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

Heaven and Earth

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

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

The Theology of Land

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

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

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

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

Inheritance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A controlled point of entry into an otherwise enclosed area such as a city (Gen. 34:24; Ps. 122:2; Acts 9:24), camp (Exod. 32:26–27), tabernacle court (Exod. 35:17), palace (2 Kings 11:19), temple area (Jer. 36:10; Ezek. 40), prison (Acts 12:10), or house (Acts 10:17).

In the OT, the city gate has a central role in that city’s military, economic, judicial, political, and religious aspects of life. A key component of the defense system of a city, the gate consists of doors fortified with bars (Judg. 16:3; Ps. 107:16; Nah. 3:13) and keeps invading armies out while also serving as the point of departure and return for the city’s army (2 Sam. 18:4; cf. God the warrior entering in Ps. 24:7–8). The gate also may serve as the location where news of the battle is delivered (1 Sam. 4:18; 2 Sam. 18:24). The destruction of the city gate usually means the destruction of the city (Isa. 24:12).

In the economic life of the city, the gate functions as a place of commerce (Gen. 23; 2 Kings 7:1) and music (Lam. 5:14). At the entrance to the city gate, the city elders assembled daily to hear cases and render judgment (Job 29:7; Prov. 24:7). Along with the elders, there might be additional witnesses (Ruth 4:1–11; Ps. 69:12). For criminal cases, the gate may also be the location where punishment is enacted (Deut. 17:5; 22:24). Thus, the gate is to be a place where all people can come to obtain justice (2 Sam. 15:2–4; Isa. 29:21; Amos 5:15). The gate may hold a seat reserved for the king (2 Sam. 19:8) as well as the king’s officials (Esther 2:19–21; 3:2–3). The city gate might also contain shrines to various gods (2 Kings 23:8; cf. Acts 14:13).

A city may have more than one gate (Jer. 17:19), each having a different name. For example, when Nehemiah sets out to rebuild the wall and gates of Jerusalem, there is mention of the Valley Gate, the Dung Gate, and the Fountain Gate (Neh. 2:11–17) as well as the Sheep Gate (3:1) and the Jeshanah Gate (3:6).

Some references to gates refer to those of the temple area (Ezek. 44; 46; Pss. 100:4; 118:19–20). In Ezek. 48 the temple area is to have twelve gates, each named after a tribe of Israel (Ezek. 48:30–35; cf. Rev. 21:12–25). The prophet Jeremiah proclaims the word of the Lord from both the city gate(s) (Jer. 17:19–27) and the temple gate(s) (7:1–4).

In the NT, Jesus raises the dead son of a widow at the town gate (Luke 7:11–17) and heals a lame man near the Sheep Gate (John 5:1–15). Peter heals a crippled man near the temple gate (Acts 3:1–10). Jesus mentions gates in his teaching, including a call to enter through the narrow gate of life (Matt. 7:13–14), and his parable of the sheep and the gate, in which Jesus refers to himself as the gate (John 10:1–18). See also City Gates.

The tangible presence of God, experienced as overwhelming power and splendor. The main Hebrew word referring to glory, kabod, has the root meaning “heavy” (1 Sam. 4:18), which in other contexts can mean “intense” (Exod. 9:3; NIV: “terrible”), “wealthy” (i.e., “heavy in possessions” [Gen. 13:2]), and “high reputation” (Gen. 34:19; NIV: “most honored”). When used of God, it refers to his person and his works. God reveals his glory to Israel and to Egypt at the crossing of the sea (Exod. 14:4, 17–19). He carefully reveals his glory to Moses after Israel’s sin with the golden calf in order to assure him that he will not abandon them (33:12–23).

God’s glory is often associated with a cloud. Perhaps better stated, God’s glory often is intentionally obscured by a cloud so that people are not overwhelmed by the radiance of his presence. Such is the case on top of Mount Sinai as Moses ascends it (Exod. 24:15–18). God’s glory as associated with the cloud is also closely connected to the tabernacle and the temple. When the tabernacle is completed, God makes his presence known there by filling it with the cloud that represents his glory (Exod. 40:34–38). Later, the temple too is filled with God’s glory made manifest in the cloud (1 Kings 8:10–11). The ark of the covenant, the most potent symbol of God’s presence, is also seen as a manifestation of his glory (1 Sam. 4:21–22).

God’s glory is overwhelming, and human beings cannot experience its fullness and survive. Thus, glory is often connected with God’s acts of judgment. For instance, when Korah the Levite and Abiram the Reubenite rebel in the wilderness, God appears ready for judgment against the people in the form of the glory-cloud (Num. 16:19–21), though Moses’ intercession spares the bulk of the people from the judgment that comes on the leaders of the rebellion (see also 16:41).

The Psalms celebrate God’s glory. Psalm 24 is an example. The original setting of the psalm is likely the return of the ark of the covenant from the battlefield. The priest at the head of the army, led by the ark, asks a priest or gatekeeper, “Lift up your heads, you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.” The priestly gatekeeper asks, “Who is this King of glory?” eliciting the response, “The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle.” Many other psalms share this theme or call on Israel to glorify the Lord (see Pss. 29:9; 34:3; 63:3; 104:31 as examples).

The prophets have the privilege of intimate fellowship with God and profound experiences of God’s glory. Isaiah accepts his commission as a prophet in a vision of the throne room of God. He sees angelic figures calling out: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory” (Isa. 6:3). Ezekiel reports an amazing encounter with God in his glory that causes him to fall facedown on the ground (Ezek. 1:28).

In the NT the glory of God is made real in the person of Jesus Christ (John 1:14; Heb. 1:3). He is, after all, the very presence of God. When he returns on the clouds, he will fully reveal God’s glory (Matt. 24:30; Mark 13:26; Luke 21:27).

A collection of 150 poems. They are the hymnbook of the OT period, used in public worship. Psalms contains songs of different lengths, types, and dates. The earliest psalm (Ps. 90) is attributed to Moses (mid-second millennium BC), while the content of Ps. 126 and Ps. 137 points to the latest periods of the OT (mid-first millennium BC). They continue to be used as a source of public worship and private devotion.

Historical Background

Most psalms have a title. In the Hebrew text this title comprises the first verse, whereas English translations set it off before the first verse. Titles vary. Many name an author (e.g., David [Ps. 3]; Asaph [Ps. 77]; sons of Korah [Ps. 42]), while others provide information about genre (e.g., Psalms of Ascent [Pss. 120–134]), tune (e.g., “Do Not Destroy” [Ps. 75]), use in worship (Ps. 92), and a circumstance that led to composition (Ps. 51). Information in the title gives hints concerning how psalms were written and brought into a final collection.

Composition

As mentioned, the titles of the psalms often give indications of authorship and occasionally name the circumstance that led to the writing of the psalm. A good example is Ps. 51, where the title states, “For the director of music. A psalm of David. When the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba.” The title connects the psalm with the events recorded in 2 Sam. 11–12 and suggests that David wrote the song in response to his sin and Nathan’s confrontation.

Although only a handful of the psalms have such a historical title, it is likely that most psalms were composed in response to some specific circumstance that encouraged the author to write. Interestingly, though, the psalmists do not speak about the specific circumstance in the psalm itself. Psalm 51, for instance, fits perfectly with the situation that the title describes in that it expresses guilt toward God and asks for forgiveness, but nowhere does it speak specifically about adultery. The psalmists do this intentionally because they are writing the song not as a memorial to an event, but rather as a prayer that others who have had similar though not identical experiences can use after them. Thus, Ps. 51 has been used as a model prayer for many penitents, whether they have sinned like David or in another way.

Most modern hymns have a similar background. John Newton, for instance, was inspired to write “Amazing Grace” because of awe that he felt at his conversion to Christianity from the evil of being a slave trader. However, when he wrote it, he wanted others to sing it as reflecting not on his conversion but on their own.

Collection

The psalms were composed over a thousand-year period. Thus, it appears that the book of Psalms was a growing collection until it came to a close at an unknown time between the writing of the two Testaments.

In 1 Chron. 16:7–36 we may get a glimpse of how the process worked. The text describes David turning a musical composition over to the Levitical musician Asaph and his associates. It is likely that the priests kept an official copy of the book of Psalms in the holy place (the temple while it stood). The psalms, after all, were the hymns of ancient Israel. Their primary function was as a corporate book of prayer, though certainly they could be used in private devotions (note Hannah’s prayer in 1 Sam. 2:1–10 and its relationship to Ps. 113).

Organization and Structure

The psalms have no obvious organization that explains the location of all the psalms. They are not organized in terms of genre, authorship, time of composition, or length. There is only one statement about organization, found in Ps. 72:20: “This concludes the prayers of David son of Jesse.” In the light of this comment, it is surprising that a number of Davidic psalms appear in subsequent sections (Pss. 101; 103; 108–110; 122; 124; 131; 133; 138–145). The best explanation is that at one point Ps. 72 concluded the Davidic psalms, but there was a reorganization before the canonical order was permanently closed.

A number of contemporary theories try to find some deep structure to the book, but it is best to refrain from speculation in regard to the overall structure. Nonetheless, a few structural characteristics are obvious. First, the division of Psalms into five books seems to reflect the fivefold division of the Pentateuch:

I. Book 1 (Pss. 1–41)

II. Book 2 (Pss. 42–72)

III. Book 3 (Pss. 73–89)

IV. Book 4 (Pss. 90–106)

V. Book 5 (Pss. 107–150)

Each book ends with a doxology. Such an intentional association with the Pentateuch would lend support to the Psalter’s claim to authority. Although these are prayers to God, they are also God’s word.

Second, within the Psalter there are subcollections. That is, there are psalms that came into the book not individually but as a group. The best-known such group are the Psalms of Ascent (Pss. 120–134), probably so named because worshipers sang them while going up (ascending) to the Temple Mount during one of the annual religious festivals in Jerusalem.

Third, it appears that psalms are intentionally placed at the beginning and at the end of the book to serve as an introduction and a conclusion. Psalms 1–2 serve as an introduction that alerts the reader to the twin important themes of law and messiah. Psalm 1 pronounces a blessing on those who love God’s law. The psalms, after all, are an intimate and personal conversation with God. One must be on the side of the godly to enter such a holy textual space, just as one must be godly to enter the precincts of the temple. After the reader enters, Psalm 2 provides an encounter with God and his anointed one (messiah). At the end of the book, the last five psalms (Pss. 146–150) constitute a tremendous doxology of praise.

This leads to the final observation on structure. Psalms of lament predominate at the beginning of the book, but they give way to hymns of praise toward the end. It is almost as if one enters the Psalter mourning and leaves it praising. Indeed, the Psalter brings the reader into contact with God and thus transforms the reader from sadness to joy.

Literary Considerations

Genre. The individual psalms may be identified as songs, prayers, or poems. Specifically, they are lyric poems (expressing the emotions of the poet), often addressed to God, and set to musical accompaniment. Although the categories overlap, seven different types of psalms can be recognized, with the first three being by far the most common.

• Lament. The largest single group of psalms are the laments, characterized by the expression of unhappy emotions: sadness, disappointment, anger, worry. The lamenters call on God to save them, even while at times complaining about God’s actions toward them (Ps. 42:9–10). Some laments contain petitions for forgiveness (Ps. 51), while others assert innocence of any wrongdoing (Ps. 26). A few laments even contain curses directed toward the enemies who are trying to harm the psalmist (Ps. 69:19–28). Most laments end by praising God or reaffirming confidence in God (Ps. 130:7–8). Usually the reason for the change from mourning to rejoicing is not given, but Ps. 77 pinpoints the reason as the memory of God’s great salvation events in the past (vv. 10, 16–20). One psalm, Ps. 88, laments but never makes the turn, remaining in the pit of despair. Yet even here we have a glimmer of hope in that the one who laments is still speaking to God.

• Thanksgiving. When God answers a lament, the response is thanksgiving. Psalms of thanksgiving are very similar to hymns (see below), but they cite an earlier problem that God has addressed. Psalm 30 praises God for restoring the psalmist’s good fortune and health after he suffered due to his earlier arrogance that led him to forget God (vv. 6–7).

• Hymn. Hymns are psalms of unalloyed praise directed toward God. The psalmists often call for others to join their worship of God (Ps. 100).

• Remembrance. While many psalms evoke memories of God’s actions in the past (as the lament in Ps. 77 recalls the exodus), certain psalms focus on rehearsing the actions of God in the past. Psalm 136 is one of the most memorable examples. As a liturgical psalm, it recites a divine action (“[God] swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea” [v. 15]) followed by a congregational response (“His love endures forever”).

• Confidence. These psalms are defined by their mood of quiet trust in God even in the midst of trouble. They often present a reassuring image of God. The picture of God as a shepherd in Ps. 23 or as a mother in Ps. 131 are good examples.

• Wisdom. Some psalms meditate on the law (Pss. 1; 119) or have interests similar to those of wisdom literature, such as Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes (Pss. 49; 73).

• Kingship. A number of psalms praise God as king (Ps. 47) or the human king as his agent (Pss. 20–21) or both (Ps. 2).

Style. The psalms are poems, and so their style is characterized by the use of parallelism and figurative language. Poetry is also notable for its short lines. A poet packs a lot of meaning into very few words. So it is important to slow down and reflect on a psalm in order to derive its maximum effect. Besides brevity of expression, parallelism, and figurative language, poets create interest by using other literary tools. The psalmists use these poetic devices not only to inform their readers’ intellect but also to stimulate their imagination and arouse their emotions. (See also Acrostic; Imagery; Poetry.)

Theological Message

Although the psalms are not theological essays, readers can learn about God and their relationship with God from these poems. The book of Psalms is a bit like a portrait gallery of God, using images to describe who he is and the nature of our relationship with him. Some examples include God as shepherd (Ps. 23), king (Ps. 47), warrior (Ps. 98), and mother (Ps. 131), and the list could be greatly expanded. Each one of these picture images casts light on the nature of God and also the nature of our relationship with God. After all, the aforementioned psalms explicitly or implicitly describe God’s people as sheep, subjects, soldiers, and children.

Connection to the New Testament and Today

Jesus himself draws attention to Psalms as a book that anticipated his coming suffering and glorification (Luke 24:25–27, 44). The Gospels recognized that Jesus’ zeal for God was well expressed by Ps. 69:9 (John 2:17). When at the apex of his suffering on the cross, Jesus uttered the words found in Ps. 22:1 (Matt. 27:46). The NT writers also saw that Jesus was the fulfillment of the covenant that promised that a son of David would have an everlasting throne (2 Sam. 7:16). Accordingly, the royal psalms (e.g., Pss. 2; 110) often were applied to Jesus, who is the Messiah (the Christ, “the anointed one”).

Today we read Psalms not only as an ancient witness to the coming work of Christ but also, as John Calvin put it, as a mirror of our souls. The psalms were written for worshipers who came after them with similar though not identical joys and problems. The psalms should become models of our prayers.

Ablutions include a variety of practices found primarily in the OT through which persons washed in order to participate in the most important activities of the community, usually worship. Although terms referring to washing cover a variety of purposes, such as cleansing the hands or bathing (Gen. 18:4; Ruth 3:3; Acts 16:33; 2 Pet. 2:22), when one speaks of ablutions, the focus is upon the necessary tasks of cleansing after suffering separation from participation in the worship of the assembly because of some impurity (Deut. 21:1–9).

Sometimes ablutions were performed as a means of preparing a person for an activity of heightened importance. The priests of the OT underwent such cleansings, though they were not impure in the usual sense of the word (Exod. 30:19–21). The imagery communicated by such practices expressed the extreme holiness necessary to serve God and his people. Indeed, the sense of holiness and purity that pervaded the sacred rites of the OT was a major motivation for all levels of ablutions. For these heightened moments, however, the biblical record goes into extra detail concerning the process by which one could be washed. Special care was taken to avoid recontamination of the priest, the sacred instruments, or the camp itself, which would interfere with or render useless the rite that had been carried out (Lev. 16:4, 24, 26, 28). As with all ceremonial rites, however, the biblical interest is focused more upon the attitude and the heart of the worshiper than the rite itself. The integrity and the holiness of the participant were the true test of standing pure before God, not the ritual of cleansing (Ps. 24:3–6; Isa. 1:11–16).

In the NT, the pattern of emphasis on the inner person begun in the OT received further expression. In the book of Mark, one of the conflict passages recounts an encounter between Jesus and the Pharisees regarding the extent of ritual cleansing necessary in one’s life (7:1–16). Jesus proclaimed, in full harmony with the OT, that it has always been the character of the individual that made a person clean or unclean, and that the washings of old were symbolic of that status, not determinative of it. Despite this, it seems that Jewish Christians of the first century chose to continue the practice of ritual washings. The writer of Hebrews argues that the use of such is both an illustration of the pure life (10:22) and a practice that may be considered unnecessary in light of what Christ had accomplished through his perfect work (6:2; 9:10).

Generally speaking, the source of washing for such ceremonial cleansing had to be “living water”; that is, it had to be moving. This could be obtained by pouring the water, by visiting a dedicated ceremonial bath, or by carrying out the washing in a location that already had moving water, such as a river. There is little question, based upon the similarities of early baptismal practices and the ceremonial baths uncovered at Qumran and elsewhere, that NT baptism draws many of its intentions and expressions from the OT ablutions. As such, the same observations about washings made above can be drawn concerning baptism. It is symbolic of an internal reality (Eph. 5:26); it is intended as a means of expressing community between the participant and the greater body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:13); and it is reflective of a higher calling of Christ to live holy lives (Acts 10:47).

A collection of 150 poems. They are the hymnbook of the OT period, used in public worship. Psalms contains songs of different lengths, types, and dates. The earliest psalm (Ps. 90) is attributed to Moses (mid-second millennium BC), while the content of Ps. 126 and Ps. 137 points to the latest periods of the OT (mid-first millennium BC). They continue to be used as a source of public worship and private devotion.

Historical Background

Most psalms have a title. In the Hebrew text this title comprises the first verse, whereas English translations set it off before the first verse. Titles vary. Many name an author (e.g., David [Ps. 3]; Asaph [Ps. 77]; sons of Korah [Ps. 42]), while others provide information about genre (e.g., Psalms of Ascent [Pss. 120–134]), tune (e.g., “Do Not Destroy” [Ps. 75]), use in worship (Ps. 92), and a circumstance that led to composition (Ps. 51). Information in the title gives hints concerning how psalms were written and brought into a final collection.

Composition

As mentioned, the titles of the psalms often give indications of authorship and occasionally name the circumstance that led to the writing of the psalm. A good example is Ps. 51, where the title states, “For the director of music. A psalm of David. When the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba.” The title connects the psalm with the events recorded in 2 Sam. 11–12 and suggests that David wrote the song in response to his sin and Nathan’s confrontation.

Although only a handful of the psalms have such a historical title, it is likely that most psalms were composed in response to some specific circumstance that encouraged the author to write. Interestingly, though, the psalmists do not speak about the specific circumstance in the psalm itself. Psalm 51, for instance, fits perfectly with the situation that the title describes in that it expresses guilt toward God and asks for forgiveness, but nowhere does it speak specifically about adultery. The psalmists do this intentionally because they are writing the song not as a memorial to an event, but rather as a prayer that others who have had similar though not identical experiences can use after them. Thus, Ps. 51 has been used as a model prayer for many penitents, whether they have sinned like David or in another way.

Most modern hymns have a similar background. John Newton, for instance, was inspired to write “Amazing Grace” because of awe that he felt at his conversion to Christianity from the evil of being a slave trader. However, when he wrote it, he wanted others to sing it as reflecting not on his conversion but on their own.

Collection

The psalms were composed over a thousand-year period. Thus, it appears that the book of Psalms was a growing collection until it came to a close at an unknown time between the writing of the two Testaments.

In 1 Chron. 16:7–36 we may get a glimpse of how the process worked. The text describes David turning a musical composition over to the Levitical musician Asaph and his associates. It is likely that the priests kept an official copy of the book of Psalms in the holy place (the temple while it stood). The psalms, after all, were the hymns of ancient Israel. Their primary function was as a corporate book of prayer, though certainly they could be used in private devotions (note Hannah’s prayer in 1 Sam. 2:1–10 and its relationship to Ps. 113).

Organization and Structure

The psalms have no obvious organization that explains the location of all the psalms. They are not organized in terms of genre, authorship, time of composition, or length. There is only one statement about organization, found in Ps. 72:20: “This concludes the prayers of David son of Jesse.” In the light of this comment, it is surprising that a number of Davidic psalms appear in subsequent sections (Pss. 101; 103; 108–110; 122; 124; 131; 133; 138–145). The best explanation is that at one point Ps. 72 concluded the Davidic psalms, but there was a reorganization before the canonical order was permanently closed.

A number of contemporary theories try to find some deep structure to the book, but it is best to refrain from speculation in regard to the overall structure. Nonetheless, a few structural characteristics are obvious. First, the division of Psalms into five books seems to reflect the fivefold division of the Pentateuch:

I. Book 1 (Pss. 1–41)

II. Book 2 (Pss. 42–72)

III. Book 3 (Pss. 73–89)

IV. Book 4 (Pss. 90–106)

V. Book 5 (Pss. 107–150)

Each book ends with a doxology. Such an intentional association with the Pentateuch would lend support to the Psalter’s claim to authority. Although these are prayers to God, they are also God’s word.

Second, within the Psalter there are subcollections. That is, there are psalms that came into the book not individually but as a group. The best-known such group are the Psalms of Ascent (Pss. 120–134), probably so named because worshipers sang them while going up (ascending) to the Temple Mount during one of the annual religious festivals in Jerusalem.

Third, it appears that psalms are intentionally placed at the beginning and at the end of the book to serve as an introduction and a conclusion. Psalms 1–2 serve as an introduction that alerts the reader to the twin important themes of law and messiah. Psalm 1 pronounces a blessing on those who love God’s law. The psalms, after all, are an intimate and personal conversation with God. One must be on the side of the godly to enter such a holy textual space, just as one must be godly to enter the precincts of the temple. After the reader enters, Psalm 2 provides an encounter with God and his anointed one (messiah). At the end of the book, the last five psalms (Pss. 146–150) constitute a tremendous doxology of praise.

This leads to the final observation on structure. Psalms of lament predominate at the beginning of the book, but they give way to hymns of praise toward the end. It is almost as if one enters the Psalter mourning and leaves it praising. Indeed, the Psalter brings the reader into contact with God and thus transforms the reader from sadness to joy.

Literary Considerations

Genre. The individual psalms may be identified as songs, prayers, or poems. Specifically, they are lyric poems (expressing the emotions of the poet), often addressed to God, and set to musical accompaniment. Although the categories overlap, seven different types of psalms can be recognized, with the first three being by far the most common.

• Lament. The largest single group of psalms are the laments, characterized by the expression of unhappy emotions: sadness, disappointment, anger, worry. The lamenters call on God to save them, even while at times complaining about God’s actions toward them (Ps. 42:9–10). Some laments contain petitions for forgiveness (Ps. 51), while others assert innocence of any wrongdoing (Ps. 26). A few laments even contain curses directed toward the enemies who are trying to harm the psalmist (Ps. 69:19–28). Most laments end by praising God or reaffirming confidence in God (Ps. 130:7–8). Usually the reason for the change from mourning to rejoicing is not given, but Ps. 77 pinpoints the reason as the memory of God’s great salvation events in the past (vv. 10, 16–20). One psalm, Ps. 88, laments but never makes the turn, remaining in the pit of despair. Yet even here we have a glimmer of hope in that the one who laments is still speaking to God.

• Thanksgiving. When God answers a lament, the response is thanksgiving. Psalms of thanksgiving are very similar to hymns (see below), but they cite an earlier problem that God has addressed. Psalm 30 praises God for restoring the psalmist’s good fortune and health after he suffered due to his earlier arrogance that led him to forget God (vv. 6–7).

• Hymn. Hymns are psalms of unalloyed praise directed toward God. The psalmists often call for others to join their worship of God (Ps. 100).

• Remembrance. While many psalms evoke memories of God’s actions in the past (as the lament in Ps. 77 recalls the exodus), certain psalms focus on rehearsing the actions of God in the past. Psalm 136 is one of the most memorable examples. As a liturgical psalm, it recites a divine action (“[God] swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea” [v. 15]) followed by a congregational response (“His love endures forever”).

• Confidence. These psalms are defined by their mood of quiet trust in God even in the midst of trouble. They often present a reassuring image of God. The picture of God as a shepherd in Ps. 23 or as a mother in Ps. 131 are good examples.

• Wisdom. Some psalms meditate on the law (Pss. 1; 119) or have interests similar to those of wisdom literature, such as Job, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes (Pss. 49; 73).

• Kingship. A number of psalms praise God as king (Ps. 47) or the human king as his agent (Pss. 20–21) or both (Ps. 2).

Style. The psalms are poems, and so their style is characterized by the use of parallelism and figurative language. Poetry is also notable for its short lines. A poet packs a lot of meaning into very few words. So it is important to slow down and reflect on a psalm in order to derive its maximum effect. Besides brevity of expression, parallelism, and figurative language, poets create interest by using other literary tools. The psalmists use these poetic devices not only to inform their readers’ intellect but also to stimulate their imagination and arouse their emotions. (See also Acrostic; Imagery; Poetry.)

Theological Message

Although the psalms are not theological essays, readers can learn about God and their relationship with God from these poems. The book of Psalms is a bit like a portrait gallery of God, using images to describe who he is and the nature of our relationship with him. Some examples include God as shepherd (Ps. 23), king (Ps. 47), warrior (Ps. 98), and mother (Ps. 131), and the list could be greatly expanded. Each one of these picture images casts light on the nature of God and also the nature of our relationship with God. After all, the aforementioned psalms explicitly or implicitly describe God’s people as sheep, subjects, soldiers, and children.

Connection to the New Testament and Today

Jesus himself draws attention to Psalms as a book that anticipated his coming suffering and glorification (Luke 24:25–27, 44). The Gospels recognized that Jesus’ zeal for God was well expressed by Ps. 69:9 (John 2:17). When at the apex of his suffering on the cross, Jesus uttered the words found in Ps. 22:1 (Matt. 27:46). The NT writers also saw that Jesus was the fulfillment of the covenant that promised that a son of David would have an everlasting throne (2 Sam. 7:16). Accordingly, the royal psalms (e.g., Pss. 2; 110) often were applied to Jesus, who is the Messiah (the Christ, “the anointed one”).

Today we read Psalms not only as an ancient witness to the coming work of Christ but also, as John Calvin put it, as a mirror of our souls. The psalms were written for worshipers who came after them with similar though not identical joys and problems. The psalms should become models of our prayers.

The Bible contains two kinds of statements related to proper conduct. Some of them describe the nature of God, the sort of world he created, and what he has done for particular groups of people. It also contains statements telling us what we ought to do, both as creatures of this God and, in some instances, as the unique beneficiaries of his redemptive activity. Consequently, the Bible sets forth a moral viewpoint or ethical system, supported by reasons that justify its content and urgency. The writers of Scripture were not moral philosophers, outlining their position in technical detail; nevertheless, they intended to reveal what pleases our God and Savior, so that the saints are “thoroughly equipped for every good work” (2 Tim. 3:16–17). The Bible, therefore, is the foundational resource for moral discernment, the definitive statement of what Christians must do and who they must become.

The Sources of Moral Knowledge

Scripture identifies two sources of moral knowledge. First, all human beings have the law of God “written on their hearts” (Rom. 2:15). We have a conscience, a God-given awareness of right and wrong that acquits or convicts us, depending on how we respond to it. The fall of humankind has damaged this source of knowledge, and our consciences can become “seared” through chronic disobedience and doctrinal treason (1 Tim. 4:2). We do not, therefore, see infallibly what our duties are. Nevertheless, the apostle Paul argues that every human being knows enough of God’s law—and indeed, enough about his nature as God—to eliminate every defense on judgment day (Rom. 1:18–20). No one will be able to say to God in that hour, “I had no idea who you were and no hint of what you expected of me.”

Second, as noted above, we have the Bible as a source of knowledge, this one being fully adequate and sufficiently clear to guide our choices. Knowing Scripture is necessary for Christian ethics because it offers a high-definition view of what conscience can (even in its best moments) scarcely grasp. The Bible proclaims not only what the church must do, often in straightforward, concrete terms, but also (at least, in many cases) why God’s will has its particular content and why obedience is an emergency, not a safely deferred, improvement project. The Bible does not, and really could not, answer every ethical question put to it in unambiguous detail. New technologies and cultural shifts have created dilemmas unimagined in the first century or any previous age. But the church can be assured that a faithful reading of and response to Scripture will, by the grace of God, please him even today, whatever our particular circumstances.

The Logic of Biblical Morality

The moral teaching of Scripture has an identifiable structure consisting of duties and final objectives. When we obey God’s commandments, which is our duty, his ultimate goals or objectives in creating us are realized. In this sense, biblical morality is complete and informative compared to systems derived from other worldviews. It explains what life is all about, but also what we must do from day to day. This entire picture emerges from Scripture because its theological statements are always practically applied and never presented with merely theoretical interest.

The objectives of biblical morality. The objectives of an ethical system are its final ends or purposes: the results that obedience is supposed to yield. In the Bible, two objectives have this ultimate significance, one being the anticipated side effect of the other.

To glorify God. The biblical writers proclaim the spectacular goodness of God. He is maximally excellent in all ways as the Creator, including wisdom, power, justice, and love. He is the holy God who, almost in spite of that fact, loves us and gave his Son, Jesus, to suffer for our sins so that we might live eternally in his presence. In these respects, God stands alone, not simply in experience but necessarily so. No one ever has, and no one ever could, be like him. Thus, the final objective of all human striving must be to glorify this God—to know him, to praise him, and to value what he values. Our actions must testify to his excellence, honoring him and encouraging others to do likewise. Obedience treasures what God treasures, shuns what he abhors, and allows his power to work in our lives, causing us to live in unity with our fellow believers. These patterns of behavior define what it means to glorify God.

To be happy in God’s presence. The second goal or objective of biblical morality is to be happy in ways that are proper for God’s creatures. In this sense, the Christian system of ethics differs from moral theories that either reject happiness altogether, viewing it as an unworthy goal, or else reduce it to a merely practical necessity—that is, we sinners need our incentives. On the contrary, the God of Scripture plainly desires our happiness and often presents himself as the final source of it when calling his people to obedience. This tendency follows from the perfect goodness of God and his freedom in creating all things. He did not have to make anything else, but he did so; and because he has no needs, his purposes must have been selfless rather than selfish. He created in order to give rather than to get, and the very best he desires for any of us is the happiness that results from our glorifying him together, as one body in Christ. Likewise, then, biblical morality differs from ethical systems that make human happiness an intrinsic good, so that any means to it is acceptable. God wants us to be happy, but our happiness must come from bringing him glory. All other forms of happiness are deceptive and transitory. The heavenly scenes of the book of Revelation show the church what happiness God has in store for them if they overcome the trials of this life (so, e.g., Rev. 4–5; 7; 21–22; cf. 1 Cor. 2:9; Heb. 12:2).

The means of biblical morality. Not surprisingly, the Bible also shows us how to glorify God—how to reflect his majesty in our daily lives, how to praise him, and how to value what he values. Within the whole of this teaching, several major themes can be discerned, five leading examples of which appear below, allowing some overlap between them.

Trusting in God’s promises. Biblical faith is the confidence that God will do for us what he has promised. We believe that he can and will meet our needs and not allow us to endure pointless suffering. When we trust him, we proclaim his greatness and acknowledge our own dependence upon him. Both Rom. 4 and Heb. 11 make this point in ways that reflect upon OT history with an application to the present Christian life. The gospel is a promise concerning the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ; and faith assures us that God will reckon these events to our account. Conversely, we often violate God’s commandments because we doubt that he will give us what we need when we need it (so, e.g., Abraham’s capitulation to Sarah in Gen. 16, with its corresponding negative results).

Keeping holiness and impurity separated. God is the all-powerful, all-knowing, morally perfect Creator of the universe. All things depend on him for their existence, and he is extreme both in his commitment to justice and his desire to love. Consequently, God’s creatures encounter him as “holy,” as the ominously transcendent or dangerously perfect deity. He stands alone, apart from everything else, and life in his presence cannot entail business as usual. The shorthand way of expressing this duty is to say that we ourselves must be holy, as he is holy, by shunning all forms of impurity. In this way, for example, the ancient Israelites prepared themselves to enter Yahweh’s presence and gave him public honor (Lev. 11:44; 19:2; Ps. 24:3–4; Isa. 6:1–5; cf. 1 Pet. 1:15–16).

In Scripture, the distinction between the pure and the impure, or the holy and the unholy, is sometimes intrinsic and sometimes pedagogical. Breaking any of the Ten Commandments makes one intrinsically impure. It is always evil, everywhere, for anyone to have other gods, make idols, and disrespect parents. It is evil to lie, steal, and murder. Even breaking the Sabbath is wrong if it expresses unbelief in God’s ability and willingness to provide. But some lines between purity and impurity—or, in other cases, just between the sacred and the common—seem to be drawn by God for instructional purposes only. They do not separate good from evil as such, but they compel the Israelites to “practice Yahweh’s presence” by honoring boundaries imposed on domestic life. It is not evil to eat pork, but doing that is forbidden in the OT and permitted in the NT (Lev. 11:7; Mark 7:19). It is not evil to wear blended cloth, but doing that is forbidden in the OT and passed over in the NT (Lev. 19:19). Therefore, as suggested, Levitical rules of this kind must have had some instrumental purpose, serving an objective beyond themselves. They impose the holiness of Yahweh on everyday choices, as the Holy Spirit now presses the claims of God upon his church. This separation of impurity and holiness is, in any case, a constant theme in the OT, and it carries over into the NT as well, where it informs the question “What must I do to be saved?” (cf. Acts 16:30).

Imitating God/Christ. The biblical writers also construe the moral life as an imitation of God and/or Christ, especially when the virtues of mercy, humility, and endurance are at stake. In the OT, Yahweh’s behavior toward people becomes the standard for Israel’s own conduct. So, for example, he says, “But let the one who boasts boast about this: that they have the understanding to know me, that I am the Lord, who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth, for in these I delight” (Jer. 9:24). In the NT, similar inferences appear, as when Jesus says, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” (Matt. 5:9), the son being one who follows in his father’s footsteps. We must love our enemies, so that we may be “children of (our) Father in heaven” (Matt. 5:44–45). We must “be perfect,” as he is perfect (Matt. 5:48). Jesus commands his disciples to wash one another’s feet, after his own example (John 13:14–15). They must love each other as he has loved them (John 15:12). The new commandment to love one another, following the Lord’s example, puts on display his character and their own relationship to him (13:34–35). Jesus prays that his disciples will be “one,” just as the Father and the Son are one (17:22). Paul’s hymn in Phil. 2:5–11 serves this purpose: we must imitate the humility that surrendered all, even to the point of crucifixion. Hebrews 12:1–2 holds up Christ as one who “for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame,” resulting in his glory.

Living out our unique identity. Scripture defines the moral ideal for all persons, whoever they are, because its perspective is not relativistic. Murder, idolatry, and lying are not wrong for some and right for others. Nevertheless, most of the Bible’s moral teaching has a target audience, so that it often contains inferences to this effect: “You shall do X (or doing X is urgent for you), either (a) because you belong to God in a special way or (b) because he has done this special thing for you.” In the OT, the target audience is Israel; in the NT, the corresponding group is the church. In both Testaments, however, the same ethical particularism operates, thereby giving the moral exhortations of Paul and Peter, to cite two clear examples, a recognizably “Jewish” structure or theme.

The linkage between gift and task, or supernatural identity and behavior, is the basic structure of the Sinai covenant itself. The text moves from prologue, “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt,” to moral exhortation, beginning with, “You shall have no other gods before me” (Exod. 20:1–3; Deut. 5:6–7). Echoes of this prologue also occur frequently in the OT as motive clauses. God will say, in effect, “You shall do X, for I am the Lord your God,” or “You shall not do Y, for I am the Lord your God who brought you out of Egypt.” In some cases, the motive clause identifies the people themselves, as in, “For you are a people holy to the Lord your God. The Lord your God has chosen you out of all the peoples on the face of the earth to be his people, his treasured possession” (Deut. 7:6). Or again, “You are the children of the Lord your God. Do not cut yourselves or shave the front of your heads for the dead, for you are a people holy to the Lord your God. Out of all the peoples on the face of the earth, the Lord has chosen you to be his treasured possession” (Deut. 14:1–2). In some cases, God refers to the people’s unique condition to shame them, as in, “When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my son. But the more they were called, the more they went away from me” (Hos. 11:1–2). Loyalty was especially urgent, given Israel’s experience of God’s particular love.

In the NT, the mandate to live out one’s special identity appears often, especially (though not exclusively) in the writings of Paul and Peter. In Rom. 6 those who have been emancipated from sin must resist its waning influence. In Rom. 8 those who are under the Holy Spirit’s new management must walk in accordance with him and shun the mind-set of the flesh. The Corinthians have become an unleavened batch of dough; therefore, they must “Get rid of the old yeast,” which tolerates extraordinary sin (1 Cor. 5). The members of Christ’s one body are to function as one new humanity (1 Cor. 12:12–31). If the Galatians live by the Spirit, they must also walk by the Spirit (Gal. 5:25). Peter tells his readers to love one another because they have been “born again” of “imperishable seed” (1 Pet. 1:22–23). They are a “chosen race,” a “royal priesthood,” and a “holy nation”; therefore, they must proclaim his excellence and abstain from carnal passions (1 Pet. 2:9–11). Jesus himself says that because he is the vine and we are the branches, we must abide in him (John 15:1–11). In all these cases, the target audience has a special relationship to God that imposes on them corresponding duties or priorities, so that they reflect his holiness, value what he values, and attain the goals that he has set before them.

Living in unity with one another. The first sin separated God from humankind and damaged all other relationships (Gen. 3). From that point onward, Adam and Eve would live in tension (Gen. 3:16), and their son Cain kills his brother Abel (Gen. 4:8). Disunity results from sin; and in some cases, God scatters sinners as judgment on their wickedness (e.g., Gen. 11:1–9; 1 Kings 11). It is “good and pleasant” when “God’s people live together in unity” (Ps. 133:1), and obedience to OT teaching would make them do so. Nevertheless, sin stands between Yahweh and his people, and it stands between one Israelite and another. Disunity, in all these dimensions, is the unfinished business of the OT story.

The NT presents unity as both an effect and a duty (or a gift and a task) of the new life in Christ. We are one in Christ, and we must live in unity of fellowship with one another. Jews and Gentiles—indeed, people from all walks of life—become one body, a new kind of people, defined by relationships that are “thicker than blood,” so to speak, as blood is thicker than water. Paul, as the apostle to the Gentiles, enforces this theme throughout his letters, so that his exhortations concentrate on the church, in the first instance, rather than the individual. Christians must display the social virtues of love and humility, resisting selfish ambition and pride, both of which separate believer from believer and each from the head of the church, who is Christ. Romans and Ephesians make a positive case for Christian unity among Jews and Gentiles, while Philippians (perhaps, in a broader sense, also Galatians and Colossians) confronts a divisive tendency. The essential vice denounced in 1–2 Corinthians is arrogant grandstanding, which rejects Paul’s “message of the cross” (1 Cor. 1:18) and subdivides the church into cults of personality. Worldly forces are centrifugal, leading us away from one another and into competition for influence, wealth, and public honor. In contrast, the Holy Spirit’s force is centripetal, creating unity where no one would expect it and leading each person to self-sacrifice so that others in the body of Christ might be built up in him.

“Food sacrificed to idols” refers both to the part of pagan sacrifices that was burned for a god and what was left over, whether eaten at a temple meal or sold in a market. Since most meat in the first century was butchered at temples, Christians faced the dilemma of whether to eat it. At times, NT writers viewed it as spiritual adultery and forbade it, along with sexual immorality (Rev. 2:14, 20). At other times, believers were encouraged not to partake of it in order to preserve Christian harmony. Thus, when the members of the Jerusalem council determined that Gentile believers need not convert to Judaism, they included eating food sacrificed to idols among the four things to be avoided because they were particularly repulsive to Jews (Acts 15:20). In a setting where Jewish scruples were less influential, some Corinthian believers concluded that eating sacrificed meat would compromise their faith, since demons behind the idols received the offerings. Others felt free to eat such meat, trusting their knowledge that since idols were not really gods, meat sacrificed to them remained unaffected. Although Paul permits the purchase of meat in a market, since all things belong to the Lord (1 Cor. 10:25–26; cf. Ps. 24:1), and allows eating whatever unbelievers serve without asking questions, he rejects open participation in pagan sacrifices as incompatible with participation in the Lord’s Supper (1 Cor. 10:21). He further exhorts his readers to set aside their freedom to eat meat if it would harm the conscience of either weaker believers or unbelievers (1 Cor. 8; 10:27–32).

Also known as kherem warfare or Yahweh war. The term “holy war,” though never used in the Bible, characterizes well the wars that Israel fought at God’s command, particularly those within the Promised Land. God is present with Israel in war, and thus the battlefield becomes holy ground. God gives Israel instructions concerning the waging of war in Deut. 7, 20. From these passages, plus the historical accounts of Israel’s wars, we can describe holy war as follows.

Before the Battle

God tells Israel when to go to war. Israel’s leaders cannot engage in battle without first hearing from God. God reveals himself to Joshua, for instance, before the battle of Jericho to give him instructions (Josh. 5:13–15). David inquires of God through the priest Abiathar, who presumably uses oracular devices to discover God’s will (1 Sam. 23:1–6). Joshua makes a serious error in not seeking God’s will in the matter of the Gibeonites (Josh. 9:14).

Once the Israelites learn that God wants them to go to battle, they must spiritually prepare themselves. Since God makes his presence known on the battlefield, the troops must be in a state of ritual purity comparable to those who visit the sanctuary. Before the conquest, for instance, it is necessary for the fighting men to undergo circumcision and to observe the Passover (Josh. 5:2–12). Prebattle sacrifices are also required (1 Sam. 13).

During the Battle

The Ark of the Covenant plays a central role in holy war, carried by priests and accompanying the army. The ark is a powerful symbol of God’s presence and indicates to the army that God fights for them. The march into battle takes the form of a religious procession. The priests carrying the ark go first, while singers praise God (2 Chron. 20:20–21). The long march in the wilderness has the character of such a march into battle, since Moses begins the day’s journey by shouting, “Rise up, Lord! May your enemies be scattered; may your foes flee before you” (Num. 10:35). Then the ark carried by priests leads the way.

Since God is present with the army, the number of troops and the quality of their weapons are unimportant. Indeed, on occasion when Israel has an ample supply of troops, God commands that the war leader reduce their number, as in the famous story of Gideon paring down his troops from thirty-two thousand to three hundred. The purpose of this reduction is to demonstrate to the people with certainty that they win the battle only because of God’s strength. The inexperienced David, armed with a slingshot, expresses this sentiment to the mercenary giant Goliath before he kills him: “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. . . . All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give all of you into our hands” (1 Sam. 17:45, 47). Although the Israelites must engage the enemy, they know for certain that it is God who provides the victory.

After the Battle

Since God wins the battle for Israel, the proper response is praise. The OT contains many songs that celebrate victory in warfare (Exod. 15; Judg. 5; Pss. 24; 98; 149).

The treatment of the plunder and prisoners of war depends on whether the battle takes place in the promised land. If the battle takes place outside the land, then, while the men are killed, the women and children are spared. If the battle takes place in the land, then kherem goes into effect. The Hebrew word kherem is difficult to translate (possibilities include “complete destruction,” “things under the ban,” “things devoted to the Lord”), but it is clear that it means that all the plunder goes to God (the sanctuary treasury) and that all the people (men, women, and children), and sometimes all the animals, are killed. The purpose of this is to keep the inhabitants of the land from influencing Israel to worship other gods. Also, God uses Israel as an instrument of his judgment against these sinful nations.

Warfare against Israel

While most divinely ordained warfare was directed toward Israel’s enemies, God also used foreign nations to judge his sinful people. The initial defeat at Ai (Josh. 7), the capture of the ark by the Philistines at the time of Eli (1 Sam. 4), and the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple by the Babylonians (Lam. 2) are examples.

New Testament Holy War

The prophets who ministered during the exilic and postexilic periods announced that God would appear again in the future. The people of Israel were living under the oppressive hand of Babylon and then Persia, but they were comforted by the idea that God would come and save them from their enemies (Dan. 7; Zech. 14; Mal. 4).

When the NT opens, John the Baptist proclaims that the time of judgment announced by these prophets has come (Matt. 3:7–12). After he baptizes Jesus, he is put in prison and hears reports of Jesus’ ministry that disturb him. He wonders why Jesus is not bringing violent judgment against the enemies of God (Matt. 11:1–15). But Jesus has heightened and intensified the warfare so that it is directed against the “powers and principalities,” and this battle is won with spiritual weapons (2 Cor. 10:3–6; Eph. 6:10–20). Indeed, the ultimate victory is achieved not by killing but by dying. Paul describes the crucifixion and ascension using warfare language in Eph. 4:7–10; Col. 2:13–15.

John, however, was not wrong. The book of Revelation is the fullest statement of Christ’s return, which will signal the final war. In this war, all evil, both spiritual and human, will be brought to an end (Rev. 19:11–21).

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

Heaven and Earth

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

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

The Theology of Land

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

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

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

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

Inheritance

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both Testaments proclaim, “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it” (Ps. 24:1; 1 Cor. 10:26). Only the Lord and Creator of the universe can rightfully claim ownership over anything, be it physical, spiritual, or moral (Job 41:11). Thus, “every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights” (James 1:17). He even owns human beings themselves. In a biblical worldview, God alone exercises ownership. People, however, exercise stewardship over what he has given.

Scripture guides and regulates human relationships with respect to owning property. While people are ultimately only stewards, they must never wrongly take or desire what God has entrusted to others. Therefore God commands, “You shall not steal” (Exod. 20:15) and “You shall not covet” (20:17). The book of Proverbs explains how to wisely dispose of one’s goods (Prov. 3:9, 10; 11:25; 22:9), as does Jesus’ parable of the talents (Matt. 25:14–30). Numerous passages teach that human “ownership” should be earned through work, if possible (Jer. 29:5–7; 2 Thess. 3:10). People should acknowledge their possessions as gifts from God by giving to the poor (Eph. 4:28) and to God’s appointed leaders, both secular and Christian: “Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s” (Mark 12:17 [cf. Rom. 13:6; 1 Tim. 5:18]).

In fact, the whole Bible can be read as the drama of the divine owner relating to his human stewards. At creation, God charges Adam and Eve “to work . . . and take care of” the garden (Gen. 2:15), thereby entrusting all creation to human care. In disobedience they abuse their stewardship, as will their offspring. In the fall, humankind forfeits God’s benefits in paradise (Gen. 3); he disowns his unfaithful stewards. The rest of Scripture relates how God redeems a people for himself, adopting the disinherited back into his household. He begins by promising Abraham that his offspring, Israel, will possess a land, Canaan (Gen. 17:8), which will be a kind of new paradise (Exod. 3:8). The Israelites conquer the territory, but over time they prove to be unfaithful stewards. After breaking God’s covenant, they lose the land in exile.

Jesus’ parable of the landowner in Matt. 21:33–44 is basically a capsule version of this grand biblical story. Both come to a climax when God sends his Son, Jesus Christ. He comes to “buy back” his people from their sins as the one faithful servant (Mark 10:45), even unto death on a cross (Phil. 2:8). Jesus pays for his elect’s adoption with his blood, so now believers partake in God’s ownership over all things. “All things are yours, whether . . . the world or life or death or the present or the future—all are yours, and you are of Christ, and Christ is of God” (1 Cor. 3:21–23).

The management of available resources in the recognition that God is the owner and provider of all things. The Bible is clear that God is the maker and owner of all things. The psalmist wrote, “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it” (Ps. 24:1). God told Job, “Everything under heaven belongs to me” (Job 41:11). In the same way, God says, “The silver is mine and the gold is mine” (Hag. 2:8). Stewardship is based upon the principle that God is the maker of all things. Since God is the creator and owner of all things, God’s followers are charged with managing what he has given.

The term “steward” is used in the OT to refer to Joseph’s steward (Gen. 43:19; 44:1, 4) and to Arza, who was the steward of Baasha’s son Elah, who reigned over Israel (1 Kings 16:9 KJV). The steward was the manager who oversaw all household operations. Having a great deal of responsibility, the slave or servant in this position had to be someone whom the owner trusted. Jesus used similar terms in referring to a household manager in some of his parables (Matt. 20:8; Luke 16:1, 3). The concept of stewardship is applied to the believer as God’s servant. Believers are stewards for God in the sense that they manage God’s resources in this world.

The biblical concept of stewardship begins with Adam and Eve being charged with the responsibility of caring for the creative work of God (Gen. 2:15). In the garden of Eden, humankind was given the responsibility to care for the earth, manage it, and have dominion over it. On an individual level, all that Christians possess is intended to be used for God’s purposes and glory. Biblical stewardship involves more than financial resources, although certainly those are included. Proper stewardship involves managing every resource (time, talent, finances, opportunity) under the leadership of God, who owns it all.

Regarding financial matters, the Bible teaches that a tithe (one-tenth) of one’s income should be returned to God as a reminder that all one has comes from him (Lev. 27:30). The OT concept of the tithe is assumed by Jesus in Matt. 23:23 when he rebukes the scribes and the Pharisees for tithing and yet neglecting more important things such as justice and mercy. However, the tithe is not frequently mentioned in the NT. Rather than focusing on tithing, the NT focuses on the attitude of the believer in giving. Believers are encouraged to give sacrificially (Mark 12:41–44; Acts 2:44–45). In addition, Paul stresses giving in love with generosity (2 Cor. 9:6–8). Giving to others in need is a reflection of trust that God will provide for our own needs as we give to meet the needs of others. God expects that everything that one has will be used in ways that honor him.

Also known as kherem warfare or Yahweh war. The term “holy war,” though never used in the Bible, characterizes well the wars that Israel fought at God’s command, particularly those within the Promised Land. God is present with Israel in war, and thus the battlefield becomes holy ground. God gives Israel instructions concerning the waging of war in Deut. 7, 20. From these passages, plus the historical accounts of Israel’s wars, we can describe holy war as follows.

Before the Battle

God tells Israel when to go to war. Israel’s leaders cannot engage in battle without first hearing from God. God reveals himself to Joshua, for instance, before the battle of Jericho to give him instructions (Josh. 5:13–15). David inquires of God through the priest Abiathar, who presumably uses oracular devices to discover God’s will (1 Sam. 23:1–6). Joshua makes a serious error in not seeking God’s will in the matter of the Gibeonites (Josh. 9:14).

Once the Israelites learn that God wants them to go to battle, they must spiritually prepare themselves. Since God makes his presence known on the battlefield, the troops must be in a state of ritual purity comparable to those who visit the sanctuary. Before the conquest, for instance, it is necessary for the fighting men to undergo circumcision and to observe the Passover (Josh. 5:2–12). Prebattle sacrifices are also required (1 Sam. 13).

During the Battle

The Ark of the Covenant plays a central role in holy war, carried by priests and accompanying the army. The ark is a powerful symbol of God’s presence and indicates to the army that God fights for them. The march into battle takes the form of a religious procession. The priests carrying the ark go first, while singers praise God (2 Chron. 20:20–21). The long march in the wilderness has the character of such a march into battle, since Moses begins the day’s journey by shouting, “Rise up, Lord! May your enemies be scattered; may your foes flee before you” (Num. 10:35). Then the ark carried by priests leads the way.

Since God is present with the army, the number of troops and the quality of their weapons are unimportant. Indeed, on occasion when Israel has an ample supply of troops, God commands that the war leader reduce their number, as in the famous story of Gideon paring down his troops from thirty-two thousand to three hundred. The purpose of this reduction is to demonstrate to the people with certainty that they win the battle only because of God’s strength. The inexperienced David, armed with a slingshot, expresses this sentiment to the mercenary giant Goliath before he kills him: “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. . . . All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord’s, and he will give all of you into our hands” (1 Sam. 17:45, 47). Although the Israelites must engage the enemy, they know for certain that it is God who provides the victory.

After the Battle

Since God wins the battle for Israel, the proper response is praise. The OT contains many songs that celebrate victory in warfare (Exod. 15; Judg. 5; Pss. 24; 98; 149).

The treatment of the plunder and prisoners of war depends on whether the battle takes place in the promised land. If the battle takes place outside the land, then, while the men are killed, the women and children are spared. If the battle takes place in the land, then kherem goes into effect. The Hebrew word kherem is difficult to translate (possibilities include “complete destruction,” “things under the ban,” “things devoted to the Lord”), but it is clear that it means that all the plunder goes to God (the sanctuary treasury) and that all the people (men, women, and children), and sometimes all the animals, are killed. The purpose of this is to keep the inhabitants of the land from influencing Israel to worship other gods. Also, God uses Israel as an instrument of his judgment against these sinful nations.

Warfare against Israel

While most divinely ordained warfare was directed toward Israel’s enemies, God also used foreign nations to judge his sinful people. The initial defeat at Ai (Josh. 7), the capture of the ark by the Philistines at the time of Eli (1 Sam. 4), and the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple by the Babylonians (Lam. 2) are examples.

New Testament Holy War

The prophets who ministered during the exilic and postexilic periods announced that God would appear again in the future. The people of Israel were living under the oppressive hand of Babylon and then Persia, but they were comforted by the idea that God would come and save them from their enemies (Dan. 7; Zech. 14; Mal. 4).

When the NT opens, John the Baptist proclaims that the time of judgment announced by these prophets has come (Matt. 3:7–12). After he baptizes Jesus, he is put in prison and hears reports of Jesus’ ministry that disturb him. He wonders why Jesus is not bringing violent judgment against the enemies of God (Matt. 11:1–15). But Jesus has heightened and intensified the warfare so that it is directed against the “powers and principalities,” and this battle is won with spiritual weapons (2 Cor. 10:3–6; Eph. 6:10–20). Indeed, the ultimate victory is achieved not by killing but by dying. Paul describes the crucifixion and ascension using warfare language in Eph. 4:7–10; Col. 2:13–15.

John, however, was not wrong. The book of Revelation is the fullest statement of Christ’s return, which will signal the final war. In this war, all evil, both spiritual and human, will be brought to an end (Rev. 19:11–21).

Ablutions include a variety of practices found primarily in the OT through which persons washed in order to participate in the most important activities of the community, usually worship. Although terms referring to washing cover a variety of purposes, such as cleansing the hands or bathing (Gen. 18:4; Ruth 3:3; Acts 16:33; 2 Pet. 2:22), when one speaks of ablutions, the focus is upon the necessary tasks of cleansing after suffering separation from participation in the worship of the assembly because of some impurity (Deut. 21:1–9).

Sometimes ablutions were performed as a means of preparing a person for an activity of heightened importance. The priests of the OT underwent such cleansings, though they were not impure in the usual sense of the word (Exod. 30:19–21). The imagery communicated by such practices expressed the extreme holiness necessary to serve God and his people. Indeed, the sense of holiness and purity that pervaded the sacred rites of the OT was a major motivation for all levels of ablutions. For these heightened moments, however, the biblical record goes into extra detail concerning the process by which one could be washed. Special care was taken to avoid recontamination of the priest, the sacred instruments, or the camp itself, which would interfere with or render useless the rite that had been carried out (Lev. 16:4, 24, 26, 28). As with all ceremonial rites, however, the biblical interest is focused more upon the attitude and the heart of the worshiper than the rite itself. The integrity and the holiness of the participant were the true test of standing pure before God, not the ritual of cleansing (Ps. 24:3–6; Isa. 1:11–16).

In the NT, the pattern of emphasis on the inner person begun in the OT received further expression. In the book of Mark, one of the conflict passages recounts an encounter between Jesus and the Pharisees regarding the extent of ritual cleansing necessary in one’s life (7:1–16). Jesus proclaimed, in full harmony with the OT, that it has always been the character of the individual that made a person clean or unclean, and that the washings of old were symbolic of that status, not determinative of it. Despite this, it seems that Jewish Christians of the first century chose to continue the practice of ritual washings. The writer of Hebrews argues that the use of such is both an illustration of the pure life (10:22) and a practice that may be considered unnecessary in light of what Christ had accomplished through his perfect work (6:2; 9:10).

Generally speaking, the source of washing for such ceremonial cleansing had to be “living water”; that is, it had to be moving. This could be obtained by pouring the water, by visiting a dedicated ceremonial bath, or by carrying out the washing in a location that already had moving water, such as a river. There is little question, based upon the similarities of early baptismal practices and the ceremonial baths uncovered at Qumran and elsewhere, that NT baptism draws many of its intentions and expressions from the OT ablutions. As such, the same observations about washings made above can be drawn concerning baptism. It is symbolic of an internal reality (Eph. 5:26); it is intended as a means of expressing community between the participant and the greater body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:13); and it is reflective of a higher calling of Christ to live holy lives (Acts 10:47).