justification at the future judgment (Mark 7:1–23; Luke 13:1–5, 22–30). Furthermore, this habitual compromising leads to present self-deception and a skewed perception of the world.

But through repentance and faith in the gospel, returning to God (the Creator), a person’s conscience may be renewed and aligned with the mind and actions of Jesus Christ (Rom. 12:1–2; 1 Cor. 2:16). Despite this restoration, the complexity of moral reasoning is not always overcome. Indeed, living in Christ with others from different cultural backgrounds and values often requires deeper reflection. Paul acknowledges that there can be different perceptions by believers, which can lead to different practices. Eating meat that may have been sacrificed to idols is neutral or wrong depending upon one’s conscience and that of the observer (1 Cor. 8:1–3). He applies the same perspective to Jewish calendar observance and food laws (Rom. 14:1–23; but see Gal. 4:8–11). But the apostle also presumes that personal conscience can grow in knowledge. Ultimately, believers’ consciences should be informed by relating everything to the lordship of Christ (Rom. 2:15; 9:1; 2 Cor. 1:12; 4:2; 5:11), meditating on the goodness of all creation (Titus 1:10–16), and placing the well-being of others before their own (Phil. 2:1–11).

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.

Origins, Composition, and Constitution

Origins. The Bible is not unique in offering an account of human origins. Interesting accounts are found in Sumerian (Enki and Ninmah, Hymn to E-engurra), Akkadian (Atrahasis Epic, Enuma Elish), and Egyptian texts (Pyramid Texts, Instruction of Merikare). These texts provide a helpful window into the biblical world and show the common concern to explain the origin and role of humanity in the world.

One distinct feature of ancient Near Eastern texts is that they generally speak of human origins in a collective sense. Specialists refer to this phenomenon as polygenesis. Such a collective creation better serves the purpose of the gods, who have made the human race as a labor force. In the Bible, however, the book of Genesis describes an original human pair who are the progenitors of the human race. This phenomenon is referred to as monogenesis. Humanity is not merely created to serve and do the work of the gods. Instead, it is a special creation of God, intended to bear his image.

Composition. The composition of humanity is described in Gen. 2:7: “The Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” Humanity is not distinct from animals in having the breath of life (1:30). Indeed, the description of the composition of humanity is also quite, well, human. Genesis describes humans as made from the dust. Dust is not fertile, nor is it pliable. It refers to the earth and that which is dead. The wordplay between “man” (’adam) and the “ground” (’adamah) appears to be a major focus of the text (2:7) and suggests that the major connection being established concerns the first humans as archetypes.

Constitution. Certain passages of Scripture have led interpreters to posit a trichotomous nature of humanity (i.e., mind, body, soul; cf. 2 Cor. 4:16; 5:1–9; 1 Thess. 5:23). Likewise, even though the Greek language can bifurcate the soul (psychē) and the body (sōma), a kind of dualism should not be inferred from this (cf. Matt. 6:25; 27:50; Luke 10:27; 2 Cor. 4:11). Either approach is foreign to the unified biblical mind-set. The only dualism in the anthropological perspective of the NT is in the nature of humanity in relation to Christ’s new creative work.

Form and Function

Form: male and female. Just as God created man (’ish), he also created woman (’ishah) (Gen. 1:26–27). Although woman is initially created as a “suitable helper” (2:18), it should be noted that the underlying Hebrew term (’ezer) is used almost exclusively in reference to God elsewhere. This suggests that “suitable helper” does not indicate a difference of essence, value, or status.

The Bible describes woman as coming from the “side” of man, probably communicating something about their equality (Gen. 2:21–22). Thus, it should be understood that just as all humanity shares a connection to the ground, so also a man shares an intimate connection with a woman. Although the phrase “one flesh” often is taken as a euphemism, it probably is a remarkably descriptive statement of the archetypal nature of Adam and Eve (cf. 2:24).

Function: image of God. The distinction between humanity and the other animals created by God is that humans are created in God’s image. The concept of the image of God, however, is not unique to the biblical text (Gen. 1:26–27; cf. Instruction of Merikare). Throughout the ancient Near East, kings were thought to actually be the image of a god. In the Christian understanding, only Christ is the image of God (2 Cor. 4:4), whereas humanity is created in the image of God. Although this may imply a kingly role with regard to humanity’s function over the rest of creation, the main parallel should be seen in how images are meant to represent a god’s presence.

Humanity in Pauline Thought

Paul’s conception of humanity is thoroughly eschatological insomuch as his vision of Christ as the image of God is identified with Christ as “risen Lord.” Christ as the image of God is the final destiny of the humanity that is “in Christ” (1 Cor. 15:23–28; 44–49; Eph. 1:9–10). Because of the effects of sin, creation has been subjected to futility (Rom. 8:19–22), and humanity to death (Rom. 5:12–14; 1 Cor. 15:21–22). Yet Paul’s outburst of “new creation” (Gal. 6:15; cf. 2 Cor. 5:17) indicates his understanding of the cosmological, and therefore anthropological, effects of being united with Christ. Indeed, if God is making the “former things” into “new things” (2 Cor. 5:17; cf. Isa. 65:17–19), this new creative act certainly impacts humanity. That reality is already partially realized in the elimination of distinctions in this present “evil age” (Gal. 1:4), for in Christ “there is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one” (Gal. 3:28; cf. 1 Cor. 12:12–13; Gen. 17). Until the end, the Christian lives in the tension of already beginning to experience the act of new creation and not yet completely disinheriting the effects of sin (Rom. 8:18–30; 2 Cor. 12:5–10).

The word “impute” means “to think of, regard, reckon, or credit something to someone that comes from another.” The language comes from the business world, where records are kept indicating credits and debits to a person’s account. This nontheological sense of imputation is found in Philem. 18–19, where Paul tells Philemon that if his slave Onesimus, who apparently had stolen from his master before running away, owes Philemon anything, “Charge it to me.” But the dominant use of imputation in the Bible is with reference to sin and righteousness.

Although imputation is most clearly taught in the NT, it is present in the OT as well. A prime example is the Day of Atonement ritual, in which Aaron lays his hands on the scapegoat and confesses the sins of the people before releasing it into the wilderness (Lev. 16:20–22). The act of laying his hands on the scapegoat imputes the sins of the people onto the goat.

In the NT, the clearest passages teaching imputation are found in Paul’s writings. Drawing upon Gen. 15:6 and Ps. 32:1–2, he asserts that God imputes righteousness to the believer apart from works (Rom. 4:1–8). Because of Adam’s rebellion, sin and guilt were imputed to all humankind, while at the same time Christ’s obedience is imputed to all his people (5:12–21). Paul summarizes the same idea elsewhere as follows: “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21). The believer’s sin is credited to Jesus, while Jesus’ righteousness is credited to the believer. In the account ledgers that determine a person’s standing in God’s court of law, God transfers to the believer the complete obedient righteousness of Jesus while at the same time transferring to Jesus the sinful rebellion of the believer. Imputation even extends beyond righteousness: Jesus “has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption” (1 Cor. 1:30).

Imputation makes it clear that salvation is entirely the work of God. It is only on the basis of Christ’s righteousness that the believer can be justified in God’s court of law. Far from being an abstract theological concept, it is the very basis upon which the believer relates to God.

The word “impute” means “to think of, regard, reckon, or credit something to someone that comes from another.” The language comes from the business world, where records are kept indicating credits and debits to a person’s account. This nontheological sense of imputation is found in Philem. 18–19, where Paul tells Philemon that if his slave Onesimus, who apparently had stolen from his master before running away, owes Philemon anything, “Charge it to me.” But the dominant use of imputation in the Bible is with reference to sin and righteousness.

Although imputation is most clearly taught in the NT, it is present in the OT as well. A prime example is the Day of Atonement ritual, in which Aaron lays his hands on the scapegoat and confesses the sins of the people before releasing it into the wilderness (Lev. 16:20–22). The act of laying his hands on the scapegoat imputes the sins of the people onto the goat.

In the NT, the clearest passages teaching imputation are found in Paul’s writings. Drawing upon Gen. 15:6 and Ps. 32:1–2, he asserts that God imputes righteousness to the believer apart from works (Rom. 4:1–8). Because of Adam’s rebellion, sin and guilt were imputed to all humankind, while at the same time Christ’s obedience is imputed to all his people (5:12–21). Paul summarizes the same idea elsewhere as follows: “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21). The believer’s sin is credited to Jesus, while Jesus’ righteousness is credited to the believer. In the account ledgers that determine a person’s standing in God’s court of law, God transfers to the believer the complete obedient righteousness of Jesus while at the same time transferring to Jesus the sinful rebellion of the believer. Imputation even extends beyond righteousness: Jesus “has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption” (1 Cor. 1:30).

Imputation makes it clear that salvation is entirely the work of God. It is only on the basis of Christ’s righteousness that the believer can be justified in God’s court of law. Far from being an abstract theological concept, it is the very basis upon which the believer relates to God.

Origins, Composition, and Constitution

Origins. The Bible is not unique in offering an account of human origins. Interesting accounts are found in Sumerian (Enki and Ninmah, Hymn to E-engurra), Akkadian (Atrahasis Epic, Enuma Elish), and Egyptian texts (Pyramid Texts, Instruction of Merikare). These texts provide a helpful window into the biblical world and show the common concern to explain the origin and role of humanity in the world.

One distinct feature of ancient Near Eastern texts is that they generally speak of human origins in a collective sense. Specialists refer to this phenomenon as polygenesis. Such a collective creation better serves the purpose of the gods, who have made the human race as a labor force. In the Bible, however, the book of Genesis describes an original human pair who are the progenitors of the human race. This phenomenon is referred to as monogenesis. Humanity is not merely created to serve and do the work of the gods. Instead, it is a special creation of God, intended to bear his image.

Composition. The composition of humanity is described in Gen. 2:7: “The Lord God formed a man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living being.” Humanity is not distinct from animals in having the breath of life (1:30). Indeed, the description of the composition of humanity is also quite, well, human. Genesis describes humans as made from the dust. Dust is not fertile, nor is it pliable. It refers to the earth and that which is dead. The wordplay between “man” (’adam) and the “ground” (’adamah) appears to be a major focus of the text (2:7) and suggests that the major connection being established concerns the first humans as archetypes.

Constitution. Certain passages of Scripture have led interpreters to posit a trichotomous nature of humanity (i.e., mind, body, soul; cf. 2 Cor. 4:16; 5:1–9; 1 Thess. 5:23). Likewise, even though the Greek language can bifurcate the soul (psychē) and the body (sōma), a kind of dualism should not be inferred from this (cf. Matt. 6:25; 27:50; Luke 10:27; 2 Cor. 4:11). Either approach is foreign to the unified biblical mind-set. The only dualism in the anthropological perspective of the NT is in the nature of humanity in relation to Christ’s new creative work.

Form and Function

Form: male and female. Just as God created man (’ish), he also created woman (’ishah) (Gen. 1:26–27). Although woman is initially created as a “suitable helper” (2:18), it should be noted that the underlying Hebrew term (’ezer) is used almost exclusively in reference to God elsewhere. This suggests that “suitable helper” does not indicate a difference of essence, value, or status.

The Bible describes woman as coming from the “side” of man, probably communicating something about their equality (Gen. 2:21–22). Thus, it should be understood that just as all humanity shares a connection to the ground, so also a man shares an intimate connection with a woman. Although the phrase “one flesh” often is taken as a euphemism, it probably is a remarkably descriptive statement of the archetypal nature of Adam and Eve (cf. 2:24).

Function: image of God. The distinction between humanity and the other animals created by God is that humans are created in God’s image. The concept of the image of God, however, is not unique to the biblical text (Gen. 1:26–27; cf. Instruction of Merikare). Throughout the ancient Near East, kings were thought to actually be the image of a god. In the Christian understanding, only Christ is the image of God (2 Cor. 4:4), whereas humanity is created in the image of God. Although this may imply a kingly role with regard to humanity’s function over the rest of creation, the main parallel should be seen in how images are meant to represent a god’s presence.

Humanity in Pauline Thought

Paul’s conception of humanity is thoroughly eschatological insomuch as his vision of Christ as the image of God is identified with Christ as “risen Lord.” Christ as the image of God is the final destiny of the humanity that is “in Christ” (1 Cor. 15:23–28; 44–49; Eph. 1:9–10). Because of the effects of sin, creation has been subjected to futility (Rom. 8:19–22), and humanity to death (Rom. 5:12–14; 1 Cor. 15:21–22). Yet Paul’s outburst of “new creation” (Gal. 6:15; cf. 2 Cor. 5:17) indicates his understanding of the cosmological, and therefore anthropological, effects of being united with Christ. Indeed, if God is making the “former things” into “new things” (2 Cor. 5:17; cf. Isa. 65:17–19), this new creative act certainly impacts humanity. That reality is already partially realized in the elimination of distinctions in this present “evil age” (Gal. 1:4), for in Christ “there is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one” (Gal. 3:28; cf. 1 Cor. 12:12–13; Gen. 17). Until the end, the Christian lives in the tension of already beginning to experience the act of new creation and not yet completely disinheriting the effects of sin (Rom. 8:18–30; 2 Cor. 12:5–10).

“New” basically carries three senses in the Bible: (1) the beginning of a cycle of time such as the new moon, the beginning of the month; (2) fresh, pristine, or unused; (3) formerly unknown or recently coming into existence. Often, the latter two senses overlap and become difficult to distinguish. In certain cases the second sense is emphasized, and the actual age is not of primary concern: new grain (Lev. 23:16), new wine (Josh. 9:13), new ropes (Judg. 15:13), new cart (1 Sam. 6:7), new cloak (1 Kings 11:29), new bowl (2 Kings 2:20), and new tomb (Matt. 27:60). The third sense often is associated with the time of final restoration: God will do a new thing (Isa. 43:19), make a new covenant (Jer. 31:31), and create a new heavens and a new earth (Isa. 65:17).

The Bible places a high priority on the new works that God accomplishes, for there is little hope that people are capable of doing anything new (cf. Eccles. 1:9–10). These new works are contrasted with the old. There is continuity between them as the former establishes a foundation for the latter, but there is also discontinuity as the latter surpasses the former. Therefore, God will make a new (better) covenant (Jer. 31:31; Heb. 8:13), a new (better) heart (Ezek. 36:26), a new (better) creation (2 Cor. 5:17), and a new (better) heavens and earth (Isa. 65:17; Rev. 21:1).

The restoration of a relationship from a state of hostility to one of peace. As such, the concept is far more common than the number of specific references might suggest. The Bible speaks of reconciliation on three levels: (1) God and humanity; (2) human beings with one another; and (3) God and creation.

God and Humanity

The need for reconciliation between God and humanity begins when Adam and Eve rebel against God. What has been a relationship of intimate fellowship becomes one of fear and mistrust as Adam and Eve’s sin brings God’s judgment (Gen. 3:14–19). But in the midst of judgment is the cryptic promise of a descendant of the woman who will crush the serpent and end the estrangement between God and humanity (3:15). The rest of the OT gives glimpses of what reconciliation will be like. God gives the sacrificial system as a means to deal with sin and restore fellowship with him (Lev. 1–7; 16). Despite Israel’s sin, God pursues reconciliation with Israel like a husband chases after a wayward wife (Hos. 1–3). Israel’s hope for reconciliation is often expressed in terms of a desire for peace. Although Aaron’s benediction asks God to give peace to his people in the present (Num. 6:24–26), God’s people look forward to the day when a covenant of peace will be established through the Suffering Servant and announced to the ends of the earth (Isa. 52–54).

What is largely hinted at in the OT is stated explicitly in the NT. Paul in particular explains how believers are reconciled to God and the consequences of that reconciliation. God, not humanity, has taken the initiative. Even though we were sinners subject to God’s wrath, alienated from God and enemies in thought and act, Christ died for us (Rom. 5:6–11; Col. 1:21). As the last Adam, Christ has removed the barrier that our sinful rebellion had created between God and humanity by taking the punishment for our sin. Thus reconciliation is a gift that God offers to humanity (Rom. 5:11), not something that we do to appease God. Because God has reconciled us to himself through Christ, he has entrusted us with the ministry of reconciliation (2 Cor. 5:19). Using his people as ambassadors, God appeals to humanity to be reconciled through the work of Christ, whom, though sinless, God made sin for us “so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:20–21). God’s purpose in reconciliation is to present the believer “holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation” (Col. 1:22). The result of reconciliation is the joy that comes from being at peace with God (Rom. 5:1–2, 11). In view of this, Paul’s frequent greeting “grace and peace” in his letters takes on new light as his desire for believers to experience the reality of their reconciliation to God.

Human Beings with One Another

Reconciliation between God and humanity makes it possible for people truly to be reconciled to one another. Even the natural hostility between Jew and Gentile has been overcome by the work of Christ. Through the cross, Christ “destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of hostility, by setting aside in his flesh the law with its commands and regulations” (Eph. 2:14–15). As a result, Jew and Gentile have been brought together in one body as fellow citizens of God’s kingdom who stand on equal footing before God (Eph. 2:16–22).

As evidence of being reconciled to God, believers are called to pursue reconciliation with others: “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone” (Rom. 12:18). Pursuing reconciliation with others is so important that Jesus warns his followers that failure to do so can cause a rift in their own fellowship with God. That is why in the Lord’s Prayer God’s people are to pray, “Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us” (Luke 11:4). Since God has forgiven us for our rebellion against him, we ought to forgive others who have wronged us (Col. 3:13). Believers are even instructed to seek reconciliation with others before entering the presence of God (Matt. 5:23–24).

God and Creation

Drawing upon the prophetic hope of the OT, the NT also speaks of a cosmic reconciliation. Through Christ, God is pleased “to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross” (Col. 1:20). By this Paul does not mean the salvation of everyone, but rather that the reconciling work of Jesus is the means by which God restores the created order to peace. Whereas the first Adam’s sin brought a curse upon creation, Christ, as the last Adam, has brought peace that will culminate in new heavens and a new earth free from the effects of sin and death (Isa. 65:17; Rev. 21–22). It is there that God will dwell with his people forever in perfect harmony (Rev. 21:2–5).

To be in one’s right mind is to be sane. After Jesus exorcizes the demons called “Legion,” the formerly possessed man sits at Jesus’ feet, completely sane, no longer out of control (Mark 5:15; Luke 8:35). Paul uses the term (Gk. sōphroneō) to contrast sanity with insanity (2 Cor. 5:13).

Righteousness is an important theme in both Testaments of the Bible. The concept includes faithfulness, justice, uprightness, correctness, loyalty, blamelessness, purity, salvation, and innocence. Because the theme is related to justification, it has important implications for the doctrine of salvation (see also Justification).

Old Testament

Divine righteousness. Being careful to avoid imposing Western philosophical categories onto OT texts, we may say that the core idea of righteousness is conformity to God’s person and will in moral uprightness, justness, justice, integrity, and faithfulness. Behind the many and varied uses of righteousness language in the OT stands the presupposition that God himself is righteous in the ultimate sense (e.g., Ezra 9:15; Isa. 45:21; Zeph. 3:5). Righteousness is the expression of his holiness in relationship to others (Isa. 5:16), and all other nuances of righteousness in the biblical texts are derived from this. Either he reveals what is right or demonstrates rightness in his activity. God’s decrees and laws are righteous (Deut. 4:8; Ps. 119); his will is righteous (Deut. 33:21); his acts are righteous (Judg. 5:11; 1 Sam. 12:7; Ps. 71:24); his judgments are righteous (Ps. 7:11); and he always judges with righteousness (Ps. 96:13). In OT texts, divine righteousness is often linked to God’s saving activity, particularly in Psalms (e.g., Ps. 71) and in Isa. 40–66. Divine righteousness is much broader than deliberative justice (i.e., punishing the wicked and rewarding the righteous), though it does include it.

Human righteousness. Related to humans, righteousness is often found as the opposite of wickedness. Righteousness often occurs in evaluative contexts, where it relates to proper conduct with respect to God, the order of the world as he created it, the covenant, or law (e.g., Deut. 6:25). God reigns in righteousness and justice (e.g., Ps. 97:2), and humans should align their conduct with this righteous reign. Righteousness can be expressed as personal integrity with phrases such as “my righteousness” (2 Sam. 22:21, 25; Ps. 7:8) and “their righteousness” (1 Sam. 26:23). Unrighteousness is found in poetic parallel to injustice (e.g., Jer. 22:13); the unjust are parallel with the wicked (Ps. 82:2).

It seems likely that the OT understanding of righteousness was more concrete and less absolute than the typical thinking of most contemporary Western Christians. A more absolute way of understanding righteousness might lead one to think that a truly righteous person is sinless. While we do have references to absolute righteousness in the OT (e.g., Ps. 143:2; cf. Job 4:17; 25:4; Isa. 64:6–7), there are many more references to a righteousness grounded in particular or generalized situations (e.g., Pss. 32:11; 64:10). Another way of unpacking this conceptual difference is the helpful distinction between “ordinary” and “absolute” righteousness. Ordinary righteousness reflects the kind of righteousness that we intend when making comments such as “my wife is a righteous woman.” This means, taken in broad perspective, that her life is characterized predominantly by righteousness. This statement is not making a claim of sinlessness, absolute righteousness. The OT offers examples of comparative righteousness between people (e.g., Gen. 38:26; 1 Sam. 24:17; Jer. 3:11). Absolute righteousness is different from this. It is the extraordinary righteousness that we see in the person and work of God; he is righteous and without sin, totally holy in his dealings.

Noncanonical Jewish documents from the intertestamental period, while varying greatly in individual perspective, generally affirm OT views of human and divine righteousness. In these documents righteousness often is associated with mercy, goodness, justness, and concern for the poor and is contrasted with wickedness.

In Greco-Roman society, righteousness was one of the cardinal virtues and thus had an important influence in society. Greco-Roman righteousness did have some measure of abstractness as a kind of external norm, but this abstractness should not obscure the fact that righteousness often had a relational component in Greco-Roman literature and life. Righteous and unrighteous behaviors often were embedded in interpersonal relationships. Unrighteous deeds not only violated “transcendent” standards of righteousness, but also impacted humans.

New Testament

Ordinary human righteousness. Righteousness language is more rare in the Gospels than one might expect in light of OT and Jewish intertestamental usage. These references fit with the Jewish setting: righteousness is required of God’s people, and unrighteousness is to be avoided. Righteousness is proper conduct with respect to God or Torah (Matt. 21:32) in contrast to wickedness (Matt. 13:49). Righteousness could be conceived as one’s own (e.g., Luke 18:9) and has its reward (Matt. 10:41). While the specific terms related to righteousness are infrequent in the Gospels, the broader concept of conformity to God’s will is widely apparent in calls for repentance, personal moral uprightness, mercy, and concern for the marginalized. The NT Epistles continue these general strands of the concept. Righteousness is related to personal conduct (1 Thess. 2:10; 1 Tim. 6:11; 2 Tim. 2:22; 1 Pet. 2:24) and is contrasted with wickedness (2 Cor. 6:14); it is a matter of doing, not knowing (Rom. 2:13). An example of righteousness in doing is the kindness shown by the prostitute Rahab, who hid the Israelite spies (James 2:25).

The NT does signal some new dimensions related to righteousness. In the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5–7), Jesus extends the requirements of righteousness to conformity to his own teaching and directives, a shocking display of authority. In his mission to call sinners rather than the “righteous” (e.g., Mark 2:17), Jesus implicitly questions the righteousness of the “righteous.” In similar manner, personal righteousness in terms of a righteousness of one’s own is negative in the NT (Rom. 10:3; Phil. 3:6; cf. Luke 18:9).

Divine righteousness. The NT continues the OT theme of righteousness as it relates to God himself. God is righteous (John 17:25; Rom. 3:5; 9:14; Heb. 6:10; cf. Matt. 6:33). His judgments are righteous (Rom. 2:5), and his commands and laws are righteous (Rom. 7:12; 8:4). God is a righteous judge (2 Tim. 4:8). His saving activity is righteous; he does not compromise his own justice in justifying the ungodly (Rom. 3:24–26). The righteousness of God is contrasted with human unrighteousness and wickedness (Rom. 3:5; James 1:20). Since God reigns over creation in righteousness, human conduct should conform to that standard (e.g., Rom. 14:17). Jesus is also noted as righteous (Acts 3:14; 7:52; 22:14; 1 Pet. 3:18; 1 John 2:1, 29). He fulfilled righteousness in the absolute sense of demonstrating complete conformity to the nature and will of God (e.g., 1 Pet. 3:18). He also fulfilled God’s righteousness in the sense of his saving activity toward humans (e.g., 2 Pet. 1:1).

“The righteousness of God” and extra-ordinary human righteousness. There is a significant OT connection between God’s righteousness and his faithfulness in saving activity (e.g., Psalms; Isa. 40–66). Although there are glimpses of righteousness related to God’s saving activity outside of Paul’s Letter to the Romans (e.g., Matt. 5:10; 6:33), a technical phrase, “the righteousness of God,” is used in three important texts in Romans (1:17; 3:21–22 [2×]; 10:3 [2×]). In the gospel, “the righteousness of God” is revealed, where “righteousness of God” could mean his divine righteousness in some sense, righteousness from God (NIV), God’s saving activity as related to his righteousness in fulfilling his covenant faithfulness (e.g., Psalms), or some combination of these.

The righteousness of God is further discussed in Rom. 3:21: “the righteousness of God” has now been revealed apart from the Mosaic law, though the OT testifies about it (cf. Rom. 4 and Rom. 1:17; Gal. 3:11; Heb. 10:38). This righteousness of God is clarified in that it is by trust in Jesus Christ for all, both Jews and Gentiles. The “righteousness of God” may be distinguished from righteousness as a character quality of God (Rom. 3:25–26). In fact, it must be, for God’s righteousness as a character quality was revealed in the OT, whereas “the righteousness of God” is “apart from the [Mosaic] law” (3:21).

In Rom. 10:3 Paul comments that the Israelites are ignorant of “the righteousness of God”; they are seeking to establish their own righteousness because they are not submitting to “the righteousness of God.” The Israelites certainly knew of God’s righteousness in terms of his character, judgments, and expectations of his people. The lack of submission to “the righteousness of God” occurs in the context of the Jewish rejection of Jesus (e.g., 9:32–33; 10:9–13). And Jesus is the key to understanding “the righteousness of God” in the other texts also.

In Rom. 1:17 the righteousness of God is revealed in the gospel, which is the power of God for salvation to all who trust in Jesus (1:3–5, 16). The righteousness of God in 3:21–22 is related to trust in Jesus (3:22, 25–26), who as a sacrifice of atonement (3:25) enables the justification and redemption of sinners (3:24, 26). In Jesus we become the righteousness of God (2 Cor. 5:21). The righteousness of God, then, is God’s saving activity revealed and manifested in the person and work of the Lord Jesus Christ, whereby sinners are justified as both innocent and righteous in 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).

In classical Greek, “world” (kosmos) communicated the idea that the external universe is a well-ordered system. In early Greek usage, the term was used with reference to specific types of social orderings, such as the seating order of rowers (Homer, Od. 13.77), the order of soldiers (Homer, Il. 12.225), and well-ordered political states such as Sparta (Herodotus, Hist. 1.65).

Created World

In the OT, the notion of the created “world” departed from the Greek understanding specifically in that creation is never seen as an independent entity controlled by an impersonal, all-embracing order. Rather, the universe, usually described with the phrase “the heavens and the earth” (Gen. 1:1; 2:1, 4; Ps. 113:6; Jer. 10:11) or at times the “all” or “all things” (Ps. 103:19; Jer. 10:16), is always understood in its relationship to its creator: “He who created the heavens, he is God; he who fashioned and made the earth, he founded it; he did not create it to be empty, but formed it to be inhabited—he says: ‘I am the Lord, and there is no other’ ” (Isa. 45:18). Here, the “world” (“earth”) refers to the material elements that make up the planet (see also Jer. 32:17; Zech. 12:1) and the sum total of the entire universe (cf. Acts 17:24). Even in the account of creation in Gen. 1:1–2:4, where many of the elements of the physical world are mentioned (waters, firmament, stars, etc.), the primary intent of the account is to convey that God is Lord over everything because he is the Creator. Often these created elements that make up the world are praised not for their own inherent beauty, but as a testimony to the majesty, supremacy, and omnipotence of the Creator (Pss. 8; 19:1–6; 33:6–9). In Ps. 148:3–6 the elements within the natural order (kosmos) are instructed to praise God: “Praise him, sun and moon; praise him, all you shining stars. Praise him, you highest heavens and you waters above the skies. Let them praise the name of the Lord, for at his command they were created, and he established them for ever and ever—he issued a decree that will never pass away.”

Though not providing a comprehensive description, the OT does at times refer to how the world is constructed as a whole. The “vault” (Gen. 1:6–20 [RSV: “firmament”]) of heaven separates the waters above from the waters below (which are restrained by God’s sovereign care [Gen. 1:7; 7:11; 49:25]), and this area or chamber rests on “pillars” (Job 26:11). At times the earth is described as a disc with the sanctuary as its center point (Judg. 9:37; Ezek. 38:12), which rests on pillars (Job 9:6). There is an underworld, from which there is no return (Job 10:21); however, the OT does not engage in the kind of speculation regarding the underworld as is evident in the Greco-Roman tradition.

Earth and Its Inhabitants

The term “world” conveys other nuances in the Bible. It often refers to the inhabitants of the earth or the place of human life: “He rules the world in righteousness and judges the peoples with equity” (Ps. 9:8 [cf. Pss. 96:13; 98:9]); or, “Come near, you nations, and listen; pay attention, you peoples! Let the earth hear, and all that is in it, the world, and all that comes out of it!” (Isa. 34:1). Also, in the Gospels “world” is used in this way: “What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” (Mark 8:36). Matthew 4:8 refers to all the kingdoms of the world. Also the expressions “coming into the world” (John 1:9; 3:19), “in the world” (John 1:10; 2 Cor. 1:12), and “leave this world” (1 Cor. 5:10) can be understood as referring to the sphere of human life.

Ungodly Culture and Worldview

“World” can also refer to something more than the material world or humanity in general; it can refer to the entire cultural value system or world order that is hostile toward God. The “world” is a common biblical way of referring to the ungodly worldview and lifestyle that characterize human life in its rebellion against the Creator. The course of the world is profoundly affected by fallen humans, through whom death came into the world and rules over it (Rom. 5:12). Therefore, Paul can claim that “the whole world” has become guilty before God (Rom. 3:19), and even the created world is affected by such rebellion (8:20–22). Paul especially links “this world” with “this age” (1 Cor. 3:19; 5:10; Eph. 2:2 NET), which God has judged (Rom. 3:6). John declares that Satan is the “prince of this world” (John 12:31; 14:30; 16:11). Paul refers to Satan as the “god of this world” (2 Cor. 4:4 ESV, NRSV, NASB), who is able to blind individuals to the truth and who animates human rebellion (Eph. 2:2). In this sense, God and the world are strictly separate: “Don’t you know that friendship with the world means enmity against God? Therefore, anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God” (James 4:4). Because of this call to an exclusive relationship with God, believers are mandated to resist and even confront the world. Followers of Christ must not be taken captive by philosophy or the “elemental spiritual forces of this world” (Col. 2:8, 20), since, as Paul says, “the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world” (Gal. 6:14).

But it is the world that designates the location and object of God’s saving activity. Indeed, God sent his Son into this world in order to reconcile it to himself (2 Cor. 5:19). Jesus, the sacrificial Lamb of God, “takes away the sins of the world” (John 1:29). Out of love for this world, God sent his Son (John 3:1), not to judge it but to save it: “God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him” (John 3:17).

Although believers live in the world (1 Cor. 5:10; Phil. 2:15) and must have dealings with the world, ultimately they are not of the world (John 17:14). Remaining in Christ, believers are able to demonstrate in the world the belief and practice of the new commandment to love (John 13:34; 15:9). Therefore, Christians must maintain a critical distance from the world’s system: “Do not love the world or anything in the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in them. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—comes not from the Father but from the world” (1 John 2:15–16 [cf. James 1:27; 4:4]). Believers are to avoid the seductive power of the world and not abandon themselves to it; they are to follow their Lord in proclaiming God’s project of reconciling the world to himself through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ (2 Cor. 5:18).

Death is commonly defined as the end of physical life, wherein the normal biological processes associated with life (such as respiration) cease. This definition, however, does not adequately encompass the varied nuances associated with death in the Bible.

The Beginning of Death

Death is introduced in the Bible as the penalty for transgressing the prohibition against eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil—a contrast to Mesopotamia, where death was part of the divine design of human beings. In Gen. 2:16–17 God tells the first man, “When you eat from [the fruit of the tree] you will certainly die.” The consequences of eating provide a useful basis for discussing the nature of death from a biblical perspective.

First, as is apparent from the subsequent narrative, neither the man nor the woman experiences physical, biological death immediately after eating the fruit. In this way, Gen. 2–3 reflects the common biblical notion that death refers to more than just biological death, pointing to the more significant aspect of death that embodies alienation and separation from the source of life, God. The point is presupposed by Jesus when he offers life to those who are dead (John 5:24), and by Paul when he proclaims that before Christ all were dead in their sins and transgressions (Eph. 2:1, 5). It is also reflected in the common punishment prescribed in the Pentateuch whereby offenders were cut off from the people (Gen. 17:14; Exod. 12:15, 19; 30:38; cf. Gen. 9:11; Exod. 9:15). Within Gen. 2–3, death arrives with loss of access to the tree of life in the garden. Biologically, the first man and woman may continue to live for a while outside the garden, but their fate is sealed when they are cut off from the garden and the intimate fellowship with the Creator that had been enjoyed therein.

Second, the strong implication of Gen. 2:16–17 is that human beings, as originally created, were not subject to death (see also Rom. 5:12; 6:23; 1 Cor. 15:21). This does not mean that they were immortal in the same manner as God (cf. 1 Tim. 6:16), but rather that they were contingently immortal: they were not subject to death but sustained by their relationship to the life-giving God through the provision of the tree of life (cf. Rev. 2:7; 22:2, 14). Once they were cut off from the source of life, death ensued.

The account of the arrival of death in Gen. 3, however, tells us little about how death affected animals, since the Bible consistently presents a predominantly human focus. While Eccles. 3:21 affirms human ignorance over the relative postmortem fate of humans and animals, little else is said on the matter. Similarly, it is not entirely clear whether death is introduced as a punishment for sin for humans only (and so whether animals could have died prior to the fall) or whether animals were perceived as sharing in immortality prior to the fall.

Death in the Old Testament

Death is frequently depicted negatively throughout the OT. Aside from its initial presentation as a divine punishment for sin, it is presented as that which seeks out and devours life and is terrifying (Pss. 18:4–5; 55:4; Prov. 30:15–16; Hab. 2:5). For the author of Ecclesiastes, death is that which ultimately undermines any possible value that life may otherwise have (e.g., Eccles. 9:3). The tragedy of death, in the OT, is that it results in separation, from God (as noted above in the context of Gen. 2–3) and from people. The psalms, for example, frequently cite the finality and profundity of death’s effects (e.g., Pss. 6:5; 88:5; 115:17; cf. Isa. 38:18). Even those few passages that appear to present death more positively (e.g., Job 3:13, 17) ultimately serve to highlight the appalling circumstances of the speaker’s life rather than any blessed state of the dead (for a similar idea in the NT, see Rev. 9:6).

The OT does, however, depict death as the natural end of life, and a good death as one that arrives only after a long and prosperous life. So Abraham (Gen. 25:8), Isaac (Gen. 35:29), and Job (Job 42:16–17) are said to live long lives before they die. Furthermore, some passages refer to the person being “gathered to his people,” suggesting some form of reunion with previous generations in death, presumably in Sheol, although the location and state of the dead are never explicated. Isaiah can even include the idea of death within language used to describe the ideal future world (Isa. 65:20).

Although there are no laws relating to the manner in which the bodies of the dead were to be handled, all the descriptive indicators show that burial was normative, often in a family tomb or plot (e.g., Gen. 23; cf. 1 Kings 13:22). Indeed, the importance of an appropriate burial is apparent in Ecclesiastes’ comment that a stillborn child is better off than someone who lives a long life but receives no burial (Eccles. 6:3) and in the prophets’ presentation of those not buried as being accursed (Jer. 8:2; 14:16; 16:4).

Life after Death in the Old Testament

Belief in some form of postmortem existence was common in many parts of the ancient world. In Egypt, an elaborate set of beliefs relating to the state of those who had died included the possibility of an ongoing existence that could even surpass what one may have experienced before death (although such an opportunity was a reasonable expectation only for the upper classes, while the general population probably had more modest expectations of the nature of their existence in the afterlife). By way of contrast, Mesopotamian beliefs depicted a far darker and more troubling afterlife for all but the very few whose lives and deaths were sufficiently blessed to ensure them some degree of postmortem comfort. For the remainder, there was little hope for any positive experience following death.

The OT, however, has little to say about the state of those who have died. The widespread belief in some form of continued existence beyond biological death in the ancient world suggests that, in the absence of contrary data in the Bible, the people of Israel probably assumed that some aspect of a person persisted beyond death. Furthermore, there are hints that this may have been the case, such as the raising of Samuel’s shade by the medium at Endor (1 Sam. 28), the escape from death of Enoch (Gen. 5:24) and Elijah (2 Kings 2:11), the revivification of the body dropped on Elisha’s bones (2 Kings 13:21), and expressions used to refer to death such as “gathered to his people” (Gen. 25:8, 17; 35:29; 49:29; Num. 27:13; Deut. 32:50; cf. Gen. 47:30; Deut. 31:16). The dead (sometimes referred to by the term repa’im, “shades/spirits of the dead”) were thought to dwell in Sheol, generally described as under the earth (e.g., Ezek. 31:14). Beyond this, there are prophetic expectations that God will ultimately destroy death (e.g., Isa. 25:8), and that God does not take pleasure in anyone’s death (Ezek. 18:23, 32).

Death in the New Testament

The NT continues, and in some places expands upon, the negative view of death presented in the OT. The notion that death is a consequence of and punishment for the sinful state that imprisons all humanity is stated emphatically (e.g., Rom. 3:23; 6:23) and reinforced by the notion that, although biologically alive, sinful humans are dead in their sin and so incapable of reviving themselves (Eph. 2:1). Death, according to Paul, is the last enemy (1 Cor. 15:26), and yet to die is gain (Phil. 1:21–24) because it heralds being with Christ, which, explains Paul, “is better by far” than being alive in this body in this world.

Central to both the message of the Bible and to the significance of death in the Bible is the death of the Messiah, God’s Son. Jesus’ death provides the basis for countering the consequences of the original rebellion against God by the first couple (2 Cor. 5:21). Consequently, Paul could write that Jesus’ death itself destroyed death (2 Tim. 1:10). Furthermore, the life that Jesus offers—eternal life—is available to the believer in the present (John 3:36; 5:24), prior to the time when death is ultimately abolished, such that Jesus could assert that all those who believe in him will live even though they die (John 11:25–26).

The NT expands somewhat on the details relating to the state of the dead from the OT. For one thing, the existence of an afterlife is clearly presented. Furthermore, the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19–31) reflects a more comprehensive understanding of the existence of distinctions among those who have died, such that the rich man is said to be suffering in Hades (Gk. hadēs, used in the LXX to translate Heb. she’ol in the OT), while Lazarus is far off with Abraham and being comforted. Although there is a danger in reading too much into a parable, the detail appears to reflect something of the expanded understanding of the afterlife among some in Jesus’ day.

The NT makes several references to a “second death” (Rev. 2:11; 20:6, 14; 21:8; cf. Jude 12). The expression refers to the state of eternal judgment under God’s wrath, a death from which there will be no escape. But those who remain faithful to Christ will not experience this second death (Rev. 20:6), and in their dwelling place with God, the new Jerusalem, death will be no more (21:4).

The English word “atonement” comes from an Anglo-Saxon word, “onement,” with the preposition “at”; thus “at-onement,” or “at unity.” In some ways this word has more in common with the idea of reconciliation than our modern concept of atonement, which, while having “oneness” as its result, emphasizes rather the idea of how that unity is achieved, by someone “atone-ing” for a wrong or wrongs done. Atonement, in Christian theology, concerns how Christ achieved this “onement” between God and sinful humanity.

The need for atonement comes from the separation that has come about between God and humanity because of sin. In both Testaments there is the understanding that God has distanced himself from his creatures on account of their rebellion. Isaiah tells the people of Judah, “Your iniquities have separated you from your God” (59:2). And Paul talks about how we were “God’s enemies” (Rom. 5:10). So atonement is the means provided by God to effect reconciliation. The atonement is required on account of God’s holiness and justice.

Old Testament

In the OT, the sacrificial system was the means by which sins were atoned for, ritual purity was restored, iniquities were forgiven, and an amicable relationship between God and the offerer of the sacrifice was reestablished. Moses tells the Israelites that God has given them the blood of the sacrificial animals “to make atonement for yourselves on the altar; it is the blood that makes atonement for one’s life” (Lev. 17:11). In essence, this is the basic operating principle for atonement in the OT—the offering of the blood of a slaughtered animal in place of the life of the offerer. However, there have been significant scholarly debates regarding whether this accurately portrays the ancient Israelite understanding of atonement.

The meaning of “to atone.” First, there is disagreement over the precise meaning of the Hebrew word kapar (“to atone”). Among the more popular suggestions are these: to cover, to remove, to wipe out, to appease, to make amends, to redeem or ransom, to forgive, and to avert/divert. Of late, one very influential theory is that atonement has little or nothing to do with the individual offerer, but serves only to purify the tabernacle or temple and the furniture within from the impurities that attach to them on account of the community’s sin. This theory, though most probably correct in what it affirms, unnecessarily restricts the effects of atonement to the tabernacle and furniture. There are, to be sure, texts that specifically mention atonement being made for the altar (e.g., Exod. 29:36–37; Lev. 8:15). But the repeated affirmation for most of the texts in Leviticus and Numbers is that the atonement is made for the offerer (e.g., Lev. 1:4; 4:20, 26); atonement results in forgiveness of sin for the one bringing the offering. As far as the precise meaning of kapar is concerned, it may be that some of the suggested meanings overlap and that a particular concept is more prevalent in some passages, and another one in others.

There has also been debate over the significance of the offerer laying a hand on the head of the sacrificial animal (e.g., Lev. 1:4; 3:2). This has traditionally been understood as an identification of the offerer with the sacrifice and a transference of the offerer’s sins to the sacrifice. Recently this has been disputed and the argument made instead that it only signifies that the animal does indeed belong to the offerer, who therefore has the right to offer it. But again, this is unduly restrictive; it should rather be seen as complementary to what has traditionally been understood by this gesture. Indeed, in the rite for the Day of Atonement, when the priest lays his hands on the one goat, confesses Israel’s sin and wickedness, and in doing so is said to be putting them on the goat’s head (Lev. 16:21), this would seem to affirm the correctness of the traditional understanding. The sacrifice is thus best seen as substitutionary: it takes the place of the offerer; it dies in his stead.

The relationship between God and the offerer. Second, granted that the word kapar has to do with the forgiveness of sins, the question arises as to the exact effect that it has on the relationship between God and the offerer. The question here is whether the effect is expiation or propitiation. Does the offering expiate the sin—wipe it out, erase it, remove it? Or does it propitiate the one to whom the sacrifice is offered? That is, does it appease and placate God, so that the threat of God’s wrath is removed? In one respect, the distinction seems artificial; it seems logical that expiation naturally results in propitiation. On the other hand, the modern-day tendency to deny that God could possibly be a God of wrath makes the question relevant. In any case, there are certainly, in both religious and nonreligious contexts, passages where something like “appease” or “pacify” appears to be a proper rendering of kapar (Gen. 32:20; Exod. 32:30; Num. 16:46–47; 25:1–13; 1 Sam. 3:14). The effect of atonement is that sins are removed and forgiven, and God is appeased.

In conjunction with this last point, it is also important to note that there are a number of places where it is said that God does the kapar, that God is the one who makes atonement. Deuteronomy 21:8 calls upon God, literally, to “atone [NIV: “accept this atonement”] for your people, Israel.” In Deut. 32:43 God will “make atonement for his land and people.” Psalm 65:3 (ESV) states that God “atone[s] for our transgressions” (ESV). Hezekiah prays in 2 Chron. 30:18, “May the Lord, who is good, pardon [atone for] everyone.” In Ps. 78:38 (ESV), God is said to have “atoned” for Israel’s iniquity. Psalm 79:9 (ESV) asks God to “atone for our sins for your name’s sake.” In Isa. 43:3 kapar is translated as “ransom,” and God says to Israel that he gave “Egypt for your ransom.” In Ezek. 16:63 God declares that he will “make atonement” for all the sins that Israel has committed. It may be that in most of these passages “atone” is to be understood as a synonym of “forgive.” However, as many commentators have noted, in at least some of these passages, the thought is that God is either being called upon to take or is taking upon himself the role of high priest, atoning for the sins of the people. It is important to remember God’s declaration in Lev. 17:11 that he has given to the Israelites the blood of the sacrificial animals to make atonement for their sins. Atonement, no matter how it is conceived of or carried out, is a gift that God graciously grants to his covenant people.

That leads to a consideration of one particularly relevant passage, Isa. 52:13–53:12. In this text a figure referred to as “my [the Lord’s] servant” (52:13) is described as one who “took up our pain and bore our suffering” (53:4). He was “pierced for our transgressions” and “crushed for our iniquities” (53:5). “The Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all” (53:6). And then we are told, “Yet it was the Lord’s will to crush him and cause him to suffer,” and that “the Lord makes his life an offering for sin [NASB: “guilt offering”]” (53:10). There are many issues with regard to the proper interpretation of this “Servant Song” (as it is often called), one of them being whether the term translated “guilt offering” should really be thought of along the lines of the guilt offering described in the book of Leviticus (5:14–6:7; 7:1–10). But if the traditional Christian understanding of this passage is correct, we have here a picture of God himself assuming the role of priest and atoning for the sins of his people by placing their iniquities and sins on his servant, a figure regarded by Jesus and the apostles in the NT to be God’s very own son, Christ Jesus.

New Testament

The relationship between the Testaments. When we come to the NT, four very important initial points should be made.

First, God’s wrath against sin and sinners is just as much a NT consideration as an OT one. God still considers those who are sinful and unrighteous to be his “enemies” (Rom. 5:10; Col. 1:21). Wrath and punishment await those who do not confess Jesus Christ as Lord (John 3:36; Rom. 2:5; Eph. 2:3). Atonement is the means of averting this wrath.

Second, salvation is promised to those who come to God by faith in Christ Jesus, but there is still the problem of how God can, at the same time, be “just” himself and yet also be the one who “justifies” sinners and declares them righteous (Rom. 3:26). God will not simply declare sinners to be justified unless his own justness is also upheld. Atonement is the way by which God is both just and justifier.

Third, as we saw in the OT that, ultimately, God is the one who atones, so also in the NT God is the one who provides the means for atonement. It is by his gracious initiative that atonement becomes possible. If Jesus’ death is the means by which atonement is achieved, it is God himself who “presented Christ as a sacrifice of atonement” (Rom. 3:25). It was God himself who “so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son” (John 3:16). God himself “sent his Son as an atoning sacrifice for our sins” (1 John 4:10). God “did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all” (Rom. 8:32). Additionally, Christ himself was not an unwilling victim; he was actively involved in the accomplishing of atonement by his death (Luke 9:31; John 10:15–18; Heb. 9:14).

Fourth, the atoning sacrifice of the Son was necessary because, ultimately, the OT sacrifices could not really have provided the necessary atonement: “it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (Heb. 10:4).

Portrayals of Christ’s work of atonement. It has become common of late to refer to the different “images” or “metaphors” of atonement that appear in the NT. This is understandable on one level, but on another level there is something misleading about it. So, for example, when the NT authors speak of Christ as a sacrifice for sin, it is not at all clear that they intend for the reader to take this as imagery. Rather, Christ really is a sacrifice, offered by God the Father, to take away sins, and to bear in his own body the penalty that should have been placed on the sinner. Christ’s sacrifice has an organic connection to the OT sacrificial system, as the “full, final sacrifice.” The author of Hebrews would not have considered this to be imagery. In fact, a better case could be made that, from his perspective, Christ was the real sacrifice, and all the instances of sacrifice in the OT were the imagery (Heb. 10:1). So as we look at the different portrayals of Christ in his work of atonement in the NT, some of these may best be categorized as imagery or metaphor, while others perhaps are better described as a “facet” of, or a “window” on, the atonement. It should also be noted that the individual portrayals do not exclude the others, and in some cases they overlap.

• Ransom. Some passages in the NT speak of Christ’s death as a ransom paid to set us free (Matt. 20:28; Mark 10:45; 1 Tim. 2:6; Heb. 9:15). The same Greek word translated “ransom” in these passages is rendered as “redeem” or “redemption” in other passages (Eph. 1:7; Col. 1:14). Other forms of the same word are also translated “redeem” or “redemption” in Gal. 3:13–14; 4:5; Titus 2:14; Heb. 9:12; 1 Pet. 1:18–19; Rev. 14:3. A near synonym of these words is used in Rev. 5:9; 14:4, referring to how Christ “purchased” people by his blood. In most of these cases the picture is that of slaves who have been ransomed, redeemed, or purchased from the slave market. Sometimes this is referred to as an “economic” view of atonement, though this label seems a bit crass, for the purchase is not of a commodity but of human lives at the expense of Christ’s own life and blood. To ask the question as to whom the ransom was paid is probably taking the picture too far. But those who are ransomed are redeemed from a life of slavery to sin and to the law.

• Curse bearer. In Gal. 3:13–14, noted above, there is also the picture of Christ as one who bore the curse of the law in our place. The language is especially striking because rather than saying that Christ bore the curse, Paul says that Christ became “a curse.” This is an especially forceful way of saying that Christ fully took into his own person the curse that was meant for us.

• Penalty bearer. Closely related to “curse bearer,” this portrayal depicts Christ as one who has borne the legal consequences of our sins, consequences that we should have suffered; rather, because Christ has borne the penalty, we are now declared to be righteous and no longer subject to condemnation. This idea stands behind much of the argumentation that Paul uses in Romans and Galatians, and it also intersects with the other portrayals. Passages representative of this picture are Rom. 3:24–26; 4:25; 5:8–21; 8:32–34; Gal. 3:13–14; Eph. 2:15. It is also what should be understood by Peter’s description of Christ’s death as “the just for the unjust” in 1 Pet. 3:18 (NASB, NET), as well as in 2 Cor. 5:21, where Paul states that Christ has become “sin for us” so that we might become the “righteousness of God.”

• Propitiation. There are four passages where the NIV uses “atonement” or “atoning” in the translation to reflect either the Greek verb hilaskomai or related nouns hilastērion or hilasmos. This is the word group that the LXX regularly uses to translate the Hebrew verb kapar and related nouns. There has been much debate about the precise meaning of the word in these four NT texts, in particular, as to whether it means to “expiate” (“remove guilt”) or to “propitiate” (“appease” or “avert wrath”). The better arguments have been advanced in favor of “propitiate”; at the very least, propitiation is implied in expiation. The wrath that we should have suffered on account of our sins has been suffered by Jesus Christ instead. Although the specific word is not used, this is the understanding as well in those passages where it is said either that Christ died “for our sins” (1 Cor. 15:3), “gave himself for our sins” (Gal. 1:4), “bore our sins” (1 Pet. 2:24), or that his blood was poured out “for the forgiveness of sins” (Matt. 26:28; cf. Eph. 1:7).

• Passover. In 1 Cor. 5:7 Paul states that “Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed.” Although the Passover has not traditionally been thought of as a sacrifice for sin (though many scholars would argue that it was), at the very least we should recognize a substitutionary concept at play in Paul’s use of the Passover idea. A lamb died so that the firstborn would not. The Gospel of John seems to have the same understanding. Early in the Gospel, Jesus is proclaimed as the “Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). And then in his account of Jesus’ passion, John narrates that his crucifixion was precisely at the same time as the slaying of the Passover lambs (John 19:14).

• Sacrifice. This theme has already been touched on in the other portraits above, but it is important to recognize the significance of this concept in the NT and especially in the book of Hebrews. There, Christ is portrayed as both sacrifice and the high priest who offers the sacrifice (2:17; 7:27; 9:11–28; 10:10–21; 12:24). He came, not as some have argued, to show the uselessness of the sacrificial system, but rather to be the “full, final sacrifice” within that system, “that he might make atonement for the sins of the people” (2:17).

Of course, it is not just the death of Christ that secures our redemption. His entire earthly life, as well as his resurrection and heavenly intercessory work, must also be recognized. But with regard to the work of atonement per se, Christ’s earthly life, his sinless “active obedience,” is what qualifies him to be the perfect sacrifice. His resurrection is the demonstration of God’s acceptance of Christ’s sacrifice (he “was raised to life for our justification” [Rom. 4:25]). But it was particularly his death that provided atonement for our sins.

Terminology

The NT word for “church” is ekklēsia, which means “gathering, assembly, congregation.” In classical Greek the term was used almost exclusively for political gatherings. In particular, in Athens the word signified the assembling of the citizens for the purpose of conducting the affairs of the city. Moreover, ekklēsia referred only to the actual meeting, not to the citizens themselves. When the people were not assembled, they were not considered to be the ekklēsia. The NT records three instances of this secular usage of the term (Acts 19:32, 39, 41).

The most important background for the Christian use of the term is the LXX (Greek translation of the Hebrew Scriptures, dated c. 250 BC), which uses the word in a religious sense about one hundred times, almost always as a translation of the Hebrew word qahal. While qahal does not indicate a secular gathering (in contrast to ’edah, the typical Hebrew word for Israel’s religious gathering, translated by Greek synagōgē), it does denote Israel’s sacred meetings. This is especially the case in Deuteronomy, where qahal is linked with the covenant.

In the NT, ekklēsia is used to refer to the community of God’s people 109 times (out of 114 occurrences of the term). Although the word occurs in only two Gospel passages (Matt. 16:18; 18:17), it is of special importance in Acts (23 times) and the Pauline writings (46 times). It is found 20 times in Revelation and in isolated instances in James and Hebrews. Three general conclusions can be drawn from this usage. First, ekklēsia (in both the singular and the plural) applies predominantly to a local assembly of those who profess faith in and allegiance to Christ. Second, ekklēsia designates the universal church (Acts 8:3; 9:31; 1 Cor. 12:28; 15:9; especially in the later Pauline letters: Eph. 1:22–23; Col. 1:18). Third, the ekklēsia is God’s congregation (1 Cor. 1:2; 2 Cor. 1:1).

The Nature of the Church

The nature of the church is too broad to be exhausted in the meaning of one word. To capture its significance, the NT authors utilize a rich array of metaphorical descriptions. Nevertheless, there are those metaphors that seem to dominate the biblical pictures of the church, five of which call for comment: the people of God, the kingdom of God, the eschatological temple of God, the bride of Christ, and the body of Christ.

The people of God. Essentially, the concept of the people of God can be summed up in the covenantal phrase: “I will be their God, and they will be my people” (see Exod. 6:6–7; 19:5; Lev. 26:9–14; Jer. 7:23; 30:22; 32:37–40; Ezek. 11:19–20; 36:22–28; Acts 15:14; 2 Cor. 6:16; Heb. 8:10–12; Rev. 21:3). Thus, the people of God are those in both the OT and the NT eras who responded to God by faith and whose spiritual origin rests exclusively in God’s grace.

To speak of the one people of God transcending the eras of the OT and the NT necessarily raises the question of the relationship between the church and Israel. Modern interpreters prefer not to polarize the matter into an either/or issue. Rather, they talk about the church and Israel in terms of there being both continuity and discontinuity between them.

Continuity between the church and Israel. Two ideas establish the fact that the church and Israel are portrayed in the Bible as being in a continuous relationship. First, in the OT the church was present in Israel in some sense. Acts 7:38 suggests this connection when, alluding to Deut. 9:10, it speaks of the church (ekklēsia) in the wilderness. The same idea is probably to be inferred from the intimate association noted earlier existing between the words ekklēsia and qahal, especially when the latter is qualified by the phrase “of God.” Furthermore, if the church is viewed in some NT passages as preexistent, then one finds therein the prototype of the creation of Israel (see Exod. 25:40; Acts 7:44; Gal. 4:26; Heb. 12:22; Rev. 21:11; cf. Eph. 1:3–14).

Second, Israel in some sense is present in the church in the NT. The many OT names for Israel applied to the church in the NT establish that fact. Some of those are “Israel” (Gal. 6:15–16; Eph. 2:12; Heb. 8:8–10; Rev. 2:14), “a chosen people” (1 Pet. 2:9), “the circumcision” (Rom. 2:28–29; Phil. 3:3; Col. 2:11), “Abraham’s seed” (Rom. 4:16; Gal. 3:29), “the remnant” (Rom. 9:27; 11:5–7), “the elect” (Rom. 11:28; Eph. 1:4), “the flock” (Acts 20:28; Heb. 13:20; 1 Pet. 5:2), and “priesthood” (1 Pet. 2:9; Rev. 1:6; 5:10).

Discontinuity between the church and Israel. The church, however, is not totally identical with Israel; discontinuity also characterizes the relationship. The church, according to the NT, is the eschatological (end-time) Israel incorporated in Jesus Christ and, as such, is a progression beyond historical Israel (1 Cor. 10:11; 2 Cor. 5:14–21). Indeed, significant discontinuity is introduced by the fact that the church includes Gentiles as members of Israel, without requiring them to convert to Judaism first. Gentiles enter as Gentiles. However, a caveat must be issued at this point. Although the church is a progression beyond Israel, it does not seem to be the permanent replacement of Israel (see Rom. 9–11, esp. 11:25–27).

The kingdom of God. Many scholars have maintained that the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus inaugurated the kingdom of God, producing the overlapping of the two ages. The kingdom has already dawned but is not yet complete. The first aspect pertains to Jesus’ first coming, and the second aspect relates to his second coming. In other words, the age to come has broken into this age, and now the two exist simultaneously. This background is crucial in ascertaining the relationship between the church and the kingdom of God, because the church also exists in the tension that results from the overlapping of the two ages. Accordingly, one may define the church as the foreshadowing of the kingdom. Two ideas flow from this definition: first, the church is related to the kingdom of God; second, the church is not equal to the kingdom of God.

The church and the kingdom of God are related. Not until after the resurrection of Jesus does the NT speak with regularity about the church. However, there are early signs of the church in the teaching and ministry of Jesus, in both general and specific ways. In general, Jesus anticipated the later official formation of the church in that he gathered to himself the twelve disciples, who constituted the beginnings of eschatological Israel—in effect, the remnant. More specifically, Jesus explicitly referred to the church in two passages: Matt. 16:18–19; 18:17. In the first passage Jesus promised that he would build his church despite satanic opposition, thus assuring the ultimate success of his mission. The notion of the church overcoming the forces of evil coincides with the idea that the kingdom of God will prevail over its enemies and bespeaks the intimate association between the church and the kingdom. The second passage relates to the future organization of the church, not unlike the Jewish synagogue practices of Jesus’ day.

The church and the kingdom of God are not identical. As intimately related as the church and the kingdom of God are, the NT does not equate the two, as is evident in the fact that the early Christians preached the kingdom, not the church (Acts 8:12; 19:8; 20:25; 28:23, 31). The NT identifies the church as the people of the kingdom (e.g., Rev. 5:10), not the kingdom itself. Moreover, the church is the instrument of the kingdom. This is especially clear from Matt. 16:18–19, where the preaching of Peter and the church become the keys to opening up the kingdom of God to all who would enter.

The eschatological temple of God. Both the OT and Judaism anticipated the rebuilding of the temple in the future kingdom of God (e.g., Ezek. 40–48; Hag. 2:1–9; 1 En. 90:29; 91:3; Jub. 1:17, 29). Jesus hinted that he was going to build such a structure (Matt. 16:18; Mark 14:58; John 2:19–22). Pentecost witnessed to the beginning of the fulfillment of that dream in that when the Spirit inhabited the church, the eschatological temple was formed (Acts 2:16–36). Other NT writers also perceived that the presence of the Spirit in the Christian community constituted the new temple of God (1 Cor. 3:16–17; 2 Cor. 6:14–7:1; Eph. 2:19–22; see also Gal. 4:21–31; 1 Pet. 2:4–10). How­ever, that the eschatological temple is not yet complete is evident in the preceding passages, especially in their emphasis on the need for the church to grow toward maturity in Christ, which will be fully accomplished only at the parousia (second coming of Christ). In the meantime, Christians, as priests of God, are to perform their sacrificial service to the glory of God (Rom. 12:1–2; Heb. 13:15; 1 Pet. 2:4–10).

The bride of Christ. The image of marriage is applied to God and Israel in the OT (see Isa. 54:5–6; 62:5; Hos. 2:7). Similar imagery is applied to Christ and the church in the NT. Christ, the bridegroom, has sacrificially and lovingly chosen the church to be his bride (Eph. 5:25–27). Her responsibility during the betrothal period is to be faithful to him (2 Cor. 11:2; Eph. 5:24). At the parousia the official wedding ceremony will take place, and with it the eternal union of Christ and his wife will be actualized (Rev. 19:7–9; 21:1–2).

The body of Christ. The body of Christ as a metaphor for the church is unique to the Pauline literature and constitutes one of the most significant concepts therein (Rom. 12:4–5; 1 Cor. 12:12–27; Eph. 4:7–16; Col. 1:18). The primary purpose of the metaphor is to demonstrate the interrelatedness of diversity and unity within the church, especially with reference to spiritual gifts. The body of Christ is the last Adam (1 Cor. 15:45), the new humanity of the end time that has appeared in history. However, Paul’s usage of the image, like the metaphor of the new temple, indicates that the church, as the body of Christ, still has a long way to go spiritually. It is not yet complete.

Sacraments

At the heart of the expression of the church’s faith are the sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s Supper. The former symbolizes entrance into the church, while the latter provides spiritual sustenance for the church.

Baptism. Baptism symbolizes the sinner’s entrance into the church. Three observations emerge from the biblical treatment of this sacrament. First, the OT intimated baptism, especially in its association of repentance of sin with ablutions (Num.19:18–22; Ps. 51:7; Ezek. 36:25; cf. John 3:5). Second, the baptism of John anticipated Christian baptism. John administered a baptism of repentance in expectation of the baptism of the Spirit and fire that the Messiah would exercise (Matt. 3:11 // Luke 3:16). Those who accept Jesus as Messiah experience the baptism of fire and judgment (which may be an allusion to undergoing the great tribulation/messianic woes that lead into the messianic kingdom). Third, the early church practiced baptism in imitation of the Lord Jesus (Matt. 3:13–17 // Mark 1:9–11 // Luke 3:21–22; see also John 1:32–34; cf. Matt. 28:19; Acts 2:38; 8:16; Rom. 6:3–6; 1 Cor. 1:13–15; Gal. 3:27; Titus 3:5; 1 Pet. 3:21). These passages demonstrate some further truths about baptism: baptism is intimately related to faith in God; baptism identifies the person with the death and resurrection of Jesus; baptism incorporates the person into the community of believers.

Lord’s Supper. The other biblical sacrament is the Lord’s Supper. This rite symbolizes Christ’s spiritual nourishment of his church as it celebrates the sacred meal. Two basic points emerge from the biblical data concerning the Lord’s Supper. First, it was instituted by Christ (Matt. 26:26–29; Mark 14:22–25; Luke 22:15–20; 1 Cor. 11:23–25), probably as an adaptation of the Passover meal. If that is the case, then, Jesus will have introduced two changes into the Passover seder: he replaced the unleavened bread with a reference to his body being given for us on the cross; he replaced the cup of redemption with a reference to his shed blood on the cross, the basis of the new covenant. Second, the early church practiced the Lord’s Supper probably weekly, in conjunction with the love feast (see 1 Cor. 11:18–22; cf. Jude 12). A twofold meaning is attached to the Lord’s Supper by the NT authors. First, it involves participation in Christ’s salvation (Luke 22:19; 1 Cor. 11:24–25), and in two ways: participating in the Lord’s Supper looks back to the death of Jesus, in which the believer now shares; participating in the Lord’s Supper looks forward to Christ’s return, the culmination point of the believer’s salvation. Second, the Lord’s Supper involves identification with the body of Christ, the community of faith (1 Cor. 10:16–17; 11:27–33).

Worship

The ultimate purpose of the church is to worship God through Christ and in the power of the Holy Spirit (see, e.g., Rev. 4–5). The early church first worshiped in the Jerusalem temple (Acts 2:46; 3:1; 5:42) as well as in the synagogue (Acts 22:19; cf. John 9:22; James 2:2). At the same time, and into the near future, believers met in homes for worship (Acts 1:13; 2:46; 5:42; cf. Rom. 16:15; Col. 4:15; Philem. 2; 2 John 10; 3 John 1, 6). Although many Jewish Christians no doubt continued to worship God on the Sabbath, the established time for the church’s worship came to be Sunday, the day of Jesus’ resurrection (Acts 20:7; Rev. 1:10). The early church most probably patterned its order of worship after the synagogue service: praise in prayer (Acts 2:42, 47; 3:1; 1 Thess. 1:2; 5:17) and in song (1 Cor. 14:26; Phil. 2:6–11; Col. 1:15–20), the expounding of Scripture (Acts 2:42; 6:4; Col. 4:16; 1 Thess. 2:13; 1 Tim. 4:13), and almsgiving to the needy (Acts 2:44–45; 1 Cor. 16:1–2; 2 Cor. 8–9; James 2:15–17).

Service and Organization

Five observations emerge from the NT regarding the service and organization of the early church. First, the ministry of the church centers on its usage of spiritual gifts, which are given to believers by God’s grace and for his glory as well as for the good of others (Rom. 12:3; Eph. 4:7–16). Second, every believer possesses a gift of the Spirit (1 Cor. 12:7; Eph. 4:7). Third, it is through the diversity of the gifts that the body of Christ matures and is unified (Rom. 12:4; 1 Cor. 12:12–31; Eph. 4:17–18). Fourth, although there was organized leadership in the NT church, including elders (1 Tim. 3:1–7 [also called “pastors” and “bishops”; see Acts 20:17, 28; 1 Pet. 5:1–4]) and deacons (1 Tim. 3:8–13), there does not seem to have been a gap between the “clergy” and the “laity” in the church of the first century; rather, those with the gift of leadership are called to equip all the saints for the work of the ministry (Eph. 4:7–16). Fifth, spiritual gifts are to be exercised in love (1 Cor. 13).

Death is commonly defined as the end of physical life, wherein the normal biological processes associated with life (such as respiration) cease. This definition, however, does not adequately encompass the varied nuances associated with death in the Bible.

The Beginning of Death

Death is introduced in the Bible as the penalty for transgressing the prohibition against eating the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil—a contrast to Mesopotamia, where death was part of the divine design of human beings. In Gen. 2:16–17 God tells the first man, “When you eat from [the fruit of the tree] you will certainly die.” The consequences of eating provide a useful basis for discussing the nature of death from a biblical perspective.

First, as is apparent from the subsequent narrative, neither the man nor the woman experiences physical, biological death immediately after eating the fruit. In this way, Gen. 2–3 reflects the common biblical notion that death refers to more than just biological death, pointing to the more significant aspect of death that embodies alienation and separation from the source of life, God. The point is presupposed by Jesus when he offers life to those who are dead (John 5:24), and by Paul when he proclaims that before Christ all were dead in their sins and transgressions (Eph. 2:1, 5). It is also reflected in the common punishment prescribed in the Pentateuch whereby offenders were cut off from the people (Gen. 17:14; Exod. 12:15, 19; 30:38; cf. Gen. 9:11; Exod. 9:15). Within Gen. 2–3, death arrives with loss of access to the tree of life in the garden. Biologically, the first man and woman may continue to live for a while outside the garden, but their fate is sealed when they are cut off from the garden and the intimate fellowship with the Creator that had been enjoyed therein.

Second, the strong implication of Gen. 2:16–17 is that human beings, as originally created, were not subject to death (see also Rom. 5:12; 6:23; 1 Cor. 15:21). This does not mean that they were immortal in the same manner as God (cf. 1 Tim. 6:16), but rather that they were contingently immortal: they were not subject to death but sustained by their relationship to the life-giving God through the provision of the tree of life (cf. Rev. 2:7; 22:2, 14). Once they were cut off from the source of life, death ensued.

The account of the arrival of death in Gen. 3, however, tells us little about how death affected animals, since the Bible consistently presents a predominantly human focus. While Eccles. 3:21 affirms human ignorance over the relative postmortem fate of humans and animals, little else is said on the matter. Similarly, it is not entirely clear whether death is introduced as a punishment for sin for humans only (and so whether animals could have died prior to the fall) or whether animals were perceived as sharing in immortality prior to the fall.

Death in the Old Testament

Death is frequently depicted negatively throughout the OT. Aside from its initial presentation as a divine punishment for sin, it is presented as that which seeks out and devours life and is terrifying (Pss. 18:4–5; 55:4; Prov. 30:15–16; Hab. 2:5). For the author of Ecclesiastes, death is that which ultimately undermines any possible value that life may otherwise have (e.g., Eccles. 9:3). The tragedy of death, in the OT, is that it results in separation, from God (as noted above in the context of Gen. 2–3) and from people. The psalms, for example, frequently cite the finality and profundity of death’s effects (e.g., Pss. 6:5; 88:5; 115:17; cf. Isa. 38:18). Even those few passages that appear to present death more positively (e.g., Job 3:13, 17) ultimately serve to highlight the appalling circumstances of the speaker’s life rather than any blessed state of the dead (for a similar idea in the NT, see Rev. 9:6).

The OT does, however, depict death as the natural end of life, and a good death as one that arrives only after a long and prosperous life. So Abraham (Gen. 25:8), Isaac (Gen. 35:29), and Job (Job 42:16–17) are said to live long lives before they die. Furthermore, some passages refer to the person being “gathered to his people,” suggesting some form of reunion with previous generations in death, presumably in Sheol, although the location and state of the dead are never explicated. Isaiah can even include the idea of death within language used to describe the ideal future world (Isa. 65:20).

Although there are no laws relating to the manner in which the bodies of the dead were to be handled, all the descriptive indicators show that burial was normative, often in a family tomb or plot (e.g., Gen. 23; cf. 1 Kings 13:22). Indeed, the importance of an appropriate burial is apparent in Ecclesiastes’ comment that a stillborn child is better off than someone who lives a long life but receives no burial (Eccles. 6:3) and in the prophets’ presentation of those not buried as being accursed (Jer. 8:2; 14:16; 16:4).

Life after Death in the Old Testament

Belief in some form of postmortem existence was common in many parts of the ancient world. In Egypt, an elaborate set of beliefs relating to the state of those who had died included the possibility of an ongoing existence that could even surpass what one may have experienced before death (although such an opportunity was a reasonable expectation only for the upper classes, while the general population probably had more modest expectations of the nature of their existence in the afterlife). By way of contrast, Mesopotamian beliefs depicted a far darker and more troubling afterlife for all but the very few whose lives and deaths were sufficiently blessed to ensure them some degree of postmortem comfort. For the remainder, there was little hope for any positive experience following death.

The OT, however, has little to say about the state of those who have died. The widespread belief in some form of continued existence beyond biological death in the ancient world suggests that, in the absence of contrary data in the Bible, the people of Israel probably assumed that some aspect of a person persisted beyond death. Furthermore, there are hints that this may have been the case, such as the raising of Samuel’s shade by the medium at Endor (1 Sam. 28), the escape from death of Enoch (Gen. 5:24) and Elijah (2 Kings 2:11), the revivification of the body dropped on Elisha’s bones (2 Kings 13:21), and expressions used to refer to death such as “gathered to his people” (Gen. 25:8, 17; 35:29; 49:29; Num. 27:13; Deut. 32:50; cf. Gen. 47:30; Deut. 31:16). The dead (sometimes referred to by the term repa’im, “shades/spirits of the dead”) were thought to dwell in Sheol, generally described as under the earth (e.g., Ezek. 31:14). Beyond this, there are prophetic expectations that God will ultimately destroy death (e.g., Isa. 25:8), and that God does not take pleasure in anyone’s death (Ezek. 18:23, 32).

Death in the New Testament

The NT continues, and in some places expands upon, the negative view of death presented in the OT. The notion that death is a consequence of and punishment for the sinful state that imprisons all humanity is stated emphatically (e.g., Rom. 3:23; 6:23) and reinforced by the notion that, although biologically alive, sinful humans are dead in their sin and so incapable of reviving themselves (Eph. 2:1). Death, according to Paul, is the last enemy (1 Cor. 15:26), and yet to die is gain (Phil. 1:21–24) because it heralds being with Christ, which, explains Paul, “is better by far” than being alive in this body in this world.

Central to both the message of the Bible and to the significance of death in the Bible is the death of the Messiah, God’s Son. Jesus’ death provides the basis for countering the consequences of the original rebellion against God by the first couple (2 Cor. 5:21). Consequently, Paul could write that Jesus’ death itself destroyed death (2 Tim. 1:10). Furthermore, the life that Jesus offers—eternal life—is available to the believer in the present (John 3:36; 5:24), prior to the time when death is ultimately abolished, such that Jesus could assert that all those who believe in him will live even though they die (John 11:25–26).

The NT expands somewhat on the details relating to the state of the dead from the OT. For one thing, the existence of an afterlife is clearly presented. Furthermore, the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19–31) reflects a more comprehensive understanding of the existence of distinctions among those who have died, such that the rich man is said to be suffering in Hades (Gk. hadēs, used in the LXX to translate Heb. she’ol in the OT), while Lazarus is far off with Abraham and being comforted. Although there is a danger in reading too much into a parable, the detail appears to reflect something of the expanded understanding of the afterlife among some in Jesus’ day.

The NT makes several references to a “second death” (Rev. 2:11; 20:6, 14; 21:8; cf. Jude 12). The expression refers to the state of eternal judgment under God’s wrath, a death from which there will be no escape. But those who remain faithful to Christ will not experience this second death (Rev. 20:6), and in their dwelling place with God, the new Jerusalem, death will be no more (21:4).

Traditionally appearing after Matthew, Mark, and Luke in the NT canon, the Gospel of John is also referred to as the Fourth Gospel. Because of its many unique features, John is often discussed in distinction from the other three Gospels, which are grouped together as the Synoptic Gospels.

Authorship

Technically, the Gospel of John is anonymous. The author, however, identifies himself with the Beloved Disciple (21:24). In light of the nearly unanimous testimony of the early church that the Fourth Gospel was penned by the apostle John, the son of Zebedee, and that no formidable argument has been set forth against this position, the majority of conservative scholars agree that the Beloved Disciple is John the apostle.

Evidence for apostolic authorship is multifaceted. First, the external evidence weighs heavily in favor of the traditional view that John the apostle penned this Gospel. There is some evidence that title pages with an accompanying ascription identifying the author date back very close to the time of the origin of the Gospels themselves. Such ascriptions may have been necessitated as a means of distinguishing the Gospels from one another. With regard to the Fourth Gospel, the earliest manuscripts uniformly ascribe it to the apostle John.

The evidence from the early church fathers also supports the traditional viewpoint. Ignatius appears to have been familiar with the language of the Fourth Gospel. Also, the Shepherd of Hermas alludes to it. Justin appears to be the first orthodox writer to quote John (1 Apol. 61.4–5, quoting from John 3:3–5). Irenaeus is the first to overtly assert Johannine authorship: “John the disciple of the Lord, who leaned back on his breast, published the Gospel while he was resident at Ephesus in Asia” (Haer. 3.1.1). This position finds further support in Tertullian and Clement of Alexandria (c. AD 200). The Muratorian Canon (AD 180–200) tells us that John was urged by his disciples, and that Andrew had a dream that John should write. Eusebius’s silence on the questions of the authenticity, authorship, and canonicity of John speaks loudly, since it was his objective to address the doubtful cases. In all, there is unquestioned acceptance by the end of the second century that the Fourth Gospel was written by John the apostle.

Second, the internal evidence corresponds with the identification of John the son of Zebedee as the author in that he appears to meet all the requirements for authorship. John was one of the Twelve and, along with Peter and James, a member of the inner circle of Jesus’ disciples. This close association with Peter makes John the best candidate for the Beloved Disciple. Also, the call narrative of 1:35–51, when compared with Mark 1:16–20, supports the identification of the unnamed disciple with John. Several personal allusions in the Fourth Gospel are best accounted for if the author is John the apostle. For example, in 1:14; 19:35 the author suggests that he has personally witnessed Jesus. The author provides details that suggest this Gospel was written by an eyewitness, and some of these details serve no purpose except to affirm that an eyewitness saw or experienced them. These include a proclivity for specifying the time or day of an event (1:19–28, 29, 35, 39, 43; 2:1; 4:6, 52; 18:28; 19:14; 20:19); the number of water jars (six) at Cana (2:6); the distance (twenty-five or thirty stadia) that the disciples rowed (6:19); the number of fish (153) caught (21:11); and the distance of the boat from land at the postresurrection appearance of Jesus (21:8, 11).

Furthermore, the author of the Fourth Gospel is aware of Jewish customs and history as well as the geography of first-century Palestine. This too accords with our knowledge of John the apostle. For example, he is aware of customs regarding cleansing (2:6), laws concerning the Sabbath (5:10), and the Feast of Tabernacles (7:37). The writer of the Fourth Gospel is also familiar with history (the number of years spent rebuilding the temple [2:20]), Jewish politics (the attitude toward Samaritans [4:9]), Jewish authorities (Annas and Caiaphas [18:13]), and the geography of Palestine (the pool at Bethesda with five porticoes [5:2], the Pool of Siloam [9:7], Sychar [4:5], the two Bethanys [1:28; 11:1, 18; 12:1], Ephraim [11:54]).

The question remains as to why the apostle John would have written anonymously and used such a cryptic means of identifying himself as “the beloved disciple” (21:20; NIV: “the disciple whom Jesus loved”). It is conceivable that John’s readers knew his name, and that in keeping with the Semitic custom of anonymity, John used this alternative designation. Why, though, in an effort to humbly remain anonymous, would someone choose a designation that seemingly connotes superiority?

In response, some have suggested that John may have used the title with a sense of wonder about how Jesus loved him. The stress would then be one of amazement: John, instead of mentioning his own name, draws attention to what he owes Jesus. This title is also combined with other, more modest titles: “another disciple” (18:15); “the other disciple” (20:2); “the man who saw it” (19:35). Finally, others have noted that the designation “the beloved disciple” may simply have been a title by which John was known throughout the churches of Asia.

Furthermore, if the apostle John is not the author of the Fourth Gospel, then we must account for his absence from the narrative. The failure to mention James and John (aside from the somewhat passing reference to the “sons of Zebedee” [21:2]) is striking. According to the Synoptic Gospels, these brothers are two of the most prominent disciples in the ministry of Jesus. If John’s readers were familiar with James and John and their general role in the life of Jesus, then by not naming himself, John could keep his own role subordinate in the narrative. John, as an eyewitness, needed to mention himself, for doing so would help to establish the historical credibility of this Gospel. This designation allowed him to write a biography of Christ and not mention himself by name.

Time and Place of Writing

Though the conclusion is ultimately uncertain, it is widely believed that John penned the Fourth Gospel from Ephesus somewhat late in the first century (c. AD 85–95). It appears from 21:19, 23 that a measure of time has gone by, and that Peter has already died. It has been argued that the Gospel of John was written before the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem in AD 70 (on the basis of references suggesting that the temple is still standing [cf. 5:2]), but this argument from silence does not necessarily establish the point that it attempts to prove. Supporting a date late in the first century is the external evidence. The early church fathers claimed that John was written last, at the urging of his disciples, and that he wrote from Ephesus.

The suggestion that John was written sometime well into the second century has been rejected by nearly all scholars. The discovery of a very early manuscript, P52 (dated around AD 125), confirms that the Fourth Gospel was written and circulating early in the second century. Copies of the Bodmer Papyri P66 and P75 further establish that the Gospel of John was circulating in Egypt as early as AD 140.

Outline

I. Prologue (1:1–18)

II. Preparation for Jesus’ Ministry (1:19–51)

III. Jesus’ Public Ministry: Signs and Teaching (2:1–12:50)

IV. The Last Supper and Farewell Discourse (13:1–17:26)

V. The Passion and Resurrection Narratives (18:1–21:25)

Purpose and Message

The Gospel of John states its purpose in 20:31: “But these [signs] are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.” The Greek text of this verse is relatively ambiguous (something that was noticed from a very early date and has resulted in some discrepancy among the earliest manuscripts). It raises the question of whether John wrote so that his readers might come to believe or that they should continue in their belief. A number of leading scholars have concluded that John was intentionally ambiguous and that he wrote with both purposes in mind.

The Gospel of John clearly focuses on the person, work, and identity of Jesus Christ. John intends to clarify and affirm exactly who the Messiah/Christ/Son of God really was and why he came. For John, the answer is evident: Jesus Christ is the physical manifestation of God, and he came to be crucified.

The thesis statement of the Fourth Gospel appears at the close of the opening prologue: “the one and only Son, who is himself God” has “made him [the Father] known” (1:18). John demonstrates this by affirming that what God is, the Word is (1:1); what the Father does, the Son does (5:19); the Son and the Father are one (10:30); the Son speaks what the Father has told him (8:28; 12:49; 14:10); and the Son is in the Father, and the Father is in the Son (14:10–11). The climactic statement, then, is Jesus’ proclamation: “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father” (14:9).

Several proposals have set forth various secondary intentions for the Gospel of John. Many of these have some measure of legitimacy, though it is difficult to establish any of them as forthright in the mind of John. For example, it has been suggested that the Fourth Gospel was written to combat a growing form of gnosticism. Although this Gospel has traces of evidence that support this contention, and there is even some external evidence in its favor, it is difficult to establish that this was an explicit intention of John. Gnosticism as a developed system did not arise until the second century. Others have argued that this Gospel was written as an anti-Jewish polemic. A close reading, however, suggests that this was not one of John’s purposes. Perhaps the most plausible secondary proposition is that John’s Gospel was written to complement the Synoptic Gospels.

John and the Synoptics

The relationship between John and the Synoptics is essential for our understanding of the Fourth Gospel. That John is independent from the Synoptics is evident in that the Fourth Gospel has a detailed knowledge of events beyond those recorded in the Synoptics. John knows of lengthy discourses after miracles (e.g., 6:26–58), a wedding in Cana (2:1–11), conversations with Nicodemus (3:1–21) and a Samaritan woman (4:7–37), repeated confrontations with the Jews (e.g., 8:12–59), the raising of Lazarus from death (11:1–44), and more. Nothing in chapters 3–5 is paralleled in the Synoptics; and of the material in chapters 1–5, only the ministry of John the Baptist and the cleansing of the temple are found in the Synoptics. Compared to the Synoptics, John has a distinct vocabulary (e.g., truth, witness, abide, love, believe, light, life).

Also in contrast to the Synoptics, John focuses on Jesus’ ministry in Jerusalem, has Jesus beginning his ministry before the arrest of John the Baptist (3:22–24 [cf. Mark 1:14]), shows Jesus’ ministry being of longer duration than in the Synoptics, records no parables of Jesus and no transfiguration, and scarcely mentions the kingdom of God (3:3, 5; 18:36). Furthermore, John’s theology and explicit identification of Jesus with God are unique among the Gospels.

Despite the differences, however, the Gospel of John reflects significant parallels with the Synoptic accounts. John is aware of the Synoptic traditions regarding the Spirit’s anointing (1:32–33), John the Baptist (1:19–34; 3:22–36), the feeding of the five thousand (6:1–13), and Jesus’ walking on water (6:15–21). Furthermore, the Fourth Gospel seemingly intends to explain features that are obscure in the Synoptics. For example, why did the disciples follow Jesus when he came to them and said, “Follow me”? John explains that many of them were disciples of John the Baptist, and that they had met Jesus earlier (1:19–51). That Jesus had an extensive ministry in Judea explains why the Jerusalem authorities were so angry with Jesus and were plotting to kill him when he came into Jerusalem for the Passover. The central charge that Jesus taught against the temple (cf. Mark 14:58; 15:29) is also explained by John.

In all, it appears that John and his readers were aware of the Synoptics. John may even have been written to complement them and to explain aspects of the Synoptic accounts that were obscure. Thus, the parenthetical insertions in 3:24 and 11:2 may have been intended for readers who were familiar with the Gospel of Mark. Most significantly, John complements the Synoptics by presenting the significance of the person of Jesus beyond what is found in the Synoptics.

Jesus in the Gospel of John

The most significant feature of John is its high Christology. John intends to specify precisely the person and identity of Christ. The equating of Jesus with God undergirds the entire Fourth Gospel. In no other Gospel is Jesus so clearly identified as God. The Gospel begins with the affirmation that the Word was in the beginning with God, and “the Word was God” (1:1). Later, Thomas confesses Jesus as “my Lord and my God” (20:28).

John, however, identifies Jesus with a wide variety of titles and designations. He is the Word (1:1, 14), the one and only God (1:18), the one and only Son (3:16, 18), the Son of God (1:34, 49; 11:27; 20:31), the Son of Man (3:13–14; 5:19–27), the teacher from God (3:2), the prophet (4:19; 6:14; 7:40; 9:17), the Messiah (1:41; 4:29; 11:27; 20:31), the King of Israel (1:49; 6:15; 12:13), the King of the Jews (19:19), the Holy One of God (6:69), the Lamb of God (1:29, 36), the coming one (11:27; 12:13), the sent one of God (3:16–17, 34; 5:30; 7:16–18; 10:36), the I Am (see below), Paraclete (14:16), rabbi (20:16), Lord (6:68; 20:18; 21:7), and Lord and God (20:28).

Perhaps the most significant title applied to Jesus is the identification of him with the divine name for God: “I Am” (Gk. egō eimi [cf. Exod. 3:14]). John employs this designation for Jesus to buttress his claims that he can work, speak, and act in the Father’s role. On seven occasions, the “I am” is followed by a predicate: bread of life (6:35); light of the world (8:12); gate (10:9); good shepherd (10:11, 14); resurrection and the life (11:25); the way, the truth, and the life (14:6); true vine (15:1, 5).

John also employs the phrase “I am” in an absolute construction (i.e., without a predicate) in parallel to use in the LXX as a title for God. On some of these occasions, John uses the absolute construction as a common means of identification (18:5–8). Most intriguing, however, is John’s employment of this designation in the extended dialogue with the Jewish authorities (8:24, 28, 58). In 8:24, 28 the sense seems incomplete, and the form is more a title. This becomes explicit only when compared with the final and most significant use of this title in 8:58. On this occasion, Jesus’ intent is not missed, and the Jews respond with the desire to stone him for blasphemy (8:59).

The Old Testament in the Gospel of John

The Gospel of John has only fourteen direct references to the OT, fewer than any of the Synoptics. Nonetheless, one of the key features of John’s portrait of Jesus is Jesus’ fulfillment of the OT not just as the Messiah but also in terms of the institutions, symbols, and festivals of Judaism. In Jesus “the old has gone, the new is here” (2 Cor. 5:17). Thus, in John’s Gospel the old purifications are replaced with the new wine (2:1–11), the old temple with the new temple (2:12–25), the old birth with the new birth (3:1–21), the old water with the living water (4:7–15), and worship in Jerusalem and Gerizim with worship “in the Spirit and in truth” (4:20–24). Often Jesus’ activities are dated in relation to a feast. Throughout chapters 5–10, John affirms that Jesus has fulfilled and replaced the Jewish festivals—Sabbath: related to work (5:1–47); Feast of Passover: bread (6:1–71); Feast of Tabernacles: water and light (7:1–9:41); Feast of Dedication: temple (10:22–39).

Also, John builds upon a typological emphasis of Jesus. He is the true temple (2:21), the antitype of the bronze serpent (3:14), the true manna (6:32–35), the true water-giving rock (7:37), and the new Torah (13:34). Thus, the entire Gospel is framed around Jesus’ visits to Jerusalem, where John presents Jesus as the fulfillment of Israel’s hope and central to the life of the nation. Furthermore, this Gospel is replete with references to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Moses. Despite the relative lack of OT citations, the message of the OT is interwoven into the substructure of the Fourth Gospel.

Symbols and the Gospel of John

Closely related to understanding the Gospel of John and the OT is the manner in which John utilizes symbols to convey his message. For example, water often signifies life, cleansing, refreshment, renewal, the newness that Jesus ushers in, and ultimately the life-giving Spirit. Thus, Nicodemus must be reborn in water and the Spirit (3:5). Jesus turns water into wine (2:8) and promises living water to the woman at the well (4:10).

John also sees in Jesus’ miracles a greater significance than appears from the physical phenomena. Thus, he uses the designation “signs” (see, e.g., 2:11) to reference the miracles of Jesus. By means of this designation, John focuses on the significance of the miracle and not merely the power of Jesus. John informs us that the signs of Jesus are christological; they signify who he is, not merely what he does. For example, from Jesus’ multiplying of the bread we learn that he is the giver of eternal life and the source of our sustenance (6:26–27).

Irony and Misunderstanding in John

Another key to understanding the Gospel of John is found in its use of irony and misunderstanding. Irony is a literary technique evidenced in John in instances in which opponents of Jesus make statements about him that are derogatory, sarcastic, and so forth and yet are more true or meaningful than they suppose. John presents such statements but leaves them unanswered, supposing that his audience will see the deeper truth. For example, many of the Jews missed the very Messiah they were looking for (1:11, 45; 5:39–40); they claim to know where Jesus is from (7:27), and yet they refuse to accept the truth that he is from God (7:28). The most famous use of irony appears in Pilate’s famed “Here is the man!” (19:5).

Misunderstandings are occasions when Jesus makes a remark that is ambiguous or metaphorical and his partner in conversation responds by taking the remark literally, thus showing that the spiritual meaning has eluded that person. John then explains to his readers the true meaning. John uses this technique to bring his readers to a greater knowledge of who Jesus is: God in flesh. Examples of misunderstandings are found in 2:19–21; 3:3–5; 4:10–15, 31–34; 6:32–35, 51–53; 7:33–36; 8:21–22, 31–35, 56–58; 11:11–15, 23–25; 12:32–34; 13:36–38; 14:4–6, 7–9; 16:16–19.

Anti-Semitism in John?

The contention that John displays an anti-Semitic agenda in which the burden for the crucifixion of Jesus is placed on the Jewish people results from a misreading of the Fourth Gospel. A thorough reading of John confirms that the designation “Jews” often reflects the generic term “Israelites.” The term “Jew” is used in a neutral sense in 4:22 (salvation is from the Jews); 8:31; 11:45; 12:11 (many Jews believed); and 2:13; 5:1; 6:4 (feast of the Jews). When the designation “Jew” appears in a negative sense in John, it refers particularly to the Jewish leaders and authorities (7:13; 9:22; 19:38; 20:19). Consequently, John’s use of the term is not based on an inherent degradation of the people, but instead reflects the historical reality of Jesus’ confrontation with Jewish authorities.

That John does not place all the blame on the Jews in an effort to exonerate the Romans is also evident from the fact that Pilate is portrayed as one who disregards justice. He has an innocent man beaten and crucified (“I find no basis for a charge against him” [19:6]). John does not record this cry from the Jewish people: “His blood be on us and on our children” (Matt. 27:25 ESV, NRSV). Consequently, the charge of anti-Semitism in the Gospel of John is unfounded.

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.

Judgment Day in the Bible

The book of Revelation concludes with a harrowing vision of final judgment. On that day, when the God of all creation sits on his great white throne and holds court, the dead will rise and answer for their deeds, whether good or bad (20:11–13). The record of each person’s conduct appears in books, one of which is the Book of Life (20:12–13). Anyone whose name does not appear in the Book of Life is thrown into the lake of fire (20:15).

The apostle Paul refers to this same event in Acts 17:30–31. All human beings will face their scheduled day in court, as God certified by raising Christ from the dead. It will be a day of wrath, among other things, when God’s righteous anger against sin is fully displayed (Rom. 2:5). In the presence of this God, Isaiah proclaimed himself to be ruined because of his sinfulness before the one who is called “Holy, holy, holy” (Isa. 6:1–5). We therefore confess with the author of Hebrews, who says, “It is [and will be] a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (Heb. 10:31).

Many other texts of Scripture forecast the same event: judgment day is coming, and nothing can stop it. They also describe this day in equally frightening terms, anticipating fire, darkness, and weeping for some, but everlasting joy and peace for others. Even Christians will be judged on this day, notwithstanding the promise of everlasting life for everyone who believes (e.g., John 3:16; 5:24; Rom. 3:21–24; 8:1–2; 2 Cor. 5:21). In Rom. 14:10–12 Paul says, “For we will all stand before God’s judgment seat,” at which time, “each of us will give an account of ourselves to God.” Similarly, in 2 Cor. 5:10 Paul warns, “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.”

Justification and Judgment

In these texts, an apparent tension exists between the promise of justification, upon which all Christian hope stands, and the certainty of final judgment, including the judgment of believers. It will not do simply to downplay the one or the other, as if the biblical writers had not really intended one or both of them. These texts say what they say, the good news no less plainly than the bad. Yet, closer inspection shows that the tension is merely apparent.

We must first recognize that Scripture treats piety as the evidence of regeneration and saving faith. Jesus says that a “good tree,” which is a genuine disciple, bears good fruit (Matt. 7:17). That is, the observable righteousness of such a disciple will surpass the hypocritical casuistry of the scribes and Pharisees (Matt. 5:20). On judgment day, therefore, no actual conflict will or ever could arise between the general tendency of the believer’s conduct and his or her position in Christ. Over a lifetime, the believer’s habitual behavior will have differed fundamentally, though never satisfactorily, from that of a lost person. As for unrepentant sinners, they will be sentenced to eternal damnation because of their lawlessness (Rom. 3:9–19). Their conduct demonstrates that they have rejected the gospel and are deserving of wrath (Heb. 2:3). This linkage between justification and right conduct accounts for James’s polemical statement: “You see that a person is considered righteous by what they do and not by faith alone” (James 2:24). Abraham’s positional righteousness, secured by faith in what God would do on his behalf, became publicly evident through his obedience (James 2:21–22).

We should also note the different purpose that God has in judging his church. One aspect of it certainly is to grasp the enormity of our sins, so that we might properly acknowledge the depth of his mercy on that day. But also this judgment will occur in order to mete out the differing rewards that Scripture anticipates for the people of God. The definitive text in this regard is 1 Cor. 3:1–17, which connects the believer’s rewards and losses to the quality of his or her behavior within the body of Christ. Some are building on Christ, the sure foundation, using the available materials, and they receive their proper reward. Others build selfishly on themselves, with the result that they are saved, “though only as one escaping through the flames” (1 Cor. 3:15). In both cases, however, the question seems to be one of greater and lesser reward, as opposed to salvation or damnation. Even in hell itself, various degrees of suffering come into play. According to Jesus, one can receive a heavy or light “beating” for disobedience, based on one’s prior knowledge of the master’s will (Luke 12:47–48). Judgment day, therefore, should not frighten Christians. Jesus really did suffer the full measure of God’s wrath against our sin. But this day reminds us that we are accountable for what we do as his disciples, and it motivates the evangelism that we are commanded to practice.

The concept of justice pervades the Bible, especially, though not exclusively, the OT. The key biblical terms that convey this concept include mishpat, tsedeq/tsedaqah, yashar in the OT and the dik- word group in the NT (whose noun and verb forms are translated respectively as “righteous” and “justify” or their respective cognates). The biblical concept of justice is an embodiment of two contemporary concepts: righteousness and justice. The former designates compliance with the divine norm, while the latter emphasizes conformity to a societal standard of what is right and equitable. Focusing exclusively on the latter hinders the correct understanding of justice in the biblical sense. Additionally, the biblical understanding of this concept is encumbered by the use of differing English terms to translate the same Hebrew or Greek terms.

Mishpat and Tsedaqah

Mishpat inherently encompasses the idea of judicial activism consisting in the provision of standard criteria (legislation, instructions, directives) for conduct and adjudication, and/or the actual arbitration between parties with the goal of ascertaining culpability or otherwise and administering the requisite sanctions or acquittal. Tsedaqah, on the other hand, emphasizes the established norm of just order for right conduct both in the larger society and for individuals. Whereas mishpat emphasizes the action that seeks to establish or enforce right patterns of behavior for the common good, tsedaqah stresses the practice (or lack thereof) of such a norm in society, or between individuals, or an individual’s compliance with such a norm.

When used in combination as a hendiadys (or word pair), these two terms signify an inherent requirement for conformity to an established norm (whether in the religious sphere or in civil society) or the requirement of loyalty or right conduct between individuals. To the person who stands to benefit from this norm, it approximates a right (i.e., a claim). Conversely, implicit duty is placed upon the person who ensures the conformity to such an established norm. This fact is better appreciated when we reckon with the covenantal nature of requirements for justice in the ancient world, in which both parties have both claim and responsibility. Broadly speaking, this concept also implies good governance, which accrues order to life and common benefits to all members of the community.

This idea is exemplified even in passages that do not use this precise phraseology (mishpat utsedaqah). Judah’s widowed daughter-in-law, Tamar, had an inherent right to be provided with a (kinsman-redeemer) husband to raise up progeny for her deceased husband, while Judah had the incumbent duty of giving her in levirate marriage to his surviving son. When Judah failed to execute his duty, Tamar entrapped him into an incestuous relationship, from which she conceived. When condemned to die for adultery in a clannish court setting, Tamar revealed the identity of her unborn child’s father, to which Judah responded by saying, “She is more righteous than I, since I wouldn’t give her to my son Shelah” (Gen. 38:26). That is, she acted more in conformity to the norm than he did. In another instance, Yahweh, while challenging the Judeans concerning their loyalty to him in a covenant lawsuit setting, asks, “A son honors his father, and a slave his master. If I am a father, where is the honor due me? If I am a master, where is the respect due me?” (Mal. 1:6). It is Yahweh’s right as father and master to receive honor and respect, while it is their duty to give him both.

God as the Source and Model of Justice

To be just, then, implies conformity to that which is right—yashar (the standard or norm). In Scripture, this standard is the revealed divine will and character. Compliance to it is often expressed in biblical narrative as doing what is “right [or good] in the Lord’s sight” (Deut. 6:18; 12:28; 1 Kings 14:8; 22:43), while its antithesis is doing what is “evil in the eyes of the Lord” (Judg. 2:11; 1 Kings 11:6; 14:22) or doing what some human figure(s) “saw fit” (Deut. 12:8; Judg. 17:6; 21:25).

Therefore, the source of justice is God himself. It flows from his essential character as one who is both just and righteous, whose actions are flawless, perfect, upright, and just (Deut. 32:4; 1 Sam. 12:7; 2 Sam. 22:31; Job 37:23; Ps. 89:14). God is the righteous lawgiver, hence the one who establishes the norm for right conduct (Deut. 4:4–8; Ps. 19:7–9). He requires justice of all his creatures (cf. Gen. 9:5–6; Exod. 21:12, 28–29). God also judges righteously (Gen. 18:25; 1 Kings 8:32; Ps. 9:4, 9; Jer. 9:24) and defends and vindicates the weak and oppressed (Deut. 10:18; Ps. 103:6). The responsibility of maintaining justice in the human community, however, he delegates to its leaders, such as civil magistrates or political officials, and requires them to execute this responsibility with integrity, equity, and impartiality (Deut. 1:16–17; 16:18–20; Ps. 82:2–4; Prov. 31:8–9; John 7:24; 1 Pet. 2:13–14). God’s requirement of justice in the human community is not limited to its leaders only; it is incumbent upon everyone therein (Ps. 15:1–5; Mic. 6:8; Zech. 7:9; 8:17; Matt. 23:23).

Executing justice requires doing all that is essential to bring about the divine order implicit in creation and explicit in revealed truth, to produce harmony in all relationships in which humankind is involved (divine-human, human-human, and human-nature). This has the twofold result of restraining evil and advancing the benefits of just living within the human society. Thus, the fruits of justice are to be seen in all spheres of human life, such as spirituality (2 Cor. 5:17–21), morality and ethics (Phil. 4:8; Col. 3:5–9; Titus 2:11–13), social justice (Exod. 22:21–24; Isa. 56:1; Amos 2:6–7; Ezek. 22:7–29; James 2:1–9), and economic justice (Amos 5:11; 8:4–6; James 5:1–6), as well as in the environment (Deut. 20:19–20; Pss. 96:9–13; 104:1–31; Eccles. 2:5–6; Rom. 8:19–22).

Additionally, the outworking of justice produces (re)distribution and retribution. Distribution means that those blessed materially share of their blessings with those in need (Deut. 15:1–15; Ps. 112:5–9; Prov. 28:27; Isa. 58:1–11; 2 Cor. 8–9). Retribution relates to the vindication and deliverance of the oppressed and judgment on the wicked (1 Sam. 2:7–10; Job 36:5–10; Ps. 72:4; Luke 4:17–20). This is both attested in biblical Israel’s experience (Isa. 1:17–20; 5:1–9; Jer. 5:26–29; Mic. 2:1–3) and is being anticipated at the final judgment (Isa. 66:24; Dan. 12:1–3; Matt. 25:31–46; 2 Thess. 1:5–10). The vindicated obtain God’s love and grace, while the judged receive his justice. Justice and love, therefore, are the two sides of God’s holiness.

Justification is an important topic because of its relationship to Christian salvation and sanctification. The word “justification” occurs only five times in the Bible (NIV), but related words comprise significant themes in both Testaments. Part of the difficulty in the exposition of “justification” is English terminology. English has two word groups that express the same conceptual range for single word groups in Hebrew and Greek. So in addition to words related to justification, such as “justly,” “just,” and the very important verb “to justify,” no discussion can avoid the terms “righteous” and “righteousness.” Care must also be exercised in allowing the biblical texts to determine word meaning, since both “justice” and “righteousness” terminology can have contemporary connotations foreign to the biblical texts.

Justification is often related to a legal setting in both Jewish and Greco-Roman contexts, with its judge, defendant, evidence, criteria for evaluating the evidence, verdicts, and the implications of verdicts. This is a good word picture for justification and is used in the Bible itself. As long as the legal picture is extended to everyday affairs, moral and ethical concerns, and different criteria for evidence evaluation, it is a fine starting point for understanding the doctrine of justification.

Common and Extraordinary Justification

The salvific importance of justification has greatly shaped the exposition that follows. Justification has been somewhat awkwardly divided into common and extraordinary justification, with the latter bearing a significant relationship to the doctrine of salvation. The former is discussed only briefly in OT and NT paragraphs. In common justification, a person’s works or deeds are judged according to a standard of righteousness. Righteous deeds are judged and given the verdict “righteous.” Unrighteous deeds are judged and given the verdict “unrighteous.” Extraordinary justification occurs when an unrighteous person or deed is judged and given the verdict “righteous” by some supernatural intervention.

Common justification in the OT may be described in various contexts: (1) in comparative or relative righteousness between humans (e.g., Gen. 38:26; Ezek. 16:51–52); (2) in specific or concrete situations with God as judge (e.g., 2 Chron. 6:23: “Judge between your servants, condemning the guilty and bringing down on their heads what they have done, and vindicating the innocent by treating them in accordance with their innocence”; (3) in specific or concrete situations with a human as judge (e.g., Deut. 25:1: “When people have a dispute, they are to take it to court and the judges will decide the case, acquitting the innocent and condemning the guilty”); (4) in giving justice (e.g., 2 Sam. 15:4; cf. Ps. 82:3); (5) in proving correct or right (e.g., Ps. 51:4; Isa. 43:9).

Extraordinary justification is much rarer in the OT. A possible example is Dan. 8:14, where in a vision the sanctuary is desecrated and after a time “will be reconsecrated” or, in other terms, “will be justified holy.” It seems quite unusual that the unholy “is justified” as holy. In Isa. 45:25 we find the promise that “in the Lord all the offspring of Israel shall be justified” (ESV). Another verse declares that Yahweh’s “righteous servant will justify many, and he will bear their iniquities” (Isa. 53:11). The need for extraordinary justification and the deficiency of ordinary justification is clear in Ps. 143:1–2: “Lord, hear my prayer, listen to my cry for mercy; in your faithfulness and righteousness come to my relief. Do not bring your servant into judgment, for no one living is righteous before you” (cf. Job 4:17; 25:4). The last phrase might be translated “no person will be justified before you” and is cited by the apostle Paul in Gal. 2:16 (cf. Rom. 3:20).

In the NT, there are fewer references to common justification than in the OT and a much greater development of extraordinary justification, predominantly in the Pauline letters (for similar concepts in different terms, see, e.g., “kingdom of God” in the Synoptic Gospels or “eternal life” in the Gospel of John). Common justification in the NT may be described in various contexts: (1) in a specific situation with a human or God as judge and a person’s behavior as the object of judgment (e.g., Luke 16:15; 1 Cor. 4:3–4; perhaps Luke 10:29; 18:9–14); (2) when “wisdom is proved right,” meaning vindicated by the results (Matt. 11:19; Luke 7:35); (3) in the release from demands no longer binding (Rom. 6:7; cf. 1 Cor. 6:1); (4) in being proved morally right in fullness (1 Tim. 3:16; cf. Rom. 3:4).

Paul and Justification

Extraordinary justification in the NT is characteristic of the apostle Paul. Luke’s report of Paul’s synagogue sermon in Pisidian Antioch concludes with a brief overview of extraordinary justification (Acts 13:38–39). Paul proclaims that forgiveness of sins is available through Jesus. Every person trusting in Jesus is being justified “from all things from which you could not be justified by the law of Moses” (NKJV). The forgiveness of sins leads to the verdict “innocent” even though sinners apart from Christ are guilty before God of their unrighteous deeds.

In Gal. 2:16 the verb “justify” is used three times: (1) “a person is not justified by observing the law, but by faith in Jesus Christ”; (2) “we, too, have put our faith in Christ Jesus that we may be justified by faith in Christ and not by the works of the law”; (3) “by the works of the law no one will be justified.” The statements may be paraphrased in the active voice (expressing the implied subject) as in the following: (1) God is justifying a person not by works of Mosaic law, but by trust in Jesus Christ; (2) God justified us by trust in Christ, not by works of Mosaic law; (3) God will justify no person by works of Mosaic law. In Gal. 2:16, God is the subject, the agent who justifies (cf. 3:8; Rom. 3:26, 30; 4:5; 8:30, 33). The basis of justification is faith in Christ, not works of the Mosaic law. The meaning of the verb “justify” may be discerned from the context. This justification is related to the gospel (e.g., Gal. 2:14) and to receiving the Spirit (Gal. 3:2, 14), and the verdict of “righteous” for the person trusting in Jesus (Gal. 2:21; cf. 3:6, 11; 5:5; 1 Cor. 1:30; 2 Cor. 5:21).

Justification and righteousness are important themes in Paul’s letter to the Romans. At the beginning of the letter, Paul declares that he is not ashamed of the gospel because it is the power of God that brings salvation to all who believe. In the gospel the righteousness of God is revealed, a righteousness that is by faith (Rom. 1:16–17). Paul argues in Rom. 1:18–3:20, a section abounding with righteousness language, that all humanity, Gentile and Jew, is under the power of sin (3:10), that no one is righteous (e.g., 3:10–18). All are subject to condemnation (i.e., the declaration of “guilty” and “unrighteous” [cf. 5:16]) rather than justification (i.e., the declaration of “innocent” and “righteous”). No human will be justified before God by works of the law; the law provides knowledge of sin (3:20).

The state resulting from this unrighteousness and sin is God’s wrath (e.g., Rom. 1:18). It is into this situation, this sad state of affairs where all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, that the righteousness of God, God’s saving activity long anticipated in the OT, is revealed in the person and work of Jesus Christ (3:21; 10:3). This righteousness is from God (3:22), a righteousness not related to human fulfillment of Mosaic law or righteousness of one’s own (Rom. 3:21; 9:31–32; 10:4; Phil. 3:6, 9; cf. Eph. 2:8–9). This righteousness comes from God by trust in Christ (Rom. 3:22; 5:1; 9:30; 10:10; Phil. 3:9). By trust in Christ, God justifies each human in his freely given grace, whereby the human is redeemed from unrighteousness and sin (Rom. 3:24).

The death of Jesus is the sacrifice of atonement by which forgiveness of sins is accomplished and made effectual in the human when one trusts in Jesus’ sacrifice (Rom. 3:25). This sacrifice demonstrates God’s righteousness (3:26) because he justly judges human sin in Jesus. The one who had no sin of his own became sin for us (2 Cor. 5:21; cf. Rom. 5:6, 8; 1 Cor. 15:3). In merciful forbearance, God passes over sins previously committed, delaying the execution of his justice, that he might justify the ungodly person who trusts in Jesus’ person and work (Rom. 3:26; cf. 4:5). This justification is of a different nature than ordinary righteousness on the human level or of the kind that can be obtained by observing the Mosaic law. In this extraordinary justification, God reckons a human innocent of sin and righteous by trust and apart from works of Mosaic law (3:28). Both Jew and Gentile are reckoned righteous under the same condition: trust in Jesus (3:29–30).

Although the revelation of the person and work of Jesus the Messiah was relatively new at the time Paul wrote his letter to the Romans, Paul emphasizes in Rom. 4 that this idea of justification by trust and not by works goes back to the forefather of the Jews, Abraham. Quoting Gen. 15:6, Paul demonstrates from Scripture that trust, not works, was the basis of extraordinary justification: Abraham believes God, and it is credited to him as righteousness. God justifies Abraham (i.e., God credits righteousness to Abraham) on the basis of Abraham’s trust in God. Paul also cites most of Ps. 32:1–2, from a Davidic psalm, to further demonstrate the consistency of justification by faith with previous revelation. In this quotation the crediting of righteousness apart from works is related to the forgiveness of transgression, where the verdict of the guilty becomes “innocent.” “He was delivered over to death for our sins and was raised to life for our justification” (Rom. 4:25). Extraordinary justification of unrighteous sinners leads to the twofold verdict: innocent and righteous.

Titus 3:3–6 expresses the same doctrine of extraordinary justification. Humanity is under sin when Jesus appears. God saves in his mercy through Jesus, not on the basis of righteous human works. This saving activity is equivalent to being justified by Jesus’ grace (3:7).

James and Justification

There are three references to justification in James 2:14–26, which appear at first glance to contradict extraordinary justification as presented by Paul. In support of the claim that faith without deeds is useless (James 2:20), two questions are asked: Was not Abraham considered righteous for what he did, and was not Rahab the prostitute considered righteous for what she did (i.e., justified by works) (2:21, 25)? James 2:24 rephrases this as a proposition: a person is justified by what he or she does, not by faith alone. The context of 2:14–26 demonstrates that although the terms “faith,” “works,” and “justification” are the same as Paul’s, they have different meanings for James. Faith appears in this passage as mere knowledge (2:19), without any implications for living (2:14–18). For Paul, faith is a radical commitment of trust that submits one’s entire life under the lordship of Christ, something much different from the mere belief portrayed as faith by James. Deeds or works in the James passage are the concrete manifestations of what one believes (2:18). Works in the Pauline justification passages are set in opposition to trust in the person and work of the Lord Jesus. Outside of the justification context, Paul is an advocate of works properly related to faith, righteousness, and holiness (e.g., Eph. 2:10; 1 Thess. 1:3; cf. Rom. 1:5; 6:1–23; 8:4; 12:1–2). Justification is also different. Pauline justification most commonly relates to the extraordinary justification of declaring unrighteous sinners “innocent” and “righteous” based on trust in Christ. Justification in James has greater ties to common justification, focusing on the righteousness of a specific act at a specific time.

Other Views on Justification

Shortly after the age of the apostles, the doctrine of justification was deemphasized in many circles of church life in favor of a more moralistic system. One group has repeatedly argued for centuries that justification infuses righteousness into the believer, and then the believer must do good works to complete justification. This conception fails to differentiate between sanctification and justification and also misrepresents justification. In justification God declares the believer innocent and righteous, forgiving sin by means of Christ’s sacrifice and imputing Christ’s righteousness to the believer. This is not “legal fiction,” since justification has past, present, and future aspects (Rom. 3:30; 8:30–34; Gal. 2:16; 5:5). Believers have been, are being, and will be justified by faith in Christ Jesus. Recently, some have claimed that justification is related exclusively to the inclusion of Gentiles into the people of God without “works of the law,” racial and national identity markers (e.g., circumcision or food laws). Among the weaknesses of this view, the key one is that both Jew and Gentile are in need of extraordinary justification (Rom. 3:9, 19–20, 23–26, 30; 9:30–10:13; Gal. 2:15–3:14).

Judgment Day in the Bible

The book of Revelation concludes with a harrowing vision of final judgment. On that day, when the God of all creation sits on his great white throne and holds court, the dead will rise and answer for their deeds, whether good or bad (20:11–13). The record of each person’s conduct appears in books, one of which is the Book of Life (20:12–13). Anyone whose name does not appear in the Book of Life is thrown into the lake of fire (20:15).

The apostle Paul refers to this same event in Acts 17:30–31. All human beings will face their scheduled day in court, as God certified by raising Christ from the dead. It will be a day of wrath, among other things, when God’s righteous anger against sin is fully displayed (Rom. 2:5). In the presence of this God, Isaiah proclaimed himself to be ruined because of his sinfulness before the one who is called “Holy, holy, holy” (Isa. 6:1–5). We therefore confess with the author of Hebrews, who says, “It is [and will be] a dreadful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (Heb. 10:31).

Many other texts of Scripture forecast the same event: judgment day is coming, and nothing can stop it. They also describe this day in equally frightening terms, anticipating fire, darkness, and weeping for some, but everlasting joy and peace for others. Even Christians will be judged on this day, notwithstanding the promise of everlasting life for everyone who believes (e.g., John 3:16; 5:24; Rom. 3:21–24; 8:1–2; 2 Cor. 5:21). In Rom. 14:10–12 Paul says, “For we will all stand before God’s judgment seat,” at which time, “each of us will give an account of ourselves to God.” Similarly, in 2 Cor. 5:10 Paul warns, “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one of us may receive what is due us for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.”

Justification and Judgment

In these texts, an apparent tension exists between the promise of justification, upon which all Christian hope stands, and the certainty of final judgment, including the judgment of believers. It will not do simply to downplay the one or the other, as if the biblical writers had not really intended one or both of them. These texts say what they say, the good news no less plainly than the bad. Yet, closer inspection shows that the tension is merely apparent.

We must first recognize that Scripture treats piety as the evidence of regeneration and saving faith. Jesus says that a “good tree,” which is a genuine disciple, bears good fruit (Matt. 7:17). That is, the observable righteousness of such a disciple will surpass the hypocritical casuistry of the scribes and Pharisees (Matt. 5:20). On judgment day, therefore, no actual conflict will or ever could arise between the general tendency of the believer’s conduct and his or her position in Christ. Over a lifetime, the believer’s habitual behavior will have differed fundamentally, though never satisfactorily, from that of a lost person. As for unrepentant sinners, they will be sentenced to eternal damnation because of their lawlessness (Rom. 3:9–19). Their conduct demonstrates that they have rejected the gospel and are deserving of wrath (Heb. 2:3). This linkage between justification and right conduct accounts for James’s polemical statement: “You see that a person is considered righteous by what they do and not by faith alone” (James 2:24). Abraham’s positional righteousness, secured by faith in what God would do on his behalf, became publicly evident through his obedience (James 2:21–22).

We should also note the different purpose that God has in judging his church. One aspect of it certainly is to grasp the enormity of our sins, so that we might properly acknowledge the depth of his mercy on that day. But also this judgment will occur in order to mete out the differing rewards that Scripture anticipates for the people of God. The definitive text in this regard is 1 Cor. 3:1–17, which connects the believer’s rewards and losses to the quality of his or her behavior within the body of Christ. Some are building on Christ, the sure foundation, using the available materials, and they receive their proper reward. Others build selfishly on themselves, with the result that they are saved, “though only as one escaping through the flames” (1 Cor. 3:15). In both cases, however, the question seems to be one of greater and lesser reward, as opposed to salvation or damnation. Even in hell itself, various degrees of suffering come into play. According to Jesus, one can receive a heavy or light “beating” for disobedience, based on one’s prior knowledge of the master’s will (Luke 12:47–48). Judgment day, therefore, should not frighten Christians. Jesus really did suffer the full measure of God’s wrath against our sin. But this day reminds us that we are accountable for what we do as his disciples, and it motivates the evangelism that we are commanded to practice.

A central concept in both Testaments for understanding the way in which God’s people are to respond to him. God desires obedience from his people, in contrast to mere lip service (Isa. 29:13; Matt. 15:8; Mark 7:6) or conformity to religious ritual (Hos. 6:6; Mic. 6:6–8). When Saul disobeyed God by sacrificing some of the spoil from his victory over the Amalekites, Samuel the prophet responded, “To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams” (1 Sam. 15:22).

In the OT, obedience is often expressed in terms of keeping (Heb. shamar [e.g., Exod. 34:11]) or doing (Heb. ’asah [e.g., Lev. 18:4]) God’s commands; other times, obedience is expressed as listening (Heb. shama’) to the voice of God (Exod. 19:5 KJV, NASB), just as a student is obedient by listening to a teacher’s voice (Prov. 5:13 KJV, NASB). When God established the Mosaic covenant with the Israelites, he commanded that they obey the laws set forth in the covenant. If they faithfully obeyed his laws, God would bless them (Deut. 28:1–13); if they were not faithful, he would curse them (Deut. 28:15–68). The subsequent history of Israel sadly chronicles the disobedience of God’s chosen people and the ensuing destruction that they experienced (2 Kings 18:9–12; 2 Chron. 36:11–21), even though God repeatedly warned the people through his prophets that this destruction was coming if they did not turn from their wickedness (e.g., Isa. 1:19–20; Jer. 11:1–8).

In the NT, focus shifts from obedience to the Mosaic law to obedience to Jesus Christ. The Great Commission contains Jesus’ instructions for his own disciples to make disciples, teaching them to “obey” (Gk. tēreō) that which Christ had commanded (Matt. 28:19–20). Jesus’ disciples’ love for him would lead them to obey his commands (John 14:15, 21–24; 1 John 5:3; 2 John 6), and the disciples’ obedience, in turn, would cause them to remain in Jesus’ love (John 15:10). Paul instructs children to obey their parents and slaves to “obey” (Gk. hypakouō) their masters in obedience to Christ (Eph. 6:1, 5–6; Col. 3:20, 22).

The NT also discusses Christ’s perfect obedience to God the Father as a quality to imitate (Phil. 2:5–13) and as the basis for salvation (Rom. 5:19). Since it is only “those who obey the law who will be declared righteous” (Rom. 2:13), and all have sinned (Rom. 3:23), “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21).

A central concept in both Testaments for understanding the way in which God’s people are to respond to him. God desires obedience from his people, in contrast to mere lip service (Isa. 29:13; Matt. 15:8; Mark 7:6) or conformity to religious ritual (Hos. 6:6; Mic. 6:6–8). When Saul disobeyed God by sacrificing some of the spoil from his victory over the Amalekites, Samuel the prophet responded, “To obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed is better than the fat of rams” (1 Sam. 15:22).

In the OT, obedience is often expressed in terms of keeping (Heb. shamar [e.g., Exod. 34:11]) or doing (Heb. ’asah [e.g., Lev. 18:4]) God’s commands; other times, obedience is expressed as listening (Heb. shama’) to the voice of God (Exod. 19:5 KJV, NASB), just as a student is obedient by listening to a teacher’s voice (Prov. 5:13 KJV, NASB). When God established the Mosaic covenant with the Israelites, he commanded that they obey the laws set forth in the covenant. If they faithfully obeyed his laws, God would bless them (Deut. 28:1–13); if they were not faithful, he would curse them (Deut. 28:15–68). The subsequent history of Israel sadly chronicles the disobedience of God’s chosen people and the ensuing destruction that they experienced (2 Kings 18:9–12; 2 Chron. 36:11–21), even though God repeatedly warned the people through his prophets that this destruction was coming if they did not turn from their wickedness (e.g., Isa. 1:19–20; Jer. 11:1–8).

In the NT, focus shifts from obedience to the Mosaic law to obedience to Jesus Christ. The Great Commission contains Jesus’ instructions for his own disciples to make disciples, teaching them to “obey” (Gk. tēreō) that which Christ had commanded (Matt. 28:19–20). Jesus’ disciples’ love for him would lead them to obey his commands (John 14:15, 21–24; 1 John 5:3; 2 John 6), and the disciples’ obedience, in turn, would cause them to remain in Jesus’ love (John 15:10). Paul instructs children to obey their parents and slaves to “obey” (Gk. hypakouō) their masters in obedience to Christ (Eph. 6:1, 5–6; Col. 3:20, 22).

The NT also discusses Christ’s perfect obedience to God the Father as a quality to imitate (Phil. 2:5–13) and as the basis for salvation (Rom. 5:19). Since it is only “those who obey the law who will be declared righteous” (Rom. 2:13), and all have sinned (Rom. 3:23), “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21).

A Pharisee commissioned by Jesus Christ to preach the gospel to Gentiles. His Jewish name was “Saul” (Acts 9:4; 13:9), but he preferred using his Roman name, especially when he signed his letters. Actually, “Paul” was his last name. Roman citizens had three names; the last name was the family name, called the “cognomen.” We do not know Paul’s first and middle Roman name, but his last name is derived from the Latin Paulus (Sergius Paulus, the proconsul of Cyprus, had the same family name [13:7]). Most people were known and called by their last name because group identity was more important in the first-century Mediterranean world than individual recognition. For example, when speaking publicly, Paul did not use his favorite self-designations, “apostle to the Gentiles” or “slave of Christ Jesus”; instead, he identified himself as a Jew, a citizen of Tarsus, a student of Gamaliel (21:39; 22:3). His social identity was embedded in his ethnicity, his nativity, his religion. However, even those categories cannot adequately describe Paul. He was a Jew but also a Roman citizen. Tarsus was his home (11:25–26), but he claimed that he was brought up in Jerusalem. He spoke Aramaic but wrote Greek letters. He was once a Pharisee but then preached a circumcision-free gospel to Gentiles. In many respects, Paul is an enigma. Who was he? What did he believe? Why did he think he had to leave his previous life in Judaism to become the apostle to the Gentiles? Why is he one of the major contributors to the NT even though he was not a follower of the historical Jesus?

Paul’s Life

Paul as a converted Pharisee. Paul spent the first half of his life as a Pharisee. The Pharisees were a Jewish sect that emphasized obedience to the law of God as the means of maintaining holiness. Practically all Jews believed that they should obey the law, but what made the Pharisees unique was their emphasis on applying all commandments, even those intended only for Levites and priests, to all Jews. For example, priests were required to keep certain rituals of hand washing before they ate (Lev. 22:1–9; cf. Exod 30:19–21; 40:31–32). So the Pharisees extended these requirements to all Israel in order to show God how serious they were about obeying the law (Mark 7:3–4). Obedience was crucial to God’s blessing; disobedience brought God’s curse. Therefore, the Pharisees established many traditions, going beyond the letter of the law, to ensure compliance. To what extent the Jewish people followed the example of the Pharisees is debated, but certainly it appeared to the people that no one was more zealous for God and his law than the Pharisees—a zeal that would compel them to join in the stoning of obvious offenders (Lev. 24:14; Acts 7:58). As a Pharisee, Paul’s zeal for the law led him to persecute Jewish Christians, not only in Jerusalem but also outside Israel, in places such as Damascus (Acts 8:3; 9:1–3; 22:4–5; Gal. 1:13–14; Phil. 3:6). Neither Paul nor Luke explains what the Pharisees found objectionable about this Jewish movement known as “the Way.” In fact, Paul’s teacher, Gamaliel, advised the Sanhedrin to ignore members of the Way and not make trouble for them (Acts 5:34–39)—advice obviously not taken by Paul. Perhaps it was Jesus’ reputation as a lawbreaker or the fact that he had died a cursed death according to the law that convinced Paul to imprison Jesus’ disciples (Deut. 21:23). Whatever the reason, Paul saw his role as persecutor of the church as the ultimate proof of his blamelessness under the law (Phil. 3:6).

After Christ appeared to Paul on the road to Damascus, everything changed: his life, his mission, his worldview (Acts 9:3–30). Paul left Pharisaism and immediately began preaching the gospel (Gal. 1:11–17). Those whom he persecuted were now friends. His zeal for the law was replaced by his zeal for Christ. It was a radical reversal. The rumor spread quickly: “The man who formerly persecuted us is now preaching the faith he once tried to destroy” (Gal. 1:23). Why the sudden change? Some think that it is what Paul saw—the glorified Messiah—that changed his perspective. The resurrection of Christ turned the curse of the cross into a blessing, death into life, shame into honor. The appearance of Christ (Christophany) was a revelation, an apocalypse, an end-of-the-world event for Paul. Old things passed away; everything became new (2 Cor. 5:17). What was divided under the old age of the law—Jews and Gentiles, male and female, slave and free—was united in Christ. Other scholars emphasize it is what Paul heard during the Christophany that changed the course of his life. Paul interpreted Christ’s charge, “Go, preach to the Gentiles,” as a prophetic calling, perhaps even fulfilling Isaiah’s end-time vision of salvation of the whole world (Isa. 49:1–7; Gal. 1:15–16). Thus, Paul’s westward push to take the gospel to the coastlands (Spain) was by divine design (Rom. 15:15–24). God commissioned Saul the Pharisee of the Jews to become Paul the apostle to the Gentiles because “the culmination of the ages has come” (1 Cor. 10:11).

Paul’s ministry. By our best estimates, Paul spent about thirty years preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ (AD 34–67)—a ministry that can be divided roughly into three decades. The first decade of his ministry (AD 34–46) has been called the “silent years,” as we have few details from Acts or the Pauline Epistles about his activities. For example, we know that he preached in Damascus for a while and spent some time in Arabia (a total of three years [Gal. 1:17–18]). He made a quick trip to Jerusalem to meet Peter and James the brother of Jesus. Then he returned home to Tarsus, evidently preaching there for several years, until Barnabas brought him to Antioch in Syria to help with the ministry of this mixed congregation of Jews and Gentiles (Acts 9:26–30; 11:25–26). In the second decade of his ministry (AD 46–59), Paul spent most of his life on the road, an itinerant ministry of preaching the gospel and planting churches from Cyprus to Corinth. For most of the third decade (AD 59–67), Paul ministered the gospel from prison, spending over two years imprisoned in Caesarea, another two to three years in a Roman prison (Acts ends here), released for a brief time (two years?) before his final arrest and imprisonment in Rome, where, according to church tradition, he was executed.

During his itinerant ministry, Paul traveled Roman roads that led him to free cities (Ephesus, Thessalonica, Athens) and Roman colonies (Pisidian Antioch, Iconium, Lystra, Derbe, Troas, Philippi, Corinth). Founding churches in urban centers afforded Paul more opportunities for ministry and for his work of making and repairing tents. Traveling within the borders of the Roman Empire also provided a better chance of protection as a citizen. At first, Paul and Barnabas covered familiar territory: Cyprus (Barnabas’s home region) and Anatolia (Paul’s home region). Then, with successive journeys Paul and other missionary companions branched out to Asia Minor, Macedonia, and Achaia. Some of the towns that Paul visited were small and provincial (Derbe, Lystra); others were major cities of great economic and intellectual commerce (Ephesus, Corinth, Athens). In the midst of such cultural diversity, Paul found receptive ears among a variety of ethnic groups: Gauls, Phrygians and Lycaonians, Greeks, Romans, and Jews. Previously, Paul’s Gentile converts had worshiped many gods (local, ethnic, and imperial), offered sacrifices at many shrines and temples, and joined in all the religious festivals (often involving immoral and ungodly practices). After believing the gospel, Paul’s predominantly Gentile churches turned from their idolatrous ways to serve “the living and true God” (1 Thess. 1:9). Their exclusive devotion to one God quickly led to economic and political problems, for both Paul’s converts and the cities of their residence. No more offerings for patron gods, no more support for local synagogues or the imperial cult—Paul’s converts were often persecuted for their newly found faith by local religious guilds (idol makers!) and civic leaders courting Roman favor (Acts 17:6–9; 19:23–41; Phil. 1:27–30; 1 Thess. 2:14–16). Indeed, Paul often was run out of town as a troublemaker who preached a message that threatened both the Jewish and the Roman ways of life (Acts 16:19–24; Phil. 3:17–4:1). It is no wonder that Paul’s activities eventually landed him in a Roman prison. It was only a matter of time before his reputation as a “lawbreaker” caught up with him (Acts 21:21). But that did not stop Paul. Whether as a prisoner or a free man, Paul proclaimed the gospel of Jesus Christ until the day he died.

Paul’s Gospel

The sources of Paul’s gospel. Paul ministered his entire life without the benefit of literary Gospels. Most scholars think that the earliest Gospel, Mark, was written about the time that Paul was martyred. Since Paul was not a disciple of Jesus and probably never heard him speak or witnessed his earthly ministry, how did Paul know what to preach? Where did Paul get his gospel? Paul mentioned four sources. First, he received oral traditions about Jesus from other Christians (1 Cor. 15:1–7). For him, hearing what happened during the Lord’s Supper from those who followed Jesus was the same as receiving it from the Lord (1 Cor. 11:23). Second, the Hebrew Scriptures were a major source of Paul’s gospel (Acts 17:2). Illumined by the Holy Spirit, Paul saw the gospel proclaimed in the law (Rom. 10:6–8) and predicted by the prophets (15:12). Third, in addition to the Christophany on the road to Damascus, Paul experienced revelations of Christ as epiphanies of the gospel (Acts 18:9–10; 26:18). This gave Paul the authority to claim that he received his gospel preeminently from Christ (Gal. 1:1, 16; 2:2). Fourth, Paul saw life experiences as a resource for the gospel (2 Cor. 12:7–10). As Paul made sense of what happened to him, he shared these insights with his converts as proof that “Christ is speaking through me” (2 Cor. 13:3–4). Indeed, Paul’s ways of doing the gospel were to be taught in all the churches as gospel truth (1 Cor. 4:17), because as far as Paul was concerned, the gospel of Jesus Christ was the gospel according to Paul.

The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The center of Paul’s gospel was the death and resurrection of Jesus. The essence of what he preached was “Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor. 2:2). Furthermore, the resurrection of Christ was indispensable to the gospel that Paul proclaimed. Without the resurrection, Paul argued, faith in Christ would be vain because believers would still be dead in their sins with no hope of life after death—the resurrection of their bodies (1 Cor. 15:13–19). Exploring the center, Paul used several metaphors drawn from everyday life to explain the significance of Christ’s work on the cross. Paul used legal terms such as “justification”/“righteousness,” “law,” and “condemnation” when he explained how sinners are justified by faith in Christ. Paul described the implications of Christ’s death in religious terms, using words such as “sacrifice,” “sin,” “propitiation”/“expiation” (NIV: “sacrifice of atonement”), and “temple,” which would make sense to both Jews and Gentiles. He also borrowed words from the world of commerce, such as “redemption,” “purchase,” and “slave,” especially when he emphasized the obedience of Christ, of Paul, of all believers. He even used military terms to describe how God turned enemies into friends through the cross: the “reconciliation” that came through the “victory” of Christ’s death when he “disarmed” the “powers.”

Paul also relied heavily on Jewish theology as he sorted out the work of God in Christ Jesus. Paul was a monotheist but attributed divine status to Jesus (Phil. 2:6). Paul believed that Israel was God’s chosen people but maintained that his Gentile converts were the elect, calling them the “Israel of God” (Gal. 6:16). Paul affirmed the law was holy but argued that holiness came only through the indwelling Spirit (Rom. 7:12; 1 Thess. 4:7–8). Paul believed that the Messiah’s appearance would bring about the end of the world but looked forward to Christ’s parousia (“appearance”) at the end of time. In other words, the person and work of Christ formed the lens through which Paul interpreted the Bible and made sense of the world. Indeed, Paul’s gospel was built on a foundation of Jewish doctrine, Jesus tradition, and religious experience.

A way of life. For Paul, the gospel was more than a set of beliefs; it was a way of life. To believe in Christ Jesus not only entailed accepting his sacrificial death as atonement for sin but also meant following Christ by taking up his cross—a life of sacrifice. Paul believed that he experienced the cross of Christ every time he endured hardship, every time he was persecuted, every time he suffered loss (Phil. 3:7–11). And it was in the crucified life that Paul found resurrection power (3:12–21). The gospel was the divine paradigm for living. What happened to Christ is what happened to Paul, and what happened to Paul is what would happen to all his converts. “Follow my example,” he wrote, “as I follow the example of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). In fact, Paul believed that all Christians were constantly being conformed to the image of God’s Son (Rom. 8:29). He was convinced that God would finish what he had started: the perfecting of his converts until the day of Christ’s return and the resurrection of every believer (Phil. 1:6; 3:21). The only thing that his converts needed to imitate Christ was the indwelling power of his Spirit (the Holy Spirit), the example of Paul’s life, and a letter every now and then from their apostle.

Paul’s Letters

Paul sent letters to churches and individuals to inform his converts of his situation, offer encouragement, answer questions, and address problems that developed while he was away. There are thirteen letters of Paul in the New Testament. Nine were written to churches or groups of churches (Romans; 1 and 2 Corinthians; Galatians; Ephesians; Philippians; Colossions; 1 and 2 Thessalonians) and four to individuals (1 and 2 Timothy; Titus; Philemon).

Paul the apostle. In most of his letters, Paul was on the defense: defending his apostleship, defending his itinerary, defending his gospel. Evidently, Paul’s opponents questioned whether Paul deserved to be called “apostle,” since he had not followed the historical Jesus and used to persecute the church (1 Cor. 15:8–9). According to Acts, when the first Christians decided to replace Judas Iscariot as one of the twelve apostles, they established the following criterion: the candidate must have been a follower of Jesus from his baptism to his ascension (Acts 1:21–22). Two men were qualified; one was chosen by divine lot, implying that there could be only twelve. Did the early church’s decision to recognize only twelve apostles define apostleship once and for all? Paul did not think so. He recognized the significance of the Twelve, but he believed that there were other apostles as well: Bar-na-bas, James the brother of Jesus, and himself (1 Cor. 15:5–9; Gal. 2:8–9). Paul knew that there were false apostles causing trouble in the churches (2 Cor. 11:13), some even carrying “letters of recommendation” (2 Cor. 3:1). But only those who had seen the resurrected Christ and were commissioned by him to preach the gospel were legitimate apostles (1 Cor. 9:1–2). The signs of apostleship were evident when the commission was fulfilled: planting churches and dispensing the Spirit (2 Cor. 3:2; 12:12; Gal. 3:5). Of all people, Paul’s converts should have never questioned the authority of their apostle. They were the proof of his apostleship.

Although Paul never mentioned this, the fact that he sent letters is evidence of his apostleship. Paul believed that the obedience of Gentile converts was his responsibility, a confirmation of his calling (Rom. 15:18–19). So he sent letters to make sure that they were keeping the traditions that he had taught them (1 Cor. 11:2). Sometimes, all that his readers needed was a little encouragement to keep up the good work (most of 1 Thessalonians and 2 Timothy are exhortations to keep doing what they were doing) or a more detailed explanation of what they already knew (Ephesians, Philippians, 1 Timothy, Titus). Many times, Paul sent letters to correct major problems within his churches. For example, some of the Galatians were submitting to the law and being circumcised (Gal. 4:21; 5:2–7). Some of the Colossians were involved in strange practices of asceticism and angel worship (Col. 2:16–23). Some of the Thessalonians had quit working for a living (2 Thess. 3:6–15). And, worst of all, the Corinthians were plagued with all kinds of problems: factions, lawsuits, incest, prostitutes, idolatry. Some of the Corinthians were also espousing false theological ideas, such as denying the resurrection (1 Cor. 15:12). Other churches had problems sorting out Paul’s theology as well. For example, the Thessalonians were confused about life after death, end times, and the return of Christ (1 Thess. 4:13–18; 2 Thess. 2:1–12), and the Romans needed, among other things, instruction about the role of Israel in the last days (Rom. 9:1–11:32). The fact that Paul felt obliged to send his lengthiest letter, loaded with some of his most sophisticated theological arguments, to the church in Rome, which he did not start and had not visited, says much about the way Paul saw the authority of his apostleship. Because he was the apostle to the Gentiles, Paul operated as if he were the mentor of all churches with Gentile members.

Church unity. Paul believed in the unity of the church. Indeed, he used several metaphors to help his readers see why it was important that one Lord and one faith should form one church. He described the church as a temple (1 Cor. 3:16–17), a family (Eph. 2:19), and a body—his favorite metaphor (1 Cor. 12:12–27). He warned of desecrating the temple with divisive teaching and immoral behavior (1 Cor. 3:1–6:20). He rebuked his children when they refused to obey him as their father (1 Cor. 3:14–21) or mother (Gal. 4:19–20). And, more than any other analogy, Paul likened the church to a human body that could be maimed by prejudice and threatened by sickness (1 Cor. 11:17–34). To him, a dismembered body was an unholy body; a segregated church meant that Christ was divided (1 Cor. 1:10–13). The ethnic, religious, social, political, geographical, and economic differences evident in one of the most diverse collections of people in the first-century Mediterranean world made Paul’s vision of a unified church appear like an impossible dream. Yet the apostle to the Gentiles believed that the unity of the body of Christ was indispensable not only to his mission but also to the gospel of Jesus Christ (Eph. 4:1–6). So he collected a relief offering among his Gentile converts to help poor Jewish Christians in Jerusalem (Rom. 15:26–27). He taught masters to treat their slaves like siblings (Philem. 16). And he solicited Romans to fund his mission trip to Spain (Rom. 15:24). As far as Paul was concerned, the gospel brought down every wall that divides humanity because all people need salvation in Christ (Eph. 2:14–18).

Conclusion

Paul was a tentmaker, a missionary, a writer, a preacher, a teacher, a theologian, an evangelist, a mentor, a prophet, a miracle worker, a prisoner, and a martyr. His life story reads like the tale of three different men: a devout Pharisee, a tireless traveler, an ambitious writer. He knew the Scriptures better than did most people. He saw more of the world than did most merchants. He wrote some of the longest letters known at that time. To his converts, he was a faithful friend. To his opponents, he was an irrepressible troublemaker. But, according to Paul, he was nothing more or less than the man whom God had called through Jesus Christ to take the gospel to the ends of the earth.

A Pharisee commissioned by Jesus Christ to preach the gospel to Gentiles. His Jewish name was “Saul” (Acts 9:4; 13:9), but he preferred using his Roman name, especially when he signed his letters. Actually, “Paul” was his last name. Roman citizens had three names; the last name was the family name, called the “cognomen.” We do not know Paul’s first and middle Roman name, but his last name is derived from the Latin Paulus (Sergius Paulus, the proconsul of Cyprus, had the same family name [13:7]). Most people were known and called by their last name because group identity was more important in the first-century Mediterranean world than individual recognition. For example, when speaking publicly, Paul did not use his favorite self-designations, “apostle to the Gentiles” or “slave of Christ Jesus”; instead, he identified himself as a Jew, a citizen of Tarsus, a student of Gamaliel (21:39; 22:3). His social identity was embedded in his ethnicity, his nativity, his religion. However, even those categories cannot adequately describe Paul. He was a Jew but also a Roman citizen. Tarsus was his home (11:25–26), but he claimed that he was brought up in Jerusalem. He spoke Aramaic but wrote Greek letters. He was once a Pharisee but then preached a circumcision-free gospel to Gentiles. In many respects, Paul is an enigma. Who was he? What did he believe? Why did he think he had to leave his previous life in Judaism to become the apostle to the Gentiles? Why is he one of the major contributors to the NT even though he was not a follower of the historical Jesus?

Paul’s Life

Paul as a converted Pharisee. Paul spent the first half of his life as a Pharisee. The Pharisees were a Jewish sect that emphasized obedience to the law of God as the means of maintaining holiness. Practically all Jews believed that they should obey the law, but what made the Pharisees unique was their emphasis on applying all commandments, even those intended only for Levites and priests, to all Jews. For example, priests were required to keep certain rituals of hand washing before they ate (Lev. 22:1–9; cf. Exod 30:19–21; 40:31–32). So the Pharisees extended these requirements to all Israel in order to show God how serious they were about obeying the law (Mark 7:3–4). Obedience was crucial to God’s blessing; disobedience brought God’s curse. Therefore, the Pharisees established many traditions, going beyond the letter of the law, to ensure compliance. To what extent the Jewish people followed the example of the Pharisees is debated, but certainly it appeared to the people that no one was more zealous for God and his law than the Pharisees—a zeal that would compel them to join in the stoning of obvious offenders (Lev. 24:14; Acts 7:58). As a Pharisee, Paul’s zeal for the law led him to persecute Jewish Christians, not only in Jerusalem but also outside Israel, in places such as Damascus (Acts 8:3; 9:1–3; 22:4–5; Gal. 1:13–14; Phil. 3:6). Neither Paul nor Luke explains what the Pharisees found objectionable about this Jewish movement known as “the Way.” In fact, Paul’s teacher, Gamaliel, advised the Sanhedrin to ignore members of the Way and not make trouble for them (Acts 5:34–39)—advice obviously not taken by Paul. Perhaps it was Jesus’ reputation as a lawbreaker or the fact that he had died a cursed death according to the law that convinced Paul to imprison Jesus’ disciples (Deut. 21:23). Whatever the reason, Paul saw his role as persecutor of the church as the ultimate proof of his blamelessness under the law (Phil. 3:6).

After Christ appeared to Paul on the road to Damascus, everything changed: his life, his mission, his worldview (Acts 9:3–30). Paul left Pharisaism and immediately began preaching the gospel (Gal. 1:11–17). Those whom he persecuted were now friends. His zeal for the law was replaced by his zeal for Christ. It was a radical reversal. The rumor spread quickly: “The man who formerly persecuted us is now preaching the faith he once tried to destroy” (Gal. 1:23). Why the sudden change? Some think that it is what Paul saw—the glorified Messiah—that changed his perspective. The resurrection of Christ turned the curse of the cross into a blessing, death into life, shame into honor. The appearance of Christ (Christophany) was a revelation, an apocalypse, an end-of-the-world event for Paul. Old things passed away; everything became new (2 Cor. 5:17). What was divided under the old age of the law—Jews and Gentiles, male and female, slave and free—was united in Christ. Other scholars emphasize it is what Paul heard during the Christophany that changed the course of his life. Paul interpreted Christ’s charge, “Go, preach to the Gentiles,” as a prophetic calling, perhaps even fulfilling Isaiah’s end-time vision of salvation of the whole world (Isa. 49:1–7; Gal. 1:15–16). Thus, Paul’s westward push to take the gospel to the coastlands (Spain) was by divine design (Rom. 15:15–24). God commissioned Saul the Pharisee of the Jews to become Paul the apostle to the Gentiles because “the culmination of the ages has come” (1 Cor. 10:11).

Paul’s ministry. By our best estimates, Paul spent about thirty years preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ (AD 34–67)—a ministry that can be divided roughly into three decades. The first decade of his ministry (AD 34–46) has been called the “silent years,” as we have few details from Acts or the Pauline Epistles about his activities. For example, we know that he preached in Damascus for a while and spent some time in Arabia (a total of three years [Gal. 1:17–18]). He made a quick trip to Jerusalem to meet Peter and James the brother of Jesus. Then he returned home to Tarsus, evidently preaching there for several years, until Barnabas brought him to Antioch in Syria to help with the ministry of this mixed congregation of Jews and Gentiles (Acts 9:26–30; 11:25–26). In the second decade of his ministry (AD 46–59), Paul spent most of his life on the road, an itinerant ministry of preaching the gospel and planting churches from Cyprus to Corinth. For most of the third decade (AD 59–67), Paul ministered the gospel from prison, spending over two years imprisoned in Caesarea, another two to three years in a Roman prison (Acts ends here), released for a brief time (two years?) before his final arrest and imprisonment in Rome, where, according to church tradition, he was executed.

During his itinerant ministry, Paul traveled Roman roads that led him to free cities (Ephesus, Thessalonica, Athens) and Roman colonies (Pisidian Antioch, Iconium, Lystra, Derbe, Troas, Philippi, Corinth). Founding churches in urban centers afforded Paul more opportunities for ministry and for his work of making and repairing tents. Traveling within the borders of the Roman Empire also provided a better chance of protection as a citizen. At first, Paul and Barnabas covered familiar territory: Cyprus (Barnabas’s home region) and Anatolia (Paul’s home region). Then, with successive journeys Paul and other missionary companions branched out to Asia Minor, Macedonia, and Achaia. Some of the towns that Paul visited were small and provincial (Derbe, Lystra); others were major cities of great economic and intellectual commerce (Ephesus, Corinth, Athens). In the midst of such cultural diversity, Paul found receptive ears among a variety of ethnic groups: Gauls, Phrygians and Lycaonians, Greeks, Romans, and Jews. Previously, Paul’s Gentile converts had worshiped many gods (local, ethnic, and imperial), offered sacrifices at many shrines and temples, and joined in all the religious festivals (often involving immoral and ungodly practices). After believing the gospel, Paul’s predominantly Gentile churches turned from their idolatrous ways to serve “the living and true God” (1 Thess. 1:9). Their exclusive devotion to one God quickly led to economic and political problems, for both Paul’s converts and the cities of their residence. No more offerings for patron gods, no more support for local synagogues or the imperial cult—Paul’s converts were often persecuted for their newly found faith by local religious guilds (idol makers!) and civic leaders courting Roman favor (Acts 17:6–9; 19:23–41; Phil. 1:27–30; 1 Thess. 2:14–16). Indeed, Paul often was run out of town as a troublemaker who preached a message that threatened both the Jewish and the Roman ways of life (Acts 16:19–24; Phil. 3:17–4:1). It is no wonder that Paul’s activities eventually landed him in a Roman prison. It was only a matter of time before his reputation as a “lawbreaker” caught up with him (Acts 21:21). But that did not stop Paul. Whether as a prisoner or a free man, Paul proclaimed the gospel of Jesus Christ until the day he died.

Paul’s Gospel

The sources of Paul’s gospel. Paul ministered his entire life without the benefit of literary Gospels. Most scholars think that the earliest Gospel, Mark, was written about the time that Paul was martyred. Since Paul was not a disciple of Jesus and probably never heard him speak or witnessed his earthly ministry, how did Paul know what to preach? Where did Paul get his gospel? Paul mentioned four sources. First, he received oral traditions about Jesus from other Christians (1 Cor. 15:1–7). For him, hearing what happened during the Lord’s Supper from those who followed Jesus was the same as receiving it from the Lord (1 Cor. 11:23). Second, the Hebrew Scriptures were a major source of Paul’s gospel (Acts 17:2). Illumined by the Holy Spirit, Paul saw the gospel proclaimed in the law (Rom. 10:6–8) and predicted by the prophets (15:12). Third, in addition to the Christophany on the road to Damascus, Paul experienced revelations of Christ as epiphanies of the gospel (Acts 18:9–10; 26:18). This gave Paul the authority to claim that he received his gospel preeminently from Christ (Gal. 1:1, 16; 2:2). Fourth, Paul saw life experiences as a resource for the gospel (2 Cor. 12:7–10). As Paul made sense of what happened to him, he shared these insights with his converts as proof that “Christ is speaking through me” (2 Cor. 13:3–4). Indeed, Paul’s ways of doing the gospel were to be taught in all the churches as gospel truth (1 Cor. 4:17), because as far as Paul was concerned, the gospel of Jesus Christ was the gospel according to Paul.

The death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The center of Paul’s gospel was the death and resurrection of Jesus. The essence of what he preached was “Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor. 2:2). Furthermore, the resurrection of Christ was indispensable to the gospel that Paul proclaimed. Without the resurrection, Paul argued, faith in Christ would be vain because believers would still be dead in their sins with no hope of life after death—the resurrection of their bodies (1 Cor. 15:13–19). Exploring the center, Paul used several metaphors drawn from everyday life to explain the significance of Christ’s work on the cross. Paul used legal terms such as “justification”/“righteousness,” “law,” and “condemnation” when he explained how sinners are justified by faith in Christ. Paul described the implications of Christ’s death in religious terms, using words such as “sacrifice,” “sin,” “propitiation”/“expiation” (NIV: “sacrifice of atonement”), and “temple,” which would make sense to both Jews and Gentiles. He also borrowed words from the world of commerce, such as “redemption,” “purchase,” and “slave,” especially when he emphasized the obedience of Christ, of Paul, of all believers. He even used military terms to describe how God turned enemies into friends through the cross: the “reconciliation” that came through the “victory” of Christ’s death when he “disarmed” the “powers.”

Paul also relied heavily on Jewish theology as he sorted out the work of God in Christ Jesus. Paul was a monotheist but attributed divine status to Jesus (Phil. 2:6). Paul believed that Israel was God’s chosen people but maintained that his Gentile converts were the elect, calling them the “Israel of God” (Gal. 6:16). Paul affirmed the law was holy but argued that holiness came only through the indwelling Spirit (Rom. 7:12; 1 Thess. 4:7–8). Paul believed that the Messiah’s appearance would bring about the end of the world but looked forward to Christ’s parousia (“appearance”) at the end of time. In other words, the person and work of Christ formed the lens through which Paul interpreted the Bible and made sense of the world. Indeed, Paul’s gospel was built on a foundation of Jewish doctrine, Jesus tradition, and religious experience.

A way of life. For Paul, the gospel was more than a set of beliefs; it was a way of life. To believe in Christ Jesus not only entailed accepting his sacrificial death as atonement for sin but also meant following Christ by taking up his cross—a life of sacrifice. Paul believed that he experienced the cross of Christ every time he endured hardship, every time he was persecuted, every time he suffered loss (Phil. 3:7–11). And it was in the crucified life that Paul found resurrection power (3:12–21). The gospel was the divine paradigm for living. What happened to Christ is what happened to Paul, and what happened to Paul is what would happen to all his converts. “Follow my example,” he wrote, “as I follow the example of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). In fact, Paul believed that all Christians were constantly being conformed to the image of God’s Son (Rom. 8:29). He was convinced that God would finish what he had started: the perfecting of his converts until the day of Christ’s return and the resurrection of every believer (Phil. 1:6; 3:21). The only thing that his converts needed to imitate Christ was the indwelling power of his Spirit (the Holy Spirit), the example of Paul’s life, and a letter every now and then from their apostle.

Paul’s Letters

Paul sent letters to churches and individuals to inform his converts of his situation, offer encouragement, answer questions, and address problems that developed while he was away. There are thirteen letters of Paul in the New Testament. Nine were written to churches or groups of churches (Romans; 1 and 2 Corinthians; Galatians; Ephesians; Philippians; Colossions; 1 and 2 Thessalonians) and four to individuals (1 and 2 Timothy; Titus; Philemon).

Paul the apostle. In most of his letters, Paul was on the defense: defending his apostleship, defending his itinerary, defending his gospel. Evidently, Paul’s opponents questioned whether Paul deserved to be called “apostle,” since he had not followed the historical Jesus and used to persecute the church (1 Cor. 15:8–9). According to Acts, when the first Christians decided to replace Judas Iscariot as one of the twelve apostles, they established the following criterion: the candidate must have been a follower of Jesus from his baptism to his ascension (Acts 1:21–22). Two men were qualified; one was chosen by divine lot, implying that there could be only twelve. Did the early church’s decision to recognize only twelve apostles define apostleship once and for all? Paul did not think so. He recognized the significance of the Twelve, but he believed that there were other apostles as well: Bar-na-bas, James the brother of Jesus, and himself (1 Cor. 15:5–9; Gal. 2:8–9). Paul knew that there were false apostles causing trouble in the churches (2 Cor. 11:13), some even carrying “letters of recommendation” (2 Cor. 3:1). But only those who had seen the resurrected Christ and were commissioned by him to preach the gospel were legitimate apostles (1 Cor. 9:1–2). The signs of apostleship were evident when the commission was fulfilled: planting churches and dispensing the Spirit (2 Cor. 3:2; 12:12; Gal. 3:5). Of all people, Paul’s converts should have never questioned the authority of their apostle. They were the proof of his apostleship.

Although Paul never mentioned this, the fact that he sent letters is evidence of his apostleship. Paul believed that the obedience of Gentile converts was his responsibility, a confirmation of his calling (Rom. 15:18–19). So he sent letters to make sure that they were keeping the traditions that he had taught them (1 Cor. 11:2). Sometimes, all that his readers needed was a little encouragement to keep up the good work (most of 1 Thessalonians and 2 Timothy are exhortations to keep doing what they were doing) or a more detailed explanation of what they already knew (Ephesians, Philippians, 1 Timothy, Titus). Many times, Paul sent letters to correct major problems within his churches. For example, some of the Galatians were submitting to the law and being circumcised (Gal. 4:21; 5:2–7). Some of the Colossians were involved in strange practices of asceticism and angel worship (Col. 2:16–23). Some of the Thessalonians had quit working for a living (2 Thess. 3:6–15). And, worst of all, the Corinthians were plagued with all kinds of problems: factions, lawsuits, incest, prostitutes, idolatry. Some of the Corinthians were also espousing false theological ideas, such as denying the resurrection (1 Cor. 15:12). Other churches had problems sorting out Paul’s theology as well. For example, the Thessalonians were confused about life after death, end times, and the return of Christ (1 Thess. 4:13–18; 2 Thess. 2:1–12), and the Romans needed, among other things, instruction about the role of Israel in the last days (Rom. 9:1–11:32). The fact that Paul felt obliged to send his lengthiest letter, loaded with some of his most sophisticated theological arguments, to the church in Rome, which he did not start and had not visited, says much about the way Paul saw the authority of his apostleship. Because he was the apostle to the Gentiles, Paul operated as if he were the mentor of all churches with Gentile members.

Church unity. Paul believed in the unity of the church. Indeed, he used several metaphors to help his readers see why it was important that one Lord and one faith should form one church. He described the church as a temple (1 Cor. 3:16–17), a family (Eph. 2:19), and a body—his favorite metaphor (1 Cor. 12:12–27). He warned of desecrating the temple with divisive teaching and immoral behavior (1 Cor. 3:1–6:20). He rebuked his children when they refused to obey him as their father (1 Cor. 3:14–21) or mother (Gal. 4:19–20). And, more than any other analogy, Paul likened the church to a human body that could be maimed by prejudice and threatened by sickness (1 Cor. 11:17–34). To him, a dismembered body was an unholy body; a segregated church meant that Christ was divided (1 Cor. 1:10–13). The ethnic, religious, social, political, geographical, and economic differences evident in one of the most diverse collections of people in the first-century Mediterranean world made Paul’s vision of a unified church appear like an impossible dream. Yet the apostle to the Gentiles believed that the unity of the body of Christ was indispensable not only to his mission but also to the gospel of Jesus Christ (Eph. 4:1–6). So he collected a relief offering among his Gentile converts to help poor Jewish Christians in Jerusalem (Rom. 15:26–27). He taught masters to treat their slaves like siblings (Philem. 16). And he solicited Romans to fund his mission trip to Spain (Rom. 15:24). As far as Paul was concerned, the gospel brought down every wall that divides humanity because all people need salvation in Christ (Eph. 2:14–18).

Conclusion

Paul was a tentmaker, a missionary, a writer, a preacher, a teacher, a theologian, an evangelist, a mentor, a prophet, a miracle worker, a prisoner, and a martyr. His life story reads like the tale of three different men: a devout Pharisee, a tireless traveler, an ambitious writer. He knew the Scriptures better than did most people. He saw more of the world than did most merchants. He wrote some of the longest letters known at that time. To his converts, he was a faithful friend. To his opponents, he was an irrepressible troublemaker. But, according to Paul, he was nothing more or less than the man whom God had called through Jesus Christ to take the gospel to the ends of the earth.

The word “peace” in both the OT (shalom) and the NT (eirēnē) primarily describes something sound and complete. It was a common form of greeting in both Testaments, and many word cognates from shalom are still in use among speakers of Semitic languages as daily greetings. Following the Hellenistic convention of letter writing, but with heightened appreciation for its distinctively Christian meaning, almost all letters in the NT include “peace” in their beginning or end sections.

The concept of peace in the Bible, however, goes far beyond the commonly held notions of peace as the absence of conflict and the existence of cooperation between parties. The Bible presents peace as the state of completion of God’s plan, fulfillment of his promise for his people on earth. Although peace among individuals, people groups, and nations is not absent from the biblical concept, a clear emphasis is laid on peace between humans and God. In fact, attaining peace on an individual level is tied more closely to one’s relationship with God than to one’s inner psychological state.

Old Testament. The biblical worldview maintains that this world is a broken and flawed place, a state fallen from shalom, which must be reinstated to secure peace. In the OT, the primary context in which peace is reinstated is the sacrificial system. The “peace offering” (shelamim; NIV: “fellowship offering”) requires animal slaughter and shedding of blood. Insomuch as the sacrifice of animals is painful and costly, so is the brokenness of the proper relationship between sinful humans and the holy God.

Another important dimension of restoring peace is through the coming Messiah. That the divinely appointed Messiah would someday come and institute peace in this troubled world is found in many OT prophets and is particularly vital to the theology of Isaiah. With much symbolic power, the messianic epithet in Isa. 9:6 ends with the “Prince of Peace.” The promise that this messianic king will establish peace on earth was a centerpiece of the hope that Israel held through countless crises. In one of the most passionate and powerful passages in the OT, Isa. 53 says that a figure, often called the Suffering Servant, will emerge to take the sin and guilt of God’s people upon himself and bring peace to them (vv. 5–6).

New Testament. For Christians, all these prophecies point to the person and office of Jesus Christ. Significant in their eschatological overtones, both Zechariah and Simeon mention peace in their pronouncements that the anticipated coming of the Messiah had just occurred right in their view (Luke 1:79; 2:29). At Jesus’ birth, the angels proclaim the coming of the Prince of Peace (Luke 2:14). This resonates well with the assertion that Christ is our peace (Eph. 2:14–15).

It is important that the peace mediated by sacrifices in the OT is directly dispensed by Jesus in the Gospels, as in healing the sick and comforting the downtrodden. He even commands peace over natural disturbances (a storm). Jesus specifically indicates that he will give peace to those who follow him. He greets his disciples by invoking peace (“Peace to you”), echoing the Jewish custom at that time, but certainly with a far greater and more powerful reality in mind. In the end, however, the price of true peace was the life of Christ. The peace between God and humans was shattered due to rebellion on the part of humans and the ensuing divine wrath. Since the penalty of sin and separation from God is death (Rom. 6:23), mending the broken relationship would be very costly. In some of the most theologically charged passages (Rom. 5:8–11; 2 Cor. 5:18–21; Col. 1:20–22; Eph. 2:14–17), Paul argues that God, who was the offended party in this breach of relationship, took the initiative to restore the relationship by, shockingly enough, giving up his Son as the peace offering. Thus, the gospel ministry into which Paul and all disciples are called is the ministry of reconciliation—restoring peace.

The “theology of peace” explored above has immense implications for Christian life. In some real sense, peace is the capstone of the rich blessings bestowed on the believer. Peace is a divine gift (John 14:27; 16:33; Rom. 5:1). It is God’s answer to prayer (Phil. 4:7). What armors Christians is the gospel of peace (Eph. 6:15). God is a God of peace (1 Thess. 5:23), and Christ is our peace (Eph. 2:14–15). Peace is what Christ left for his disciples (John 14:27; 16:33).

In the early church, preaching often took place in a missionary context (e.g., Acts 10:34–43). An impressive variety of words is used to describe preaching to unbelievers, including the following: “evangelize” (euangelizomai [Acts 8:4, 12, 25, 35, 40]), “announce” (anangello [Acts 20:20]), “proclaim” (kēryssō [Acts 8:5]), and “persuade” (peithō [Acts 19:8, 26]). Preaching to believers also took place, in a worship context. This article highlights the latter context.

Influences on Preaching

From its inception, a core component of Christian worship was the public proclamation of a word from God. What form early Christian preaching took in the worship assembly is unclear. However, three elements seem most influential in its development: the practice of prophesying, the practices of the synagogue, and the tradition of Greco-Roman rhetoric.

Prophesying. The practice of prophesying in the public assembly appears to be an early form of preaching. Paul makes reference to prophets speaking in the church in Corinth (1 Cor. 11–14). Prophecy was that form of communication in which a word of God, a revelation, was shared and the church was edified (1 Cor. 11:4–5; 14:1, 3–5, 26, 29–31, 39). Others in the worship community tested the prophetic message to verify its truthfulness (1 Cor. 14:29; cf. 1 Thess. 5:19–22; 1 John 4:1–3).

A couple of indications lead to the conclusion that prophecy was more closely related to preaching than to speaking in tongues. For one, worshipers could comprehend the former but needed an interpreter for the latter. For another, the function of prophecy was exhortation (parakaleō [1 Cor. 14:4–5]). “Exhortation” (paraklēsis) is Paul’s most comprehensive term for public proclamation (e.g., 1 Thess. 2:3–4). That is why Paul admonishes worshipers not to interrupt one another in the process of prophesying (1 Cor. 14:29–31). The practice of prophecy influenced the shape that early Christian preaching took.

Synagogue. Another element influencing early Christian preaching was the synagogue. It seems quite likely that early Christian preaching flowed out of the practice found in Jewish synagogues. In the synagogue, the pattern was the reading of Scripture followed by commentary (Luke 4:14–30; Acts 13:15–41).

These two components—prophecy and the reading and exposition of Scripture in the synagogue—play the largest role in influencing the shape of early Christian preaching. How they did so remains uncertain. The early believers may have merged the two practices in Christian worship. Jewish Christians, who had attended the synagogue, took the practice of reading and interpreting Scripture and adopted it into the context of worship in house churches, along with the Jewish tradition of prophesying. Thus, the practice of prophesying merged with the practice of reading and expounding on Scripture to create a more systematic form of proclamation.

The exposition of Scripture may also have assisted in judging the validity of a particular prophecy. However, the criteria for verifying the truth of a prophecy were broader than Scripture alone; it was also measured against one’s lifestyle (Matt. 7:15–20, 21–23) and how the prophecy aligned with established doctrines of the church (1 Cor. 14:29, 37; 1 John 4:1–3).

Greco-Roman rhetoric. A third component influencing early Christian preaching was the classical rhetoric of the Greeks and the Romans. The teachings of rhetoric saturated the culture and education of the day. However, the degree to which it penetrated first-century Christian culture remains uncertain. Paul’s letters display a familiarity with Greco-Roman rhetoric, and from that, one can assume that its influence affected the practice of preaching to some extent.

Sermons and Their Content

The NT contains no fully developed sermon in the context of a public worship. Scholars do believe, however, that Paul’s sermon to the elders in Ephesus is a good representation of his preaching because it contains a theology and vocabulary that echo his teaching in his letters to various churches (Acts 20:17–35). Paul’s letters also likely indicate what he preached to believers. His letters have an oral quality about them and were read in the assemblies (Col. 4:16; 1 Thess. 5:27). Thus, Paul’s letters offer a flavor of early Christian preaching.

Another important issue related to early Christian preaching involves the content of what was preached and whether a sharp distinction should be made between kerygma and didachē. C. H. Dodd has defined early Christian preaching as proclamation to nonbelievers. The term he uses to describe it is kerygma. For him, preaching was an evangelistic message about the gospel of God proclaimed to non-Christians. Teaching, didachē, remained distinct and was an ethical admonition (paraklēsis) delivered to Christians. However, Paul’s letters contain no such distinction between the two. Paul links his preaching the gospel of God with his appeal (paraklēsis) to the church (cf. 1 Thess. 2:2–3 with 2 Cor. 5:19–20). That is, Paul continues to announce the good news to the churches along with exhortations to incarnate that good news in the lives of the recipients. Both kerygma and didachē embodied the content of early Christian preaching.

In the early church, preaching often took place in a missionary context (e.g., Acts 10:34–43). An impressive variety of words is used to describe preaching to unbelievers, including the following: “evangelize” (euangelizomai [Acts 8:4, 12, 25, 35, 40]), “announce” (anangello [Acts 20:20]), “proclaim” (kēryssō [Acts 8:5]), and “persuade” (peithō [Acts 19:8, 26]). Preaching to believers also took place, in a worship context. This article highlights the latter context.

Influences on Preaching

From its inception, a core component of Christian worship was the public proclamation of a word from God. What form early Christian preaching took in the worship assembly is unclear. However, three elements seem most influential in its development: the practice of prophesying, the practices of the synagogue, and the tradition of Greco-Roman rhetoric.

Prophesying. The practice of prophesying in the public assembly appears to be an early form of preaching. Paul makes reference to prophets speaking in the church in Corinth (1 Cor. 11–14). Prophecy was that form of communication in which a word of God, a revelation, was shared and the church was edified (1 Cor. 11:4–5; 14:1, 3–5, 26, 29–31, 39). Others in the worship community tested the prophetic message to verify its truthfulness (1 Cor. 14:29; cf. 1 Thess. 5:19–22; 1 John 4:1–3).

A couple of indications lead to the conclusion that prophecy was more closely related to preaching than to speaking in tongues. For one, worshipers could comprehend the former but needed an interpreter for the latter. For another, the function of prophecy was exhortation (parakaleō [1 Cor. 14:4–5]). “Exhortation” (paraklēsis) is Paul’s most comprehensive term for public proclamation (e.g., 1 Thess. 2:3–4). That is why Paul admonishes worshipers not to interrupt one another in the process of prophesying (1 Cor. 14:29–31). The practice of prophecy influenced the shape that early Christian preaching took.

Synagogue. Another element influencing early Christian preaching was the synagogue. It seems quite likely that early Christian preaching flowed out of the practice found in Jewish synagogues. In the synagogue, the pattern was the reading of Scripture followed by commentary (Luke 4:14–30; Acts 13:15–41).

These two components—prophecy and the reading and exposition of Scripture in the synagogue—play the largest role in influencing the shape of early Christian preaching. How they did so remains uncertain. The early believers may have merged the two practices in Christian worship. Jewish Christians, who had attended the synagogue, took the practice of reading and interpreting Scripture and adopted it into the context of worship in house churches, along with the Jewish tradition of prophesying. Thus, the practice of prophesying merged with the practice of reading and expounding on Scripture to create a more systematic form of proclamation.

The exposition of Scripture may also have assisted in judging the validity of a particular prophecy. However, the criteria for verifying the truth of a prophecy were broader than Scripture alone; it was also measured against one’s lifestyle (Matt. 7:15–20, 21–23) and how the prophecy aligned with established doctrines of the church (1 Cor. 14:29, 37; 1 John 4:1–3).

Greco-Roman rhetoric. A third component influencing early Christian preaching was the classical rhetoric of the Greeks and the Romans. The teachings of rhetoric saturated the culture and education of the day. However, the degree to which it penetrated first-century Christian culture remains uncertain. Paul’s letters display a familiarity with Greco-Roman rhetoric, and from that, one can assume that its influence affected the practice of preaching to some extent.

Sermons and Their Content

The NT contains no fully developed sermon in the context of a public worship. Scholars do believe, however, that Paul’s sermon to the elders in Ephesus is a good representation of his preaching because it contains a theology and vocabulary that echo his teaching in his letters to various churches (Acts 20:17–35). Paul’s letters also likely indicate what he preached to believers. His letters have an oral quality about them and were read in the assemblies (Col. 4:16; 1 Thess. 5:27). Thus, Paul’s letters offer a flavor of early Christian preaching.

Another important issue related to early Christian preaching involves the content of what was preached and whether a sharp distinction should be made between kerygma and didachē. C. H. Dodd has defined early Christian preaching as proclamation to nonbelievers. The term he uses to describe it is kerygma. For him, preaching was an evangelistic message about the gospel of God proclaimed to non-Christians. Teaching, didachē, remained distinct and was an ethical admonition (paraklēsis) delivered to Christians. However, Paul’s letters contain no such distinction between the two. Paul links his preaching the gospel of God with his appeal (paraklēsis) to the church (cf. 1 Thess. 2:2–3 with 2 Cor. 5:19–20). That is, Paul continues to announce the good news to the churches along with exhortations to incarnate that good news in the lives of the recipients. Both kerygma and didachē embodied the content of early Christian preaching.

In the early church, preaching often took place in a missionary context (e.g., Acts 10:34–43). An impressive variety of words is used to describe preaching to unbelievers, including the following: “evangelize” (euangelizomai [Acts 8:4, 12, 25, 35, 40]), “announce” (anangello [Acts 20:20]), “proclaim” (kēryssō [Acts 8:5]), and “persuade” (peithō [Acts 19:8, 26]). Preaching to believers also took place, in a worship context. This article highlights the latter context.

Influences on Preaching

From its inception, a core component of Christian worship was the public proclamation of a word from God. What form early Christian preaching took in the worship assembly is unclear. However, three elements seem most influential in its development: the practice of prophesying, the practices of the synagogue, and the tradition of Greco-Roman rhetoric.

Prophesying. The practice of prophesying in the public assembly appears to be an early form of preaching. Paul makes reference to prophets speaking in the church in Corinth (1 Cor. 11–14). Prophecy was that form of communication in which a word of God, a revelation, was shared and the church was edified (1 Cor. 11:4–5; 14:1, 3–5, 26, 29–31, 39). Others in the worship community tested the prophetic message to verify its truthfulness (1 Cor. 14:29; cf. 1 Thess. 5:19–22; 1 John 4:1–3).

A couple of indications lead to the conclusion that prophecy was more closely related to preaching than to speaking in tongues. For one, worshipers could comprehend the former but needed an interpreter for the latter. For another, the function of prophecy was exhortation (parakaleō [1 Cor. 14:4–5]). “Exhortation” (paraklēsis) is Paul’s most comprehensive term for public proclamation (e.g., 1 Thess. 2:3–4). That is why Paul admonishes worshipers not to interrupt one another in the process of prophesying (1 Cor. 14:29–31). The practice of prophecy influenced the shape that early Christian preaching took.

Synagogue. Another element influencing early Christian preaching was the synagogue. It seems quite likely that early Christian preaching flowed out of the practice found in Jewish synagogues. In the synagogue, the pattern was the reading of Scripture followed by commentary (Luke 4:14–30; Acts 13:15–41).

These two components—prophecy and the reading and exposition of Scripture in the synagogue—play the largest role in influencing the shape of early Christian preaching. How they did so remains uncertain. The early believers may have merged the two practices in Christian worship. Jewish Christians, who had attended the synagogue, took the practice of reading and interpreting Scripture and adopted it into the context of worship in house churches, along with the Jewish tradition of prophesying. Thus, the practice of prophesying merged with the practice of reading and expounding on Scripture to create a more systematic form of proclamation.

The exposition of Scripture may also have assisted in judging the validity of a particular prophecy. However, the criteria for verifying the truth of a prophecy were broader than Scripture alone; it was also measured against one’s lifestyle (Matt. 7:15–20, 21–23) and how the prophecy aligned with established doctrines of the church (1 Cor. 14:29, 37; 1 John 4:1–3).

Greco-Roman rhetoric. A third component influencing early Christian preaching was the classical rhetoric of the Greeks and the Romans. The teachings of rhetoric saturated the culture and education of the day. However, the degree to which it penetrated first-century Christian culture remains uncertain. Paul’s letters display a familiarity with Greco-Roman rhetoric, and from that, one can assume that its influence affected the practice of preaching to some extent.

Sermons and Their Content

The NT contains no fully developed sermon in the context of a public worship. Scholars do believe, however, that Paul’s sermon to the elders in Ephesus is a good representation of his preaching because it contains a theology and vocabulary that echo his teaching in his letters to various churches (Acts 20:17–35). Paul’s letters also likely indicate what he preached to believers. His letters have an oral quality about them and were read in the assemblies (Col. 4:16; 1 Thess. 5:27). Thus, Paul’s letters offer a flavor of early Christian preaching.

Another important issue related to early Christian preaching involves the content of what was preached and whether a sharp distinction should be made between kerygma and didachē. C. H. Dodd has defined early Christian preaching as proclamation to nonbelievers. The term he uses to describe it is kerygma. For him, preaching was an evangelistic message about the gospel of God proclaimed to non-Christians. Teaching, didachē, remained distinct and was an ethical admonition (paraklēsis) delivered to Christians. However, Paul’s letters contain no such distinction between the two. Paul links his preaching the gospel of God with his appeal (paraklēsis) to the church (cf. 1 Thess. 2:2–3 with 2 Cor. 5:19–20). That is, Paul continues to announce the good news to the churches along with exhortations to incarnate that good news in the lives of the recipients. Both kerygma and didachē embodied the content of early Christian preaching.

In the most basic sense, regeneration refers to God giving new life to someone or something. Although the word “regeneration” does not appear in the NIV, the concept is abundantly present in a variety of terms and images, especially those of new birth, new life, new self, new heart, and new creation. The biblical concept of regeneration is applied to both individuals and creation.

Individuals. Because of Adam’s rebellion in the garden, humanity plunged into spiritual death (Rom. 5:12–14). Nothing short of God imparting new life to a person can overcome this condition. The classic expression of this truth is found in Jesus’ conversation with Nicodemus (John 3:1–21). According to Jesus, entering the kingdom of God requires being born again, which he further explains as being “born of water and the Spirit” (John 3:3–5). Jesus’ description taps into the language of Ezek. 36:25–27, where God promises to sprinkle clean water on his people and put his Spirit within them.

Paul also attributes regeneration to the work of the Spirit when he says that God “saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life” (Titus 3:5–7). The renewing work of the Spirit is the initial aspect of a person’s experience of salvation, but it is closely connected with several other aspects of God’s work in the believer, such as justification, inheritance, and eternal life. The transformation that regeneration begins is so profound that Paul can refer to it as an act of “new creation” in which a person who experiences it is, in a very real sense, an entirely new person (2 Cor. 5:17).

In addition to making a person spiritually alive, God’s act of regeneration places within the believer a new disposition or orientation toward faith in Christ and obedience to him. Those who are born of God believe that Jesus is the Christ (1 John 5:1), love God and others (4:7–11), and do not continue in sin (3:9). God makes sinners alive not only to show the riches of his grace (Eph. 2:4–7), but also so that they “do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (2:10).

Creation. God’s work of regeneration extends beyond the individual to the entire creation. Jesus refers to the consummation of God’s plans as “the renewal [palingenesia, ‘regeneration’] of all things” (Matt. 19:28). Because of Adam’s sin, creation was placed under a curse (Gen. 3:17–19). To this day, creation groans under that curse (Rom. 8:19–22). But in the OT, God promised to renew the created order (Isa. 65:17; 66:22). The death and resurrection of Jesus are the initial fulfillment of this cosmic regeneration (Matt. 27:51–53; 1 Cor. 15:20–23), but the completion awaits the new heaven and earth (Rev. 21–22).

The regeneration of the individual and creation are inseparable. God imparts new spiritual life to his chosen people so that they respond in faith and obedience to him. The same regenerating power that brings the believer alive will one day renew all creation to make a suitable place for God’s regenerate people to dwell. See also New Birth.

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.