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

Colossians is a letter sent by Paul to a church in Colossae when he was in prison. The letter was Paul’s first direct contact with the church, which may have been started by one of his missionary associates, Epaphras (Col. 1:7). Epaphras was from Colossae (4:12), a city of Asia Minor located in the Lycus Valley, known for its fertile soil and green pastures. Some commentators suggest that Epaphras also started churches in Hierapolis and Laodicea (4:13), neighboring cities in the valley that were situated around the Lycus River about ten miles apart. Colossae was a free city located on the main Roman road that ran from Ephesus and Sardis toward the east, and it was populated by native Phrygians, as well as Greeks, Romans, and Jews. More than likely, the church was founded during Paul’s extended ministry in Ephesus, where persons from the region heard Paul’s gospel and from where Paul sent missionary associates such as Epaphras into the surrounding cities (Acts 19). Tychicus, the letter carrier (Col. 4:7–8), was also one of Paul’s associates from the same region; he decided to accompany Paul to Macedonia after the team left Ephesus (Acts 20:4).

The close association of these churches in Asia Minor and the time frame when the letters were written may explain why Paul’s letter to the Colossians is so similar in content to his letter to the Ephesians. Paul was in prison (probably in Rome) when he sent both of these letters (Eph. 3:1; Col. 4:10, 18). The instructions regarding Tychicus, the carrier for both letters, are identical, nearly verbatim (Eph. 6:21–22; Col. 4:7–8). The letters share the same outline, following some of the same themes, especially toward the end, where Paul gives instructions regarding the household. An affinity also exists between Colossians and Philemon, a letter sent to the patron of one of the house churches in Colossae. Most of the names mentioned by Paul appear in both letters: Timothy, Onesimus, Archippus, Epaphras, Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, and Luke (Col. 1:1; 4:9–17; Philem. 1, 10, 23–24). Paul was also in prison, along with Epaphras, at the time he sent his letter to Philemon. All of this indicates that these letters were written about the same time, from the same place, to the same region. Why did Paul send three letters to the same region, especially since letter production was so expensive? Why not send one letter to the entire region (like Galatians), to be read by all the house churches? Obviously, the problems of each church were so different that they required a separate authoritative word from their apostle.

Questionable Practices in Colossae

The Colossians were doing several things that Paul found troublesome, as we learn from Col. 2. They were judging each other for not keeping certain dietary regulations and holy days (2:16). Some were claiming superiority through personal worship experiences that involved visions of angels (2:18). Some subscribed to strict discipline of the human body, punishing themselves through various acts of self-abasement in order to curb fleshly appetites (2:23) and enhance their worship experiences (2:18). It seems that many of them were trying to live by an expanded version of the divine command given in the story of Adam, Eve, and the forbidden fruit: “Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!” (2:21). Paul recognized that all these claims and rules had the “appearance of wisdom” but in reality were nothing more than traditions based on “self-imposed” religion, and that such ascetic practices were useless in denying fleshly appetites (2:22–23). Where did the Colossians get all these strange ideas that led to such bizarre behavior?

Paul described the false teaching as an imprisoning “through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces” in opposition to the teachings of Christ (2:8). Because the Colossian church was made up primarily of Gentile converts (1:27), many interpreters argue that the problems resulted from the meshing of the gospel with local, pagan ways. The Phrygians were known for their fascination with magical rituals, the ability to manipulate the powers (earth, wind, fire, spirits, angels, often referred to as “elementary principles of the world”) for human purposes. Paul’s description of the false teaching as a “hollow and deceptive philosophy” based on the “human tradition” may also reveal the influence of Greek ideas and Roman ways in the church. The Greeks operated with a dualistic worldview of spirit versus flesh, leading some philosophers to argue that punishing the body ensured purity of the soul. Furthermore, the Romans believed that the gods had given them power to rule the world, bringing fertility to the lands of conquered peoples. Worshiping Caesar brought economic rewards to devoted subjects of the empire. In other words, all this talk in the Colossian letter about power and sovereignty, philosophy and self-discipline was Paul’s way of dealing directly with the root of the problem: the syncretism of pagan ways and the gospel according to Paul.

Some interpreters believe that all these peculiar teachings derive not from pagan religions but rather from Judaism. After all, Paul’s references to observing the Sabbath, keeping commandments, and angelic worship point toward a Jewish context. Paul also affirmed that his Gentile converts were “circumcised with a circumcision not performed by human hands” (2:11), perhaps revealing his concern that Jewish ways were creeping into his Gentile church. He even put the church on notice, identifying those among “the circumcision” (Jews) who were trustworthy ministers of the gospel (he mentions only three, Barnabas, John Mark, and Jesus called Justus [4:10–11]). The implication, of course, was to ignore the rest of “the circumcision.” But if the troublemakers in Colossae were Jewish opponents of Paul, how does one explain all the mystical and ascetic elements of this false teaching? Some argue that the expression “worship of angels” was not an idolatrous practice of venerating angelic beings. Instead, the phrase should be translated “angelic worship,” implying that some Colossians claimed to have been transported to heaven and joined the angels in worship of God. This may have been similar to the experiences of an obscure form of Judaism: Jewish mystics who claimed to preserve esoteric revelations through out-of-body experiences of heavenly visions and auditions (see Paul’s description in 2 Cor. 12:1–7). Furthermore, the strict dietary code and sexual ethic of Jewish law were often interpreted by first-century pagans as promoting an ascetic lifestyle. In other words, Paul was countering a more cryptic branch of Judaism that flourished in a region known for its affinity for the mysterious.

Outline and Content

I. Introduction (1:1–14)

A. Greeting (1:1–2)

B. Thanksgiving (1:3–8)

C. Prayer (1:9–14)

II. The Person and Work of Christ (1:15–23)

III. Paul’s Role in Christ’s Mission to the Gentiles (1:24–2:5)

IV. False Teaching versus the Work of Christ (2:6–23)

V. Instructions on Life in Christ

A. In the church (3:1–17)

B. In the home (3:18–4:1)

VI. Generic Exhortations (4:2–6)

VII. Specific Instructions (4:7–9)

VIII. Final Greetings (4:10–17)

IX. Paul’s Signature (4:18)

Whatever the source of the false teaching referred to in Colossians, Paul attempts to correct the misbehavior of his Gentile converts by building an argument that the work of Christ is all-sufficient. Paul begins the letter by describing the person and work of Christ in cosmic terms (1:15–23). Next he recounts his role in the mission of Christ to bring the riches of the kingdom to Gentiles (1:24–2:5). After reminding the Colossians of their reception of the gospel, Paul juxtaposes the deceptive practices of the false teaching with the evidence of the work of Christ in them (2:6–23). Then he gives a number of instructions on what life in Christ is supposed to look like: in the church (3:1–17) and in the home (3:18–4:1). He concludes the letter with generic exhortations (4:2–6), specific instructions (4:7–9), and greetings (4:10–17). Finally, Paul signs the letter, obviously written by a secretary, with the simple request: “Remember my chains” (4:18)—a curious signature that makes the argument of his letter even more appealing.

The Power and Peace of Christ’s Kingdom

It is ironic that Paul chose to describe the work of Christ in such grandiose terms, picturing him as a mighty ruler over all creation, even while the apostle was in prison—an undeniable sign of Roman sovereignty. In Col. 1, in some of the loftiest language Paul ever used to describe Christ’s kingdom authority, the apostle reminds his converts that the Lord is “the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation” (v. 15), an obvious reference to Christ’s deity. Then Paul piles on the attributes, presenting Christ as the creator of all things, even angelic creatures (v. 16), the sustainer of all things (v. 17), the head of the church, the eternal one, the guarantor of the resurrection (v. 18), the fullness of God (v. 19), the reconciler of all things—the one who made peace with the enemies of God through his blood on the cross (vv. 20–22). Despite Paul’s circumstances and what Rome may claim, the apostle holds fast to the irrepressible sovereignty of Christ’s kingdom, displayed by Paul’s perseverance in the midst of suffering and the full assurance that every Colossian believer is “fully mature in Christ” (vv. 22–29). Indeed, all the treasures of Christ’s kingdom—love, knowledge, wisdom, discipline—are to be found in the life of his converts (2:1–5), unless someone “deludes” them into thinking otherwise.

Paul’s rhetorical strategy of extolling the power of Christ’s kingdom makes perfect sense in light of the false teaching that was plaguing the Colossian church. Apparently, the Colossians were persuaded to feel inadequate about their faith, vulnerable to the imposition of legalistic standards that ensured victory over fleshly indulgences. To counter his opponents, Paul unpacks the significance of the incarnation and the cross (2:9–15). Because Christ was God in flesh (in whom “all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form” [v. 9]), his death on the cross was a cosmic event that defeated all the powers that oppose God. Using military imagery, Paul argues that Christ canceled every debt against humanity when he nailed all “decrees” (even Caesar’s) to the cross. In that singular act of sacrifice, Christ disarmed the foes of God, humiliating them publicly by making a spectacle of them, triumphing over all powers (v. 15)—something that Caesar loved to do after successful military campaigns. Therefore, if Christ’s victory over all powers has been secured through his death, and since he rules as the firstborn of the dead (resurrection) over all creation, and since the Colossians are “fully mature in Christ” (1:28) because of their faith in him, then no pretense of self-abasement or angelic visions can diminish what Christ has done and will continue to do in the lives of Paul’s converts in Colossae. Christ is all they needed to overcome the powers.

In Col. 3, Paul tells how the Colossians draw upon the power of Christ when they “set [their] minds on things above, not on earthly things” (v. 2). The things on the earth are “sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed” (v. 5). Paul believes that his converts died with Christ (“hidden with Christ in God” [v. 3]) and therefore had set aside all these idolatrous practices when they put on the “new self,” being conformed to the image of Christ (vv. 8–10). This renewal will be found in all believers, regardless of ethnicity (v. 11), and will result in peace for all. Indeed, Paul sees the “peace of Christ” as the undeniable evidence of his reign exhibited in the hearts of those who believe (vv. 12–15). And what would that peace look like? Believers will be patient, forgiving one another with hearts full of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and love resulting in unity (vv. 12–14). Their worship of God will be characterized by songs of thankfulness and admonition, receiving the word with wisdom (v. 16). In their homes husbands, wives, and children will model deference and love, and masters and slaves will seek justice and fairness, as if they were serving Christ (3:18–4:1). The Colossians will be devoted to prayer, will treat outsiders fairly, and will be known for always speaking graceful words (4:2–6). In other words, where Caesar’s empire has promoted Roman peace by enforcing Roman law in provinces, cities, and households, Paul believes that the peace of Christ will rule the hearts of his subjects, establishing a kingdom of love and unity, in word and deed, in the home as well as the church. So, in his final greetings, Paul talks about faithful slaves and beloved siblings as sources of encouragement in the ever-expanding work of the kingdom of God (4:7–17), making his simple request, “Remember my chains” (4:18), sound more like an act of defiance than a pitiful plea.

Colossians is a letter sent by Paul to a church in Colossae when he was in prison. The letter was Paul’s first direct contact with the church, which may have been started by one of his missionary associates, Epaphras (Col. 1:7). Epaphras was from Colossae (4:12), a city of Asia Minor located in the Lycus Valley, known for its fertile soil and green pastures. Some commentators suggest that Epaphras also started churches in Hierapolis and Laodicea (4:13), neighboring cities in the valley that were situated around the Lycus River about ten miles apart. Colossae was a free city located on the main Roman road that ran from Ephesus and Sardis toward the east, and it was populated by native Phrygians, as well as Greeks, Romans, and Jews. More than likely, the church was founded during Paul’s extended ministry in Ephesus, where persons from the region heard Paul’s gospel and from where Paul sent missionary associates such as Epaphras into the surrounding cities (Acts 19). Tychicus, the letter carrier (Col. 4:7–8), was also one of Paul’s associates from the same region; he decided to accompany Paul to Macedonia after the team left Ephesus (Acts 20:4).

The close association of these churches in Asia Minor and the time frame when the letters were written may explain why Paul’s letter to the Colossians is so similar in content to his letter to the Ephesians. Paul was in prison (probably in Rome) when he sent both of these letters (Eph. 3:1; Col. 4:10, 18). The instructions regarding Tychicus, the carrier for both letters, are identical, nearly verbatim (Eph. 6:21–22; Col. 4:7–8). The letters share the same outline, following some of the same themes, especially toward the end, where Paul gives instructions regarding the household. An affinity also exists between Colossians and Philemon, a letter sent to the patron of one of the house churches in Colossae. Most of the names mentioned by Paul appear in both letters: Timothy, Onesimus, Archippus, Epaphras, Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, and Luke (Col. 1:1; 4:9–17; Philem. 1, 10, 23–24). Paul was also in prison, along with Epaphras, at the time he sent his letter to Philemon. All of this indicates that these letters were written about the same time, from the same place, to the same region. Why did Paul send three letters to the same region, especially since letter production was so expensive? Why not send one letter to the entire region (like Galatians), to be read by all the house churches? Obviously, the problems of each church were so different that they required a separate authoritative word from their apostle.

Questionable Practices in Colossae

The Colossians were doing several things that Paul found troublesome, as we learn from Col. 2. They were judging each other for not keeping certain dietary regulations and holy days (2:16). Some were claiming superiority through personal worship experiences that involved visions of angels (2:18). Some subscribed to strict discipline of the human body, punishing themselves through various acts of self-abasement in order to curb fleshly appetites (2:23) and enhance their worship experiences (2:18). It seems that many of them were trying to live by an expanded version of the divine command given in the story of Adam, Eve, and the forbidden fruit: “Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!” (2:21). Paul recognized that all these claims and rules had the “appearance of wisdom” but in reality were nothing more than traditions based on “self-imposed” religion, and that such ascetic practices were useless in denying fleshly appetites (2:22–23). Where did the Colossians get all these strange ideas that led to such bizarre behavior?

Paul described the false teaching as an imprisoning “through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces” in opposition to the teachings of Christ (2:8). Because the Colossian church was made up primarily of Gentile converts (1:27), many interpreters argue that the problems resulted from the meshing of the gospel with local, pagan ways. The Phrygians were known for their fascination with magical rituals, the ability to manipulate the powers (earth, wind, fire, spirits, angels, often referred to as “elementary principles of the world”) for human purposes. Paul’s description of the false teaching as a “hollow and deceptive philosophy” based on the “human tradition” may also reveal the influence of Greek ideas and Roman ways in the church. The Greeks operated with a dualistic worldview of spirit versus flesh, leading some philosophers to argue that punishing the body ensured purity of the soul. Furthermore, the Romans believed that the gods had given them power to rule the world, bringing fertility to the lands of conquered peoples. Worshiping Caesar brought economic rewards to devoted subjects of the empire. In other words, all this talk in the Colossian letter about power and sovereignty, philosophy and self-discipline was Paul’s way of dealing directly with the root of the problem: the syncretism of pagan ways and the gospel according to Paul.

Some interpreters believe that all these peculiar teachings derive not from pagan religions but rather from Judaism. After all, Paul’s references to observing the Sabbath, keeping commandments, and angelic worship point toward a Jewish context. Paul also affirmed that his Gentile converts were “circumcised with a circumcision not performed by human hands” (2:11), perhaps revealing his concern that Jewish ways were creeping into his Gentile church. He even put the church on notice, identifying those among “the circumcision” (Jews) who were trustworthy ministers of the gospel (he mentions only three, Barnabas, John Mark, and Jesus called Justus [4:10–11]). The implication, of course, was to ignore the rest of “the circumcision.” But if the troublemakers in Colossae were Jewish opponents of Paul, how does one explain all the mystical and ascetic elements of this false teaching? Some argue that the expression “worship of angels” was not an idolatrous practice of venerating angelic beings. Instead, the phrase should be translated “angelic worship,” implying that some Colossians claimed to have been transported to heaven and joined the angels in worship of God. This may have been similar to the experiences of an obscure form of Judaism: Jewish mystics who claimed to preserve esoteric revelations through out-of-body experiences of heavenly visions and auditions (see Paul’s description in 2 Cor. 12:1–7). Furthermore, the strict dietary code and sexual ethic of Jewish law were often interpreted by first-century pagans as promoting an ascetic lifestyle. In other words, Paul was countering a more cryptic branch of Judaism that flourished in a region known for its affinity for the mysterious.

Outline and Content

I. Introduction (1:1–14)

A. Greeting (1:1–2)

B. Thanksgiving (1:3–8)

C. Prayer (1:9–14)

II. The Person and Work of Christ (1:15–23)

III. Paul’s Role in Christ’s Mission to the Gentiles (1:24–2:5)

IV. False Teaching versus the Work of Christ (2:6–23)

V. Instructions on Life in Christ

A. In the church (3:1–17)

B. In the home (3:18–4:1)

VI. Generic Exhortations (4:2–6)

VII. Specific Instructions (4:7–9)

VIII. Final Greetings (4:10–17)

IX. Paul’s Signature (4:18)

Whatever the source of the false teaching referred to in Colossians, Paul attempts to correct the misbehavior of his Gentile converts by building an argument that the work of Christ is all-sufficient. Paul begins the letter by describing the person and work of Christ in cosmic terms (1:15–23). Next he recounts his role in the mission of Christ to bring the riches of the kingdom to Gentiles (1:24–2:5). After reminding the Colossians of their reception of the gospel, Paul juxtaposes the deceptive practices of the false teaching with the evidence of the work of Christ in them (2:6–23). Then he gives a number of instructions on what life in Christ is supposed to look like: in the church (3:1–17) and in the home (3:18–4:1). He concludes the letter with generic exhortations (4:2–6), specific instructions (4:7–9), and greetings (4:10–17). Finally, Paul signs the letter, obviously written by a secretary, with the simple request: “Remember my chains” (4:18)—a curious signature that makes the argument of his letter even more appealing.

The Power and Peace of Christ’s Kingdom

It is ironic that Paul chose to describe the work of Christ in such grandiose terms, picturing him as a mighty ruler over all creation, even while the apostle was in prison—an undeniable sign of Roman sovereignty. In Col. 1, in some of the loftiest language Paul ever used to describe Christ’s kingdom authority, the apostle reminds his converts that the Lord is “the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation” (v. 15), an obvious reference to Christ’s deity. Then Paul piles on the attributes, presenting Christ as the creator of all things, even angelic creatures (v. 16), the sustainer of all things (v. 17), the head of the church, the eternal one, the guarantor of the resurrection (v. 18), the fullness of God (v. 19), the reconciler of all things—the one who made peace with the enemies of God through his blood on the cross (vv. 20–22). Despite Paul’s circumstances and what Rome may claim, the apostle holds fast to the irrepressible sovereignty of Christ’s kingdom, displayed by Paul’s perseverance in the midst of suffering and the full assurance that every Colossian believer is “fully mature in Christ” (vv. 22–29). Indeed, all the treasures of Christ’s kingdom—love, knowledge, wisdom, discipline—are to be found in the life of his converts (2:1–5), unless someone “deludes” them into thinking otherwise.

Paul’s rhetorical strategy of extolling the power of Christ’s kingdom makes perfect sense in light of the false teaching that was plaguing the Colossian church. Apparently, the Colossians were persuaded to feel inadequate about their faith, vulnerable to the imposition of legalistic standards that ensured victory over fleshly indulgences. To counter his opponents, Paul unpacks the significance of the incarnation and the cross (2:9–15). Because Christ was God in flesh (in whom “all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form” [v. 9]), his death on the cross was a cosmic event that defeated all the powers that oppose God. Using military imagery, Paul argues that Christ canceled every debt against humanity when he nailed all “decrees” (even Caesar’s) to the cross. In that singular act of sacrifice, Christ disarmed the foes of God, humiliating them publicly by making a spectacle of them, triumphing over all powers (v. 15)—something that Caesar loved to do after successful military campaigns. Therefore, if Christ’s victory over all powers has been secured through his death, and since he rules as the firstborn of the dead (resurrection) over all creation, and since the Colossians are “fully mature in Christ” (1:28) because of their faith in him, then no pretense of self-abasement or angelic visions can diminish what Christ has done and will continue to do in the lives of Paul’s converts in Colossae. Christ is all they needed to overcome the powers.

In Col. 3, Paul tells how the Colossians draw upon the power of Christ when they “set [their] minds on things above, not on earthly things” (v. 2). The things on the earth are “sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed” (v. 5). Paul believes that his converts died with Christ (“hidden with Christ in God” [v. 3]) and therefore had set aside all these idolatrous practices when they put on the “new self,” being conformed to the image of Christ (vv. 8–10). This renewal will be found in all believers, regardless of ethnicity (v. 11), and will result in peace for all. Indeed, Paul sees the “peace of Christ” as the undeniable evidence of his reign exhibited in the hearts of those who believe (vv. 12–15). And what would that peace look like? Believers will be patient, forgiving one another with hearts full of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and love resulting in unity (vv. 12–14). Their worship of God will be characterized by songs of thankfulness and admonition, receiving the word with wisdom (v. 16). In their homes husbands, wives, and children will model deference and love, and masters and slaves will seek justice and fairness, as if they were serving Christ (3:18–4:1). The Colossians will be devoted to prayer, will treat outsiders fairly, and will be known for always speaking graceful words (4:2–6). In other words, where Caesar’s empire has promoted Roman peace by enforcing Roman law in provinces, cities, and households, Paul believes that the peace of Christ will rule the hearts of his subjects, establishing a kingdom of love and unity, in word and deed, in the home as well as the church. So, in his final greetings, Paul talks about faithful slaves and beloved siblings as sources of encouragement in the ever-expanding work of the kingdom of God (4:7–17), making his simple request, “Remember my chains” (4:18), sound more like an act of defiance than a pitiful plea.

Epaphras evangelized his hometown of Colossae and ministered in nearby Laodicea and Hierapolis (Col. 4:13). Paul highlighted Epaphras’s devotion to prayer, and he called him a “servant of Christ Jesus” (4:12), “fellow servant” and “faithful minister” (Col. 1:7), and “fellow prisoner” (Philem. 23). Epaphras shared information about the Colossian church with Paul prior to Paul’s letter to them. Although “Epaphras” is a shortened form of “Epaphroditus,” he is not the man of that name referenced in Phil. 2:24; 4:18.

Literally, fruit is the seed-bearing part of a plant. It constitutes an important part of the diet in the ancient Near East. Common fruits are olives, grapes, and figs, though many other varieties of fruit are also available, including apples, apricots, peaches, pomegranates, dates, and melons. Fruit trees play a prominent role as a food source in God’s creation and preparation of the garden of Eden (Gen. 1–3). The law prohibits the Israelites from cutting down their enemy’s fruit trees (Deut. 20:19). The abundance of fruit trees characterizes the land that God has prepared for Israel (Deut. 8:8; Neh. 9:25) as well as the final restoration (Ezek. 47:12; Joel 2:22; Rev. 22:2).

One aspect of fruit is that it grows from a plant. This use of the term is often extended to represent what emerges from something else. Thus, fruit may represent offspring, whether human or animal (Deut. 7:13; 28:4), one’s actions (Matt. 7:16–20), the result of one’s actions or choices (Prov. 1:31; 10:16; Jer. 17:10), or words coming from one’s mouth (Prov. 12:14; Heb. 13:15). In the NT especially, producing much fruit symbolizes performing deeds that are pleasing to God (Matt. 3:8; 13:23; Mark 4:20; John 15:16; Rom. 7:4; Col. 1:10). Those who live by the Spirit produce the fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22–23). The apostle Paul speaks of the first converts in a particular region as being firstfruits, probably referring to their conversion as the result of the gospel being preached in the area (Rom. 16:5; 2 Thess. 2:13).

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Synoptic Gospels

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Gospel of John

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

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

Pauline Literature

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hebrews and the General Epistles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Revelation

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

Conclusion

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

The state of remaining faithful to God in light of the revelation given to persons at their particular stage of redemptive history. Perseverance has always required a continued trust in God, obedience to his commands, and reliance upon his merciful provision.

Old Testament. In the OT, perseverance is related to the covenantal relationship that God had with his people. Abraham was the quintessential model of perseverance, as he was faithful in waiting for God to provide him with the heir that had been promised him. Israel had to persevere by remaining faithful to its covenant with God, which meant being obedient to his commandments and decrees. In the subsequent history of Israel, however, the nation lacked perseverance and fidelity and often turned away from God to worship the gods of other nations. Indeed, the sweep of Israel’s history, according to the prophets, was that Israel had failed miserably at persevering in the covenantal promises and thus had incurred God’s judgment (e.g., Neh. 9:6–37; Ezek. 20:1–39; Dan. 9:4–19).

New Testament. In the Gospels, Jesus is the ultimate example of the faithful Israelite and also provides many exhortations about perseverance in light of the dawning kingdom of God. Jesus perseveres when tested by Satan in the wilderness (Matt. 4:1–11; Mark 1:12–13; Luke 4:1–13). The parables of growth warn about those who do not persevere in their reception of the word (e.g., Luke 8:15). Endurance under the duress of eschatological trials is also the means by which one gains one’s life (Matt. 10:22; 24:13; Mark 13:13; Luke 21:19). In his farewell speech in the Gospel of John, Jesus exhorts his disciples to abide in him as branches stay rooted in a vine or else risk being cut off (John 15:1–11).

In the course of his letters, Paul has much to say about persevering in faith in Christ. Paul considers “endurance” (hypomonē) to be among the cardinal qualities of a believer (Rom. 5:3–4; 1 Thess. 1:3; 2 Thess. 1:4; 8:25; 1 Tim. 6:11; Titus 2:2). There is a sense in which God himself gives endurance to the believer (Rom. 15:5; Col. 1:11; 2 Thess. 3:5). Paul offers some stern warnings about apostasy and falling away (Rom. 11:21–22; 1 Cor. 10:1–12; Gal. 5:4), but he also adds that Christians experience a sense of assurance because God is “faithful” and will keep believers “blameless” on the day of Christ Jesus (1 Cor. 1:8–9; Phil. 1:10; 1 Thess. 3:13; 5:23). Paul also writes that nothing in creation can separate a believer from the love of God in Jesus Christ (Rom. 8:31–39).

The General Epistles provide further teaching about perseverance. James commends the virtue of perseverance that leads to maturity (1:3–4) and urges his audience to endure just as Job endured sufferings (5:11). Jude writes that believers should endeavor to “keep yourselves in God’s love” while also acknowledging that God himself will “keep you from falling” (vv. 21, 24). The book of Hebrews is built around the theme of perseverance and endurance, with key statements about not “drift[ing] away” (2:1) and the exhortation to “run with perseverance the race marked out for us” (12:1).

The book of Revelation focuses strongly on persevering in light of persecution and hardship. In the letters to the seven churches there is the repeated promise of the blessings that await those who “overcome,” which means enduring in the faith (2:7, 11, 17, 26; 3:5, 12, 21; cf. 21:7). The churches of Asia Minor corporately are admonished to remain faithful to the point of death (2:10) and in light of the coming judgment (14:12). Three times calls for patient endurance are made (1:9; 13:10; 14:12). In Revelation, perseverance means holding to the testimony of Jesus (12:17; 17:6; 19:10; 20:4).

Summary. The biblical teaching on perseverance attempts to balance divine sovereignty and human responsibility. The warnings of apostasy and the promises of assurance are interwoven in such a way so as not to compromise the grace and justice of God.

The state of remaining faithful to God in light of the revelation given to persons at their particular stage of redemptive history. Perseverance has always required a continued trust in God, obedience to his commands, and reliance upon his merciful provision.

Old Testament. In the OT, perseverance is related to the covenantal relationship that God had with his people. Abraham was the quintessential model of perseverance, as he was faithful in waiting for God to provide him with the heir that had been promised him. Israel had to persevere by remaining faithful to its covenant with God, which meant being obedient to his commandments and decrees. In the subsequent history of Israel, however, the nation lacked perseverance and fidelity and often turned away from God to worship the gods of other nations. Indeed, the sweep of Israel’s history, according to the prophets, was that Israel had failed miserably at persevering in the covenantal promises and thus had incurred God’s judgment (e.g., Neh. 9:6–37; Ezek. 20:1–39; Dan. 9:4–19).

New Testament. In the Gospels, Jesus is the ultimate example of the faithful Israelite and also provides many exhortations about perseverance in light of the dawning kingdom of God. Jesus perseveres when tested by Satan in the wilderness (Matt. 4:1–11; Mark 1:12–13; Luke 4:1–13). The parables of growth warn about those who do not persevere in their reception of the word (e.g., Luke 8:15). Endurance under the duress of eschatological trials is also the means by which one gains one’s life (Matt. 10:22; 24:13; Mark 13:13; Luke 21:19). In his farewell speech in the Gospel of John, Jesus exhorts his disciples to abide in him as branches stay rooted in a vine or else risk being cut off (John 15:1–11).

In the course of his letters, Paul has much to say about persevering in faith in Christ. Paul considers “endurance” (hypomonē) to be among the cardinal qualities of a believer (Rom. 5:3–4; 1 Thess. 1:3; 2 Thess. 1:4; 8:25; 1 Tim. 6:11; Titus 2:2). There is a sense in which God himself gives endurance to the believer (Rom. 15:5; Col. 1:11; 2 Thess. 3:5). Paul offers some stern warnings about apostasy and falling away (Rom. 11:21–22; 1 Cor. 10:1–12; Gal. 5:4), but he also adds that Christians experience a sense of assurance because God is “faithful” and will keep believers “blameless” on the day of Christ Jesus (1 Cor. 1:8–9; Phil. 1:10; 1 Thess. 3:13; 5:23). Paul also writes that nothing in creation can separate a believer from the love of God in Jesus Christ (Rom. 8:31–39).

The General Epistles provide further teaching about perseverance. James commends the virtue of perseverance that leads to maturity (1:3–4) and urges his audience to endure just as Job endured sufferings (5:11). Jude writes that believers should endeavor to “keep yourselves in God’s love” while also acknowledging that God himself will “keep you from falling” (vv. 21, 24). The book of Hebrews is built around the theme of perseverance and endurance, with key statements about not “drift[ing] away” (2:1) and the exhortation to “run with perseverance the race marked out for us” (12:1).

The book of Revelation focuses strongly on persevering in light of persecution and hardship. In the letters to the seven churches there is the repeated promise of the blessings that await those who “overcome,” which means enduring in the faith (2:7, 11, 17, 26; 3:5, 12, 21; cf. 21:7). The churches of Asia Minor corporately are admonished to remain faithful to the point of death (2:10) and in light of the coming judgment (14:12). Three times calls for patient endurance are made (1:9; 13:10; 14:12). In Revelation, perseverance means holding to the testimony of Jesus (12:17; 17:6; 19:10; 20:4).

Summary. The biblical teaching on perseverance attempts to balance divine sovereignty and human responsibility. The warnings of apostasy and the promises of assurance are interwoven in such a way so as not to compromise the grace and justice of God.

A distinction needs to be made between the various occurrences of the words “pray” and “prayer” in most translations of the Bible and the modern connotation of the same words. In the OT, the main Hebrew words translated as “to pray” and “prayer” (palal and tepillah) refer to the act of bringing a petition or request before God. They do not normally, if ever, refer to the other elements that we today think of as being included in the act of praying, such as praise or thanksgiving. The same is the case in the NT, where the main Greek words translated “to pray” and “prayer” (proseuchomai and proseuchē) also specifically denote making a petition or request to God. But other words and constructions in both Testaments are also translated “to pray” and “prayer,” and this article will deal with the larger concept, including praise, thanksgiving, petition, and confession, as opposed to the narrower meaning of the particular Hebrew and Greek terms (see also Praise; Thanksgiving; Worship).

Old Testament

In the OT there is no language or understanding comparable to modern ways of talking about prayer as conversational or dialogical. Prayer does not involve mutuality. Prayer is something that humans offer to God, and the situation is never reversed; God does not pray to humans. Understanding this preserves the proper distinction between the sovereign God and the praying subject. Therefore, prayers in the OT are reverential. Some OT prayers have extended introductions, such as that found in Neh. 1:5, that seem to pile up names for God. These should be seen as instances not of stiltedness or ostentation, but rather as setting up a kind of “buffer zone” in recognition of the distance between the Creator and the creature. In the NT, compare the same phenomenon in Eph. 1:17.

Many of the prayers in the OT are explicitly set in a covenantal context. God owes nothing to his creatures, but God has sworn to be faithful to those with whom he has entered into covenant. Thus, many OT prayers specifically appeal to the covenant as a motivation for both those praying and God’s answering (1 Kings 8:23–25; Neh. 1:5–11; 9:32; Pss. 25:10–11; 44:17–26; 74:20; 89:39–49). In postexilic books such as Ezra, Nehemiah, and Daniel, an important feature in the recorded prayers is the use of prior Scripture, praying God’s words (many times covenantal) back to him (in the NT, see Acts 4:24–30). Also, the closeness engendered by the covenant relationship between God and his people was unique in the ancient Near Eastern context. So Moses can marvel, “What other nation is so great as to have their gods near them the way the Lord our God is near us whenever we pray to him?” (Deut. 4:7).

Prayer must be made from a heart that is right toward God. There is no guarantee that God will hear every prayer (Ps. 66:18; Prov. 1:28; Isa. 1:15; 59:2). For the most part, the “rightness” that God requires in prayer is “a broken and contrite heart” (Ps. 51:17; cf. Isa. 66:2).

Although several passages talk about prayer in the context of sacrifice (e.g., Gen. 13:4), there is surprisingly little emphasis on prayer in the legal texts about sacrifice in the Pentateuch, no prescriptions for the kinds of prayer or the words that are to be said in connection with the sacrifices. Interestingly, however, in later, perhaps postexilic contexts, where there is no temple and therefore no sacrifice, we find texts such as Ps. 141:2, where the petitioner asks God to accept prayer as if it were an offering of incense and the evening sacrifice (cf. Prov. 15:8; in the NT, see Rev. 5:8).

A presupposition of prayer in the OT is that God hears prayer and may indeed answer and effect the change being requested. Prayer is not primarily about changing the psychological state or the heart of the one praying, but rather about God changing the circumstances of the one praying.

There is a striking honesty, some would even say brashness, evident in many OT prayers. Jeremiah laments that God has deceived both the people (Jer. 4:10) and Jeremiah himself (20:7) and complains about God’s justice (12:1–4). Job stands, as it were, in God’s face and demands that the Almighty answer his questions (Job 31:35–37). The psalmist accuses God of having broken his covenant promises (Ps. 89:39). While it is true that God does, to some extent, rebuke Jeremiah and Job (Jer. 12:5; Job 38–42), he does not ignore them or cast them aside. This would seem, ultimately, to encourage such honesty and boldness on the part of those who pray.

Literarily, accounts of prayers in narratives serve to provide characterizations of the ones praying. The recorded prayers of people such as Abraham, Moses, Hannah, Ezra, and Nehemiah demonstrate their true piety and humility before God. By contrast, the prayer of Jonah recorded in Jon. 2, in its narrative context, betrays a certain hypocrisy on the part of the reluctant prophet.

New Testament

The depiction of prayer in the NT is largely consistent with that of the OT, but there are important developments.

Jesus tells his disciples to address God as “Father” (Matt. 6:9; cf. Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6). Although recent scholarship has demonstrated that “Abba” is not the equivalent of our “daddy,” it expresses a certain intimacy that goes beyond what was prevalent at the time, but retains an element of reverence as well. God is not just “Father,” but “our Father in heaven” (Matt. 6:9). Even Jesus addresses God as “Holy Father” (John 17:11), “Righteous Father” (John 17:25), and “Father, Lord of heaven and earth” (Matt. 11:25). And Paul, as mentioned earlier, uses a buffer zone, rarely in his epistles using the word “Father” by itself, but instead referring to “God our Father” (e.g., Rom. 1:7) and frequently using the phrase “the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 15:6; 2 Cor. 1:3; 11:31; Eph. 1:3; cf. Eph. 1:17; Col. 1:3). God is our Father, but still he is a Father before whom one reverently kneels (Eph. 3:14).

Prayer to God is now to be made in the name of Jesus (Matt. 18:19–20; John 14:13; 15:16; 16:23–26). While there is some debate as to the exact nuance of this idea, it seems clear that, at the very least, prayers in Jesus’ name need to be ones that Jesus would affirm and are in accordance with his holy character and expressed will. It is, in essence, saying to God that the prayer being offered is one that Jesus would approve.

Prayer can also be made to Jesus (John 14:14), and such devotion to him in the early church is evidence of his being regarded as deity. The instances of this in the NT are rare, however, and generally either exclamatory or rhetorical (Acts 7:59; 1 Cor. 16:22; Rev. 22:20). The norm would still seem to be that prayer is to be made to the Father, through Jesus’ name.

Unlike anything prior in the OT, Jesus tells his followers to pray for their enemies (Matt. 5:44). Jesus and his followers serve as examples (Luke 23:34; Acts 7:60).

The Holy Spirit plays a vital role in prayers. It is by him that we are able to call out, “Abba, Father” (Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6). The Spirit himself intercedes for us (Rom. 8:26). Our praying is to be done in the Spirit (Eph. 6:18; Jude 20; possibly 1 Cor. 14:15).

Jesus encourages fervent and even continual or repeated prayer (Luke 18:1–8), but not showy or repetitive prayer (Matt. 6:5–8).

Jesus becomes the model of prayer. He prays before important decisions (Luke 6:12–13) and in connection with significant crisis points (Matt. 14:23; 26:36–44; Luke 3:21; 9:29; John 12:27). He offers prayers that are not answered (Luke 22:41–44) and prayers that are (Heb. 5:7). Even as he tells his disciples to always pray and not give up (Luke 18:1 [which is also the meaning of the sometimes overly literalized “pray without ceasing” in 1 Thess. 5:17 NRSV]), so he himself wrestles in prayer (Luke 22:41–44; Heb. 5:7). He has prayed for his disciples (John 17; Luke 22:32), and even now, in heaven, he still intercedes for us (Heb. 7:25). Indeed, our intercession before God’s throne is valid because his is (Heb. 4:14–16).

A distinction needs to be made between the various occurrences of the words “pray” and “prayer” in most translations of the Bible and the modern connotation of the same words. In the OT, the main Hebrew words translated as “to pray” and “prayer” (palal and tepillah) refer to the act of bringing a petition or request before God. They do not normally, if ever, refer to the other elements that we today think of as being included in the act of praying, such as praise or thanksgiving. The same is the case in the NT, where the main Greek words translated “to pray” and “prayer” (proseuchomai and proseuchē) also specifically denote making a petition or request to God. But other words and constructions in both Testaments are also translated “to pray” and “prayer,” and this article will deal with the larger concept, including praise, thanksgiving, petition, and confession, as opposed to the narrower meaning of the particular Hebrew and Greek terms (see also Praise; Thanksgiving; Worship).

Old Testament

In the OT there is no language or understanding comparable to modern ways of talking about prayer as conversational or dialogical. Prayer does not involve mutuality. Prayer is something that humans offer to God, and the situation is never reversed; God does not pray to humans. Understanding this preserves the proper distinction between the sovereign God and the praying subject. Therefore, prayers in the OT are reverential. Some OT prayers have extended introductions, such as that found in Neh. 1:5, that seem to pile up names for God. These should be seen as instances not of stiltedness or ostentation, but rather as setting up a kind of “buffer zone” in recognition of the distance between the Creator and the creature. In the NT, compare the same phenomenon in Eph. 1:17.

Many of the prayers in the OT are explicitly set in a covenantal context. God owes nothing to his creatures, but God has sworn to be faithful to those with whom he has entered into covenant. Thus, many OT prayers specifically appeal to the covenant as a motivation for both those praying and God’s answering (1 Kings 8:23–25; Neh. 1:5–11; 9:32; Pss. 25:10–11; 44:17–26; 74:20; 89:39–49). In postexilic books such as Ezra, Nehemiah, and Daniel, an important feature in the recorded prayers is the use of prior Scripture, praying God’s words (many times covenantal) back to him (in the NT, see Acts 4:24–30). Also, the closeness engendered by the covenant relationship between God and his people was unique in the ancient Near Eastern context. So Moses can marvel, “What other nation is so great as to have their gods near them the way the Lord our God is near us whenever we pray to him?” (Deut. 4:7).

Prayer must be made from a heart that is right toward God. There is no guarantee that God will hear every prayer (Ps. 66:18; Prov. 1:28; Isa. 1:15; 59:2). For the most part, the “rightness” that God requires in prayer is “a broken and contrite heart” (Ps. 51:17; cf. Isa. 66:2).

Although several passages talk about prayer in the context of sacrifice (e.g., Gen. 13:4), there is surprisingly little emphasis on prayer in the legal texts about sacrifice in the Pentateuch, no prescriptions for the kinds of prayer or the words that are to be said in connection with the sacrifices. Interestingly, however, in later, perhaps postexilic contexts, where there is no temple and therefore no sacrifice, we find texts such as Ps. 141:2, where the petitioner asks God to accept prayer as if it were an offering of incense and the evening sacrifice (cf. Prov. 15:8; in the NT, see Rev. 5:8).

A presupposition of prayer in the OT is that God hears prayer and may indeed answer and effect the change being requested. Prayer is not primarily about changing the psychological state or the heart of the one praying, but rather about God changing the circumstances of the one praying.

There is a striking honesty, some would even say brashness, evident in many OT prayers. Jeremiah laments that God has deceived both the people (Jer. 4:10) and Jeremiah himself (20:7) and complains about God’s justice (12:1–4). Job stands, as it were, in God’s face and demands that the Almighty answer his questions (Job 31:35–37). The psalmist accuses God of having broken his covenant promises (Ps. 89:39). While it is true that God does, to some extent, rebuke Jeremiah and Job (Jer. 12:5; Job 38–42), he does not ignore them or cast them aside. This would seem, ultimately, to encourage such honesty and boldness on the part of those who pray.

Literarily, accounts of prayers in narratives serve to provide characterizations of the ones praying. The recorded prayers of people such as Abraham, Moses, Hannah, Ezra, and Nehemiah demonstrate their true piety and humility before God. By contrast, the prayer of Jonah recorded in Jon. 2, in its narrative context, betrays a certain hypocrisy on the part of the reluctant prophet.

New Testament

The depiction of prayer in the NT is largely consistent with that of the OT, but there are important developments.

Jesus tells his disciples to address God as “Father” (Matt. 6:9; cf. Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6). Although recent scholarship has demonstrated that “Abba” is not the equivalent of our “daddy,” it expresses a certain intimacy that goes beyond what was prevalent at the time, but retains an element of reverence as well. God is not just “Father,” but “our Father in heaven” (Matt. 6:9). Even Jesus addresses God as “Holy Father” (John 17:11), “Righteous Father” (John 17:25), and “Father, Lord of heaven and earth” (Matt. 11:25). And Paul, as mentioned earlier, uses a buffer zone, rarely in his epistles using the word “Father” by itself, but instead referring to “God our Father” (e.g., Rom. 1:7) and frequently using the phrase “the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 15:6; 2 Cor. 1:3; 11:31; Eph. 1:3; cf. Eph. 1:17; Col. 1:3). God is our Father, but still he is a Father before whom one reverently kneels (Eph. 3:14).

Prayer to God is now to be made in the name of Jesus (Matt. 18:19–20; John 14:13; 15:16; 16:23–26). While there is some debate as to the exact nuance of this idea, it seems clear that, at the very least, prayers in Jesus’ name need to be ones that Jesus would affirm and are in accordance with his holy character and expressed will. It is, in essence, saying to God that the prayer being offered is one that Jesus would approve.

Prayer can also be made to Jesus (John 14:14), and such devotion to him in the early church is evidence of his being regarded as deity. The instances of this in the NT are rare, however, and generally either exclamatory or rhetorical (Acts 7:59; 1 Cor. 16:22; Rev. 22:20). The norm would still seem to be that prayer is to be made to the Father, through Jesus’ name.

Unlike anything prior in the OT, Jesus tells his followers to pray for their enemies (Matt. 5:44). Jesus and his followers serve as examples (Luke 23:34; Acts 7:60).

The Holy Spirit plays a vital role in prayers. It is by him that we are able to call out, “Abba, Father” (Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6). The Spirit himself intercedes for us (Rom. 8:26). Our praying is to be done in the Spirit (Eph. 6:18; Jude 20; possibly 1 Cor. 14:15).

Jesus encourages fervent and even continual or repeated prayer (Luke 18:1–8), but not showy or repetitive prayer (Matt. 6:5–8).

Jesus becomes the model of prayer. He prays before important decisions (Luke 6:12–13) and in connection with significant crisis points (Matt. 14:23; 26:36–44; Luke 3:21; 9:29; John 12:27). He offers prayers that are not answered (Luke 22:41–44) and prayers that are (Heb. 5:7). Even as he tells his disciples to always pray and not give up (Luke 18:1 [which is also the meaning of the sometimes overly literalized “pray without ceasing” in 1 Thess. 5:17 NRSV]), so he himself wrestles in prayer (Luke 22:41–44; Heb. 5:7). He has prayed for his disciples (John 17; Luke 22:32), and even now, in heaven, he still intercedes for us (Heb. 7:25). Indeed, our intercession before God’s throne is valid because his is (Heb. 4:14–16).

The idea of redemption was well known in antiquity. More than a simple notion of deliverance, redemption spoke as much of the grace of the redeemer as of the deliverance of the redeemed. Classical texts use the Greek word apolytrōsis (“redemption”) to articulate the ransom payment given to release a slave, a captive of war, or someone sentenced to death. The group of words based on the Greek term lytron (“ransom”) conveys the idea of payment for release. The corresponding Hebrew word padah is a commercial term rooted in the idea of the transfer of ownership.

Old Testament

The experience of the exodus gave the idea of redemption religious significance. The commemoration of this redemptive event included the dedication of the firstborn to Yahweh (Exod. 13:12–13). Moreover, Israel itself, God’s own firstborn (Exod. 4:22), was redeemed by Yahweh—language that Isaiah later picked up to describe Abraham (Isa. 29:22). As the theme of redemption continued to broaden, God’s redemption came to include deliverance from all Israel’s troubles (Ps. 25:22). Redemption included the whole of the human situation, not just the eternal destiny (or the new age to come).

Another Hebrew term, ga’al, generally relates to the kinsman-redeemer. In the case of a person who had sold property due to poverty or even gone into slavery to pay a debt, a kinsman could become a redeemer by buying back the property (Lev. 25:25–28) and/or purchasing freedom from slavery (25:47–49). The book of Ruth describes this, detailing the relationship between the impoverished Ruth and Boaz, the kinsman-redeemer. The prophets and the psalms apply this understanding to how God redeems Israel (Isa. 43:1–3; Ps. 19:14; cf. Job 19:25). God, however, does not pay ransom to anyone (Isa. 52:3–4); rather, he causes redemption by his power (45:13).

The awaited Messiah, promised through the prophets, would become God’s ultimate expression of his redemptive love. When the people’s continued rebellion against God finally broke the Mosaic covenant, God’s judgment sent them into captivity and exile in Babylon. Now, without place and identity, their only hope for a future was if God would ransom his people and restore his covenant with them. This longing for God’s redemption grew during the exile. As the persecutions increased further during the so-called intertestamental period (an approximately four-hundred-year period between the OT and the NT), the earlier prophetic promises became a full-blown messianic hope. God will send the Messiah as redeemer to ransom his people from Greek and Roman oppression.

New Testament

The NT champions the theme of redemption (see Luke 4:18–19). When Jesus came, teaching that he would redeem his people from the slavery of sin (John 8:34–36), he spoke of himself as a ransom for many (Matt. 20:28 // Mark 10:45). Paul’s theology of the cross accentuated the same connection between sin, slavery, and Jesus’ ransom. He saw people as sold into slavery under sin (Rom. 6:17; 7:14) and redeemed by Jesus’ sacrifice (3:24). The Christian idea of ransom followed the accepted contemporary idea that people who are sentenced to death (Rom. 6:23) can gain their life back if a redeemer buys it with a ransom (Col. 1:13–14). The predominance of apolytrōsis in the NT, compared to common Greek literature of that period, underscores its significance for early Christian conceptualization.

Without reflecting on to whom the ransom should be paid, which was made an issue by later theologians and philosophers, the NT authors highlight Jesus’ blood as the ransom payment (e.g., Eph. 1:7; Heb. 9:12; cf. Rev. 5:9). The emphases of the NT remain on the need of the redeemed, the grace of the redeemer, and the effects of the redemption. Christ’s ransom transfers the redeemed from one sphere of influence to another, or rather, from one owner to another. Incomparable to commonly known worldly ransoms, which consisted of monetary means and remained external to the redeemer himself (1 Pet. 3:18–19), Jesus substituted his own life for the life of those he redeemed (antilytron hyper [1 Tim. 2:6]). God still did not pay ransom to anyone, but rather caused it by his own power.

The OT notion that redemption points to God’s involvement in the present, allowing for a historical experience of salvation, fills the NT conception as well. This is seen most clearly in Paul’s theological ethics. The new ownership accomplished by Jesus’ redemption enables a new kind of life to be lived in freedom from the slavery of sin (1 Cor. 6:20; Gal. 5:1). More than just a matter of ethics, it follows Jesus’ emphasis of an “already but not yet” experience of God’s presence. Redemption is evidenced by the Spirit’s presence (Rom. 8:1–17).

Although redemption is present, the fullness of it still awaits the future (Rom. 8:18–23), when the redeemer will fill all in all (1 Cor. 15:28; Col. 1:19–20). Contrary to Hellenistic conceptions of redemption, which expect redemption from the body, Paul expects redemption of the body. God’s eschatological redemption is universal; it restores the relationship between creation and the Creator (Col. 1:21–23; Eph. 1:7–10).

One of Paul’s faithful companions who proved himself as a valuable coworker (e.g., 1 Cor. 4:17; 16:10; Phil. 2:19–24). Many think that Timothy responded to Paul’s preaching during the first missionary journey, explaining the frequent references to Timothy as Paul’s “son” (1 Cor. 4:17; Phil. 2:22; 1 Tim. 1:2; 2 Tim. 1:2). Paul circumcised Timothy because he had a Greek father and Jewish mother. He ministered with Paul from the second missionary journey (Acts 16) to late in Paul’s life (2 Timothy), probably about twenty years. Timothy is not mentioned in much of Acts 16, an expression of Luke’s deference to the most prominent members of the missionary team, Paul and Silas. In Acts 19:22 Luke refers to Timothy as Paul’s “helper,” one who serves. This designation and Luke’s silence in Acts 16, however, should not be taken to mean that Timothy, who clearly has a subordinate role to Paul, had menial roles and functions.

Titles and ministry assignments demonstrate Timothy’s important role in Pauline mission. Paul calls Timothy a “brother” (2 Cor. 1:1; Col. 1:1; 1 Thess. 3:2; Philem. 1), “my co-worker” (Rom. 16:21), a “co-worker in God’s service” (1 Thess. 3:2 [textual variant: “servant of God”]), and “servant of Christ Jesus” with Paul (Phil. 1:1) and refers to him metaphorically as a “soldier” and “hardworking farmer” (2 Tim. 2:3, 6). Paul probably includes Timothy among the “apostles of Christ” in 1 Thess. 2:6, a reference to his role as a qualified ambassador of the gospel, not as an apostle in the technical sense. Paul sent Timothy out on ministry assignments to difficult places (e.g., Thessalonica and Corinth [see 1–2 Timothy]).

Apparently, Timothy worked alongside Paul a great deal of the time and was well respected in many locations, because Paul identifies Timothy as cosender of six letters: 2 Corinthians, Philippians, Colossians, 1 Thessalonians, 2 Thessalonians, and Philemon. He was also with Paul during the writing of Romans and 1 Corinthians. Mentioned as released from prison in Heb. 13:23, he was an acquaintance of the author of Hebrews.

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.

Authorized by the divine image and example (Gen. 1:26–28), “benediction” is literally the “good word” that activates for its recipients such divine benefits as keeping, favor, grace, and peace (Num. 6:24–27). Whether invoked by fathers (Gen. 27; 2 Sam. 6:20), priests (Gen. 14:18–19; Lev. 9:22), or the community (Ruth 2:4), benedictions signal God’s rule over all of life, as does Jesus’ command to bless our enemies. In the NT, benedictions may be condensed (“Grace be with you”) or expanded with divine references and joined to doxologies or prayers (Col. 1:2–14; 4:13).

Reading, understanding, interpreting, and properly applying the word of God to life and ministry is the work of Bible study. The essence of this work is the systematic and methodical analysis of the biblical text. The methods that one uses to understand the text of Scripture will vary in keeping with one’s presuppositions concerning the nature of the Bible and the preunderstandings of the interpreter. A methodical study of the Bible considers the nature and state of the biblical text, the issues related to the interpreter, and a procedure for discovering authorial intent.

The Nature of the Bible

Revelation. We begin with the assumption (or presupposition) that the Bible is the revealed word of God, the contents of which were progressively made known to authors guided by the Holy Spirit. God guided the authors of Scripture, using their personalities and writing styles, so that the canonical books of the Bible were composed exactly as God intended. These books in their original form are inspired and inerrant. The word of God is true and trustworthy and thus a reliable rule for faith and practice.

The ability of God to communicate with his creation, along with his desire to make himself known to his human creatures, is the essence of revelation. The preservation of God’s communication, the revelation of his will to people in the word of God, is what makes the Bible a unique literary document, distinguished from all other literary productions. God manifests himself in a general way to all people through creation and conscience (general revelation) and in a special way to select individuals at particular times (special revelation). These communications and manifestations are available now only by consulting certain sacred writings. The revelation given by God and recorded by people in the canon of Scripture is what God spoke in the past. However, the living and abiding nature of the word (Heb. 4:12) spoken in a past, historical context continues to be relevant. The voice of God can still be heard today. Just as revelation determines how theology is formulated, so revelation determines how a biblical text is to be read in the process of literary analysis.

Given the nature of the Bible’s origin, it is historically accurate in what it teaches. This accuracy is not limited to spiritual and doctrinal issues; it is inseparably connected with the historical and factual. Thus, when the Bible makes reference to political and historical figures, it speaks with authority and accuracy.

Accessibility and clarity. The word of God is a written text revealed and inspired by God (2 Tim. 3:16–17), who engaged about fifty authors over a period of approximately eleven hundred years. The OT text was originally recorded in Hebrew and Aramaic (Gen. 31:47; Ezra 4:8–6:18; 7:12–26; Jer. 10:11). The NT text was originally recorded in Koine Greek. Since the text was composed using the languages and literary conventions of the day, it was written to be intelligible and understandable. The biblical text has been distributed throughout the world and translated into just about every major language, so that the text continues to be accessible to many people today.

As Martin Luther observes in The Bondage of the Will, the clarity of the Bible is twofold. There is external clarity that can be discerned through the laws of grammar, and there is internal clarity attained through the work of the Holy Spirit illuminating the reader of Scripture. Related to these points is the perspicuity of Scripture, which refers to the clarity of Scripture in its main points. Unnuanced, these principles can create unfortunate misunderstandings. The clarity and perspicuity of Scripture relate to the result or the outcome of Bible study and only to major teachings. The intended message of Scripture is clear, understandable, and accessible.

Historical, literary, and theological aspects. While the Bible is written to be clear and accessible, the process of discerning the clarity is complex and involves a thorough examination of the historical, literary/linguistic, and theological aspects of each biblical text. Since the Bible is a document characterized by literary, historical, and theological impulses, it must be interpreted with these impulses in mind.

The historical character of the text affirms that the historical details (culture, setting, time, people or characters in the story, and readers of the composition) of a narrative are absolutely essential to the meaning and the message of the text. Historical details create the stage for what God is doing with his people in time and space. Historical details remind the reader that the written word has a context. The text is anchored to time and place.

The literary character of the text involves both the rhetorical strategies and the linguistic factors of a written text that are critical to the communication process. The act of literary communication involves the author/sender sending a message or text to the reader/recipient. The Bible must be interpreted in keeping with the act of literary communication: author, reader, and text. Literary types, structural development, and discourse function are formal features of the text that contribute to the communicating author’s intended meaning. The OT uses at least five basic literary types or genres: law, historical narrative, poetry, wisdom, and apocalyptic. The NT uses some of the same literary types, as well as parables and the epistolary, or letter, form. Gospel can also be considered a distinct literary form.

Finally, the text has a theological aspect, an ideology, a message, and an intention that God reveals on the historical stage by means of appropriate literary devices.

Unity and diversity. There is a definite unity to the diversity of the Bible that must be grasped in the interpretive process. Opinions vary depending on one’s understanding of the origin and nature of Scripture. Some readers stress the diversity of the biblical text, choosing to highlight apparent contradictions and irresolvable situations. Others go to the other extreme and may be in danger of oversimplifying, collapsing contexts, and ignoring the message of the text. Consider, for example, the importance of not reading too much into the discussion of faith and works as developed by Paul and James. The diversity of emphasis in these two authors is not contradictory in the overall message of the Bible.

Diversity obviously exists in the languages, writers, cultures, and message of various books of the Bible. However, given the reality of divine authorship, these diverse pieces are woven together coherently. There are longitudinal themes such as kingdom, covenant, and messiah that run from the OT into the NT. In addition, there is the developed use of terminology across both Testaments with terms such as “redemption” and “the word.”

The unity/diversity aspect of the biblical text ultimately contributes to an enriched understanding of both biblical and systematic theology. Biblical theology tends to consider the diversity of the writers and the different time periods and is willing to let diverse themes stand together. Systematic theology, which builds upon the findings of biblical theology, is more attentive to the unity of Scripture. These approaches complement each other and encourage what is called an “analogy of faith.” Once again, Luther gave shape to this phrase by opposing the ecclesiastical tradition of the church in favor of Scripture as the basis of dogma. The “analogy of faith” principle advocates that doctrine must cohere and not contradict the holistic teaching of Scripture. Doctrine cannot be a formulation of a few proof texts.

Summary. These summations concerning the nature of Scripture are by no means exhaustive, but they do provide a foundation for determining the nature and use of various interpretive methods. The process of interpretation will be given more attention below, but at this point it is worth emphasizing that methods of Bible study must contribute to the discovery of the author’s intended meaning. Since God is the ultimate author, our concern is to know his intended meaning. This goal is not without challenge. Many conclude that original authorial intent is unattainable because of the distance between our present cultural and historical situation and that of the biblical writers. An additional obstacle is the variety of interpretations that arise from community use of the biblical text. The challenges of time, culture, geography, and language can be faced successfully to arrive at the clear meaning of Scripture by means of a methodical analysis of all aspects of the biblical text.

The Role of the Interpreter

Before considering the relation of the interpreter to the process of Bible study methods, it is helpful to sort out who is the audience of a text. Written texts are composed with someone in mind, an original audience or recipients, who may or may not read the finished product. Beyond the original readers there is an extended audience of readers throughout time, including us, who read and interpret the word of God and seek to apply it to their lives.

Preunderstandings and presuppositions. The readers of the biblical text apply the methods of Bible study in order to understand the intended meaning of Scripture. In addition to the science of methodology there is an art to interpretation that involves recognizing personal preunderstandings brought to the text and presuppositions influencing an interpretation of the textual data.

So how do we differentiate a preunderstanding from a presupposition? “Preunderstanding” refers to the preconceived notions and understandings that one brings to the text, which have been formulated, both consciously and subconsciously, before one actually studies the text in detail. This includes specific experiences and encounters with the text that tend to make us assume that we already understand it. Sensitivity to preunderstanding reminds us that we are never approaching the text for the first time, completely neutral or totally objective. Our personal experiences, cultural influences (music, movies, literature), family background, church, race, and nationality are factors influencing our preunderstanding. These preunderstandings are ultimately corrected or nurtured by the constant influence of the biblical text.

Presuppositions, on the other hand, are the faith commitments held by Christians that do not change each time they study the Bible (in contrast to preunderstanding). This article, for example, began with a statement of presuppositions regarding God and the Bible. The analogy of faith deems such presuppositions to be unchangeable constants.

Approach to the text. How, then, should the interpreter approach the text? Although total objectivity is not a realistic goal, Christian readers do want to understand what God has revealed for them. So, the text is approached through faith and by means of the Holy Spirit, who gives understanding of the word that God authored. In order for this to happen, the reader must stand before the biblical text and allow it to speak rather than standing behind it to push it in a predetermined direction. The goal of Bible study is discovery of meaning, not creation of meaning.

A critical factor in Bible study is the realization that the process is an exercise with sacred dimensions. The primary object in this task is to know God, to understand his will, and to love and trust him, which is Paul’s desire for all Christians (Col. 1:9–14; Eph. 1:15–23; 3:14; Phil. 3:8–13). God is glorified when we find our joy and delight in him through an enriched understanding of his word. This can happen when one depends upon the Holy Spirit for understanding (1 Cor. 2:9–16). The study of the sacred text is a delicate balance of thinking, working, and analyzing while reverently and humbly depending upon the Spirit.

The Methods of Bible Study

Terminology. The activity of interpretation is best described as a spiral, a twist of assorted factors that take the reader from the intention of the original context to the present context of life within the community of the church. The process involves terms and procedures that can be confusing. The word “hermeneutics” is most commonly understood to describe the science and art of biblical interpretation. The goal of hermeneutics is to discern the original intent of the text (“what it meant”) and the contemporary significance of the text (“what it means”). Scholars regularly discuss which of these two is primary in hermeneutical process. The term, however, is broad enough to cover both aspects.

The English word “exegesis” is derived from a Greek term meaning “to lead out.” When applied to Bible study, it defines the nature of the work as taking meaning out of the text and not reading meaning into it. The exegetical process involves the study of words, syntax, grammar, and theology. Another critical term, “contextualization,” refers to an aspect of the interpretive process involving cross-cultural communication of the text’s significance for today.

Defining these key terms in hermeneutics brings to the surface an ongoing discussion associated with Bible study, the question of meaning, which is defined in several ways. Meaning is understood by some as the author’s intention. Some scholars explain meaning as referent (what the author is talking about), others describe it as sense (what is being said about the referent), and finally it can be understood as significance (a contemporary, cross-cultural significance).

Inductive Bible study. How one gets to meaning involves a process of study, the crux of which is the practice of inductive Bible study. Although this objective process can be defined in several ways, it is distinguished by four key elements.

(1) The first element is observation. This involves a careful, close reading of the text to determine exactly what it says. This step makes repeated use of the who, what, when, where, and why questions that enable the reader to become fully saturated with the particulars of the passage. Attention to textual detail will result in accurate interpretation. Observation requires a will to observe, exactness in making observations, and persistence and endurance in the process. Observation is focused on the words of the passage, the structure (the relations and interrelations between terms), the literary form, and the atmosphere or tone. (2) Interpretation follows. The goal of this element is to define meaning and to answer the question, What does this text mean? (3) Correlation, the third element, asks, How does this text relate to the rest of the Bible (cf. analogy of faith)? (4) The fourth element, application, asks, What does this text mean to me?

Each step in the inductive process is elaborate and includes its own particular interests and issues that are critical for determining meaning. Take, for example, the issues of meaning associated with the second step, interpretation. This process must be fully engaged for accuracy in interpretation. The business of interpretation involves a constant interaction of parts. Microaspects are observed in light of macrofeatures, and vice versa.

The interpretive process of the text is fairly standard. Given the nature of inductive analysis, the inductive process begins at the microlevel of examining and interpreting terms, words, and sentences. It then highlights the next structural levels of paragraphs, units of paragraphs, chapters, and then the book itself.

Context and literary type. Since context and literary type are critical elements in the exercise of analysis, attention will be given to each. It is often said that context determines meaning. This statement is a reminder that a term, a theme, or a structural element is ultimately governed by a larger set of factors. The term “trunk,” for example, in the context of a family vacation could refer to what is packed, whereas in the conversation of lumberjacks it could be a reference to a tree. Context takes into consideration all historical referents. In addition, context includes all the individual parts of a composition (phrases, sentences, paragraphs, chapters). Examination of a book’s particular historical context involves also looking at the geography, politics, economics, and cultural practices of a given audience featured. The danger of ignoring context in biblical study is that original authorial intent is replaced with all kinds of self-centered textual understandings.

Literary type is also a critical factor in the inductive process. Another word for literary form is genre, derived from a French term that can be translated “kind, sort, style.” It denotes a type or species of literature or literary form. Genre analysis profitably yields an understanding of the author’s intention in a given literary composition. For example, genre triggers the reader’s expectations and reading strategy. Genre guides the reader in understanding how to read and interpret a given text. For example, we read and interpret a story differently from the way we read and interpret a poem. Each of these genres has its own rules and strategies for communicating meaning. Genre analysis involves observing the form along with the mood, setting, function, and content of the text.

Each literary type has a set of distinctive characteristics that must be examined. To understand what the biblical authors are saying (and what God is saying through them), we must play by the rules of the literary genre that they selected. Genre is a generalization or an abstraction within which variation occurs. Thus, a genre may be defined broadly and include many texts that share fewer traits, while on the other hand it may be defined in a more narrow way and include fewer texts sharing many more traits.

The process of genre analysis is undertaken inductively. The analysis begins with the literary class, continues with the individual texts, and then interacts with both. Genre can be understood only by analyzing the parts of a given text. Although there are plenty of helpful textbooks devoted to virtually every literary type, one must keep in mind that genre descriptions arise out of the details of the text. Genre is not a predescribed form that is imposed on the text for the discovery of authorial intent.

Once the historical, literary, and theological aspects of the particular book are settled, the book is then analyzed in its specific canonical context (NT or OT) and then considered in the overall canon (the Bible). The results of this process are then pursued in relation to the interests of biblical and systematic theology.

Summary. The method of inductive Bible study is not only a specific procedure of analysis, but also a guide for a variety of methodical practices. The process of inductive Bible study encourages a spirit of attention to detail and reminds the reader of the overall goal in interpretation: to know what the text meant and means. In addition, the very nature of the inductive method promotes a curiosity and yields a definite joy of discovery. The inductive process is a guide to the interpreter in an analysis of either the Hebrew or the Greek text.

Other methods of Bible study. There are other methods of Bible study associated with distinct views of the Bible’s nature and origin. These critical methods of interpretation arise out of a discussion regarding how the Bible should be interpreted. The history of this discussion goes all the way back to the third century AD with the debates between the Alexandrians and Antiochians. The sixteenth-century Reformation, the eighteenth-century Enlightenment, and the twentieth century were significant turning points that yielded new ways of conceiving the world and the biblical text. Thus, it is important to understand that there are no neutral methods of biblical interpretation.

Historical-critical approaches. The more-popular critical methods of Bible study came to the forefront in the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth centuries with the rise of deism and rationalism. The prevailing opinion of this time was the fundamental similarity of all historical texts and all historical events. The historical-critical method was founded on the principles of criticism, analogy, and correlation. The supernatural origin of the Bible is denied, and it is considered to be a book like all other historical documents. The biblical text is viewed as a tradition created. It is an artifact of the evolutionary process preserved and passed along to a subsequent generation and must be approached with an attitude of doubt.

In contrast to the approach taken in this article, the historical-critical understanding of the locus of revelation is not the biblical text revealed by God. The locus of revelation shifts outside the text. The reader no longer looks to the text to hear the word of God. The reader now looks behind or beyond the biblical text to another story, one that is independent of the biblical text. Instead of studying a process of progressive revelation, the historical-critical methodologies are committed to sorting out complex historical traditions. Sources are identified, sorted chronologically, and studied for their distinctive themes. The methods are sometimes organized according to the particular interests of schools of thought: history of religions, history of traditions, history of forms, history of redactions.

Literary approaches. Finally, there are methods of Bible study associated with the set of literary presuppositions. First, this approach to the biblical text takes an ahistorical view of the text. In other words, there is no concern for its historical cause and effect. It is concerned only with a synchronic analysis of the finished product. Second, the text is viewed as an autonomous entity. Once a text is completed, it has a life of its own. The interpretive process is then devoted to the text’s final form, looking at the whole instead of the parts. Meaning comes from the language and style of the text. Finally, meaning is understood as aesthetics; it is not related to authorial intention or a historical occasion. Theoretically, the literary approach views the text as if it is cut off from an author and from a historical context. In this construct, meaning shifts from the past to the present. Interpretation then is an interaction of text and reader. The methods of interpretation associated with these literary presuppositions include literary criticism, rhetorical criticism, structuralism, narrative criticism, and reader response criticism.

Terminology

“Deacon” is an English translation of the Greek word diakonos. Generically, this term refers to one who serves, and the word is used with this sense repeatedly throughout the NT (e.g., Matt. 20:26; 23:11; Mark 9:35; 10:43). Matthew 22:13 speaks specifically of those who serve by doing the bidding of a king. John 2:9 refers to the servants who draw the water at the wedding in Cana. Various other passages use diakonos in a religious context with reference to ministers or those who serve God or Christ in some way (Rom. 13:4; 2 Cor. 6:4; Eph. 6:21; Col. 1:7; 1 Tim. 4:6). This broad usage of the term to indicate general service, including table service, is also quite common in the secular Greek literature of the first century.

As the early church grew and developed, the word diakonos came to designate the specific church office of deacon. Although often cited, Acts 6 is inconclusive regarding the office of deacon. The noun diakonos does not appear in this text, but the related verb form diakoneō (“to wait on” [Acts 6:2]) is used in reference to the ministry of distributing food. Some interpreters find in this the precursor or establishment of the diaconate, but others argue that the use of diakoneō to speak of table service need not imply that the role of deacon had developed at this early stage of the church. Only two passages in the NT, Phil. 1:1 and 1 Tim. 3:8–12, clearly use diakonos in the sense of an established church office, and here the NIV rightly translates it as “deacon.”

The Office of Deacon

Paul’s address to the believers in Philippi is unique within the Pauline corpus in its singling out of two church offices. While directing his words to the saints at Philippi, Paul specifically makes mention of the “overseers” (Gk. episkopos) and deacons in their midst (Phil. 1:1). This greeting provides evidence of the existence of such ecclesiastical structure from the early AD 60s at the latest.

The most detailed information in the NT related to the office of deacon occurs in 1 Tim. 3:8–12. Immediately following a discussion of “overseers” (Gk. episkopos) in 1 Tim. 3:1–7, this text shifts its focus to the office of deacon and provides a description of the requirements for the one occupying the role. The one fit to serve as a deacon should have a character worthy of respect, and the passage calls for the demonstration of this character in the areas of drink, money (v. 8), and family (v. 12). A deacon should display a commitment to Christian truth (v. 9), and a candidate should be tested before officially being allowed to serve in this office (v. 10).

Deaconesses in the Early Church

Significant discussion surrounds the issue of whether the NT limits the role of deacon to men or whether it provides evidence of women serving as deacons, frequently designated with the feminized term “deaconess.” At issue is the translation of gynaikes in 1 Tim. 3:11. The NIV renders it as “women”; also within its range of meaning are the translations “wives” (ESV) and “women deacons.” The context of the passage must dictate whether the qualifications listed in 1 Tim. 3:11 apply to the wives of those men who wish to be deacons or whether they are the standard for those women who themselves desire to serve in the office of deacon. On the one hand, the subsequent clear address of a male deacon as needing to be “faithful to his wife” (1 Tim. 3:12) makes a reference to female deacons in 1 Tim. 3:11 an illogical interruption. However, those who see in 1 Tim. 3:11 a reference to female deacons cite the use of diakonos to describe Phoebe in Rom. 16:1 as evidence that she served as a deaconess of the church in Cenchrea. Alternatively, Rom. 16:1 may be speaking only of Phoebe’s great service to the church in that locale without implying that she occupied an official church office.

Whether or not 1 Tim. 3:11 and Rom. 16:1 have in mind the role of deaconess, it is clear that an order of deaconesses existed in the church after the first century. The most significant early evidence includes the Didaskalia Apostolorum (Syria, early third century AD), which describes the female deacon in the Eastern church as one who ministered by assisting women with their baptism, provided instruction to the recently baptized women, visited women who were ill, and provided service for women in need. The fourth-century Syrian Apostolic Constitutions affirms their function in similar activities and identifies additional duties, including maintaining the separation of the sexes during worship. It also describes their ordination by means of the laying on of hands and prayer.

/a> Deliverance provides relief or escape from a detrimental situation or the prospect of adverse circumstances. There are many terms in the Bible that express this thought, such as “save,” “rescue,” “redeem,” “set free,” “bring out,” “escape,” “avenge,” “vindicate,” “preserve,” “give legal protection,” as well as “deliver.” Deliverance may come from God or humans and may be from physical temporal distress or spiritual in nature.

The principal example of deliverance in the OT is the exodus, God’s deliverance of Israel from Egypt. The greatness of this deliverance comes from several factors: (1) the extremity of Israel’s circumstance, which was long-term slavery to one of the world’s superpowers; (2) the extent of God’s power displayed in the ten plagues upon Egypt and in Israel’s safe passage through the Red Sea; (3) its fulfillment of a promise to Abraham, beginning the process of giving his descendants the land; (4) its foundational place in Israel’s tradition and holy days (Passover). This event becomes the main component of the historical background clause of the covenant and a reminder to covenant faithfulness (e.g., Exod. 20:2; Lev. 22:33; 23:43; Num. 15:41; Deut. 4:20; 6:12; 20:1; Josh. 24:5–7, 17; Judg. 6:8; 1 Kings 9:9; Jer. 34:13; Ezek. 20:10; Dan. 9:15). When Jeremiah prophesies of the Babylonian exile and the later return from exile, he portrays it in the manner of or as surpassing the exodus (Jer. 16:14–15).

The NT continues the exodus theme in that Jesus’ death and resurrection, the foundation for salvation, coincide with the celebration of Passover. This constitutes deliverance in that all humanity is in slavery to the power of sin and subject to the penalty of death. Jesus’ death and resurrection provide the possibility of deliverance, usually called “salvation,” from the power of sin and death (1 Cor. 15:51–57; Gal. 1:4; Col. 1:13; 1 Thess. 1:10).

Throughout the Bible, God provides deliverers and is a deliverer (Judg. 3:15; 2 Sam. 22:2; 2 Kings 13:5; Ps. 40:17). The NT prefers the term “Savior,” applying it to God the Father and to Jesus Christ.

/a> Deliverance provides relief or escape from a detrimental situation or the prospect of adverse circumstances. There are many terms in the Bible that express this thought, such as “save,” “rescue,” “redeem,” “set free,” “bring out,” “escape,” “avenge,” “vindicate,” “preserve,” “give legal protection,” as well as “deliver.” Deliverance may come from God or humans and may be from physical temporal distress or spiritual in nature.

The principal example of deliverance in the OT is the exodus, God’s deliverance of Israel from Egypt. The greatness of this deliverance comes from several factors: (1) the extremity of Israel’s circumstance, which was long-term slavery to one of the world’s superpowers; (2) the extent of God’s power displayed in the ten plagues upon Egypt and in Israel’s safe passage through the Red Sea; (3) its fulfillment of a promise to Abraham, beginning the process of giving his descendants the land; (4) its foundational place in Israel’s tradition and holy days (Passover). This event becomes the main component of the historical background clause of the covenant and a reminder to covenant faithfulness (e.g., Exod. 20:2; Lev. 22:33; 23:43; Num. 15:41; Deut. 4:20; 6:12; 20:1; Josh. 24:5–7, 17; Judg. 6:8; 1 Kings 9:9; Jer. 34:13; Ezek. 20:10; Dan. 9:15). When Jeremiah prophesies of the Babylonian exile and the later return from exile, he portrays it in the manner of or as surpassing the exodus (Jer. 16:14–15).

The NT continues the exodus theme in that Jesus’ death and resurrection, the foundation for salvation, coincide with the celebration of Passover. This constitutes deliverance in that all humanity is in slavery to the power of sin and subject to the penalty of death. Jesus’ death and resurrection provide the possibility of deliverance, usually called “salvation,” from the power of sin and death (1 Cor. 15:51–57; Gal. 1:4; Col. 1:13; 1 Thess. 1:10).

Throughout the Bible, God provides deliverers and is a deliverer (Judg. 3:15; 2 Sam. 22:2; 2 Kings 13:5; Ps. 40:17). The NT prefers the term “Savior,” applying it to God the Father and to Jesus Christ.

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).

First Timothy, along with 2 Timothy and Titus, is known as one of the apostle Paul’s Pastoral Epistles. These letters have earned this designation because they were addressed to pastors and deal with particular problems that they were facing in their respective churches. This letter was addressed to Timothy, whom Paul affectionately called “my son,” most likely because the apostle had led him to faith in Christ (1:18; cf. 1:2). At Paul’s urging, Timothy took on the role of providing leadership to the church in Ephesus (1:3), which had been infiltrated by false teachers (1:3–4). Paul wrote this letter to Timothy, instructing him to rebuke the false teachers in the church and to fight the good fight of faith (1:18). The apostle concisely summarized the major theme of this letter by saying, “I am writing you these instructions so that . . . you will know how people ought to conduct themselves in God’s household, which is the church of the living God, the pillar and foundation of the truth” (3:14–15).

Authorship and Date

The authenticity of the Pastoral Epistles has been questioned more than that of any of Paul’s other letters. This is due to differences in style and theology as well as the difficulty in establishing their place in the travels of Paul in Acts. The letters, it is presumed, were written by a disciple of Paul after his death and were meant to be a “testament” honoring the memory of Paul.

Despite these claims, there is not enough evidence to overturn Pauline authorship. Differences in theology can be accounted for by the different circumstances addressed. Stylistic differences may have arisen from Paul’s use of an amanuensis (scribe) to write the letter, a common practice in the ancient world (see Rom. 16:22). In terms of their time of writing, the Pastorals were likely written after Paul’s first Roman imprisonment and so after the narrative of Acts. Paul expected to be released (Phil. 1:25; 2:24), and it is likely that his Jewish accusers never made the long and arduous trip from Jerusalem to Rome.

Evidence in support of Pauline authorship can also be found: (1) The many personal comments to Timothy (cf. 2 Tim. 4:13) show that the letters are either authentic, or blatant forgeries, not “testaments” honoring the memory of Paul. (2) All of Paul’s key theological themes appear in the Pastorals. (3) Paul makes negative statements about himself that a disciple writing to honor Paul is unlikely to have made, for example, referring to himself as the “worst” of sinners (1 Tim. 1:15).

First Timothy was likely written between AD 63 and 66, after Paul’s release from his first imprisonment in Rome (AD 62–63; cf. 3:14; Acts 28:30–31).

Recipient

Timothy came from the city of Lystra in Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey). His father was Greek and his mother Jewish (Acts 16:1). Eunice, his mother, and Lois, his grandmother, brought him up under the influence of the Jewish religion (2 Tim. 1:5; 3:14–15). Timothy gained a good reputation among the local believers, so Paul added him to his missionary team (Acts 16:2–3). He accompanied Paul during his second and third missionary journeys (Acts 16:3; 17:14; 18:5; 19:22; 20:4). Paul listed Timothy as the coauthor or cosender in several of his letters (2 Cor. 1:1; Phil. 1:1; Col. 1:1; 1 Thess. 1:1; 2 Thess. 1:1; Philem. 1) and included him in the greetings that he sent to the church in Rome (Rom. 16:21). In addition, the apostle sent his protégé as a messenger to Thessalonica (1 Thess. 3:1–6), Corinth (1 Cor. 4:17; 16:10), and Philippi (Phil. 2:19, 23). Because Timothy was by nature shy and timid, Paul had to exhort him to use his gifts and to boldly carry out his ministry (1 Cor. 16:10; 1 Tim. 4:12; 5:23; 2 Tim. 1:6–7).

Background and Occasion

During his third missionary journey, Paul warned the Ephesian church that false teachers would arise from their midst (Acts 20:30). After his first imprisonment in Rome (cf. Acts 28:16, 20, 30), the apostle accompanied Timothy to Ephesus (1 Tim. 1:3). They discovered that certain teachers were spreading “false doctrines” in the church. According to 1 Timothy, these false teachings included a morbid interest in myths, old wives’ tales, and genealogies. Some were promoting controversies, meaningless talk, incorrect teaching of the law, abstinence from marriage and certain foods, and ungodly gossip (1:3–7; 4:3, 7; 5:13; 6:4–5). These false teachers also attempted to secure financial gain by promoting their doctrines (6:3–5). Paul hoped to visit Ephesus again (3:14), but in the meantime he wrote this letter instructing Timothy and the church leadership to correct these problems (1:3–4; 3:15).

Paul’s instructions to Timothy were not only to defend the church from false teachers but also to give guidelines on the proper behavior for men and women in the church (2:1–15). He gave Timothy standards for selecting godly leaders (3:1–16) and practical advice on dealing with various age groups in the church (5:1–20). Throughout the book Paul exhorts his young protégé and the church to lead a holy life (1:18; 2:8–15; 4:12–16; 6:6–8, 11–14, 20).

Outline

I. Introduction (1:1–2)

II. Warning about False Teachers and Exhortation to Keep the Faith (1:3–20)

A. False teaching and false teachers of the law (1:3–11)

B. Paul, an example of God’s grace (1:12–17)

C. Exhortation to keep the faith in the midst of apostasy (1:18–20)

III. Prayer and Proper Behavior in the Church (2:1–15)

A. Prayer in the church (2:1–7)

B. Men and women in the worship service (2:8–15)

IV. Qualifications for Church Leaders (3:1–16)

A. Qualifications for elders (3:1–7)

B. Qualifications for deacons (3:8–13)

C. The purpose behind Paul’s instructions (3:14–16)

V. Correction of False Teaching (4:1–16)

A. Apostasy and false teaching (4:1–5)

B. Exhortation to confront apostasy (4:6–16)

VI. Responsibility toward Various Groups in the Church (5:1–6:19)

A. Relating to men and women in the church (5:1–2)

B. Responsibility toward widows (5:3–16)

C. Responsibilities toward elders (5:17–25)

D. Responsibility of slaves toward their masters (6:1–2)

E. Contrasting corrupt teachers with true godliness (6:3–10)

F. Pursuing the life of faith (6:11–16)

G. Instructing the wealthy (6:17–19)

VII. Closing Admonition and Benediction (6:20–21)

An enclosed farming area where vegetables and fruit trees are cultivated. Vineyards, orchards, and olive groves belong to a broader category of the garden. Gardens in biblical times generally were surrounded by a wall of mud-bricks or stones, along with a hedge of thorny bushes (Prov. 24:31; Song 4:12; Isa. 5:5). A booth or watchtower was set up to guard it from thieves and wild animals (Job 27:18; Isa. 1:8; 5:2). For irrigation, water was raised from wells or brought in through a canal system connected to rivers or springs.

Since most of the land of Canaan was a hilly and arid region, a well-watered garden was highly valued. Thus Balaam blesses the tents of the Israelites to be “like gardens beside a river” (Num. 24:6–7; cf. Ps. 1:3; Jer. 17:8). Notably, in Gen. 13:10 the Plain of Jordan, in its fertility from the ample water supply, is likened to two places: “the garden of the Lord” and “the land of Egypt.” The land of Egypt had developed vegetable gardens, with an irrigation system connected to the Nile (Deut. 11:10; cf. Num. 11:5). The garden of the Lord, or the garden of Eden, was also such a place of fruitfulness, with rivers and fruit trees, especially the tree of life (Gen. 2:9–10).

The garden of Eden also carries various connotations that are developed in the rest of the Bible. It is a place secluded from the world, where nakedness is not shameful (Gen. 2:25). Song of Songs describes the garden as a place of perfect love. It is also a meeting place between God and human beings (Gen. 2:16–17; 3:8–14; cf. idolatrous gardens in Isa. 1:29–31; 65:3; 66:17). More important, God is the gardener who planted it (Gen. 2:8).

The metaphorical identification of God as the gardener is frequently developed in the OT. In Deut. 11:10–12 the land of Canaan is described as a garden that God himself will take care of. Isaiah presents Zion as the vineyard that God planted and cultivated but decided to destroy due to its unfruitfulness (Isa. 5:1–7; cf. Jer. 12:10; Ezek. 19:10; Joel 2:3); after the time of its desolation, however, God also promises to restore and care for it (Isa. 27:2–6). Restored Zion is likened to a well-watered garden and even the garden of Eden (Isa. 51:3; 58:11; 61:11; cf. Jer. 31:12; Ezek. 36:34–35; 47:12).

Descriptions of God as the gardener perhaps convey the conception of kingship. Gardens belonged to socially prestigious people, especially royalty, as indicated by the references to the king’s garden at Jerusalem (2 Kings 25:4; Jer. 39:4; 52:7; Neh. 3:15) as well as the Persian palace garden (Esther 1:5; 7:7–8). But a royal garden was particularly regarded as the main achievement of a king (Eccles. 2:4–6; also note the story of Naboth’s vineyard in 1 Kings 21). The allusions to the garden of Eden in the taunt songs of the kings of Tyre, Assyria, and Pharaoh (Ezek. 28:13; 31:8–9, 16, 18) also support this relationship.

Metaphorical use of the garden continues in the NT. The people of God are described as the vegetation whose fruits reveal their identities (cf. Matt. 7:16–19). The need to bear fruit is particularly emphasized in the vineyard imagery of John 15, in which God is introduced as a farmer, Jesus as the vine, and believers as its branches. Paul mentions the bearing of fruit as the goal of Christian life (Rom. 7:4–5; Phil. 1:11; Col. 1:10), which is possible through the work of the Holy Spirit (Gal. 5:22–25). Revelation 21:1–22:5 describes the new Jerusalem as a restored garden of Eden, in the midst of which a river of life, issuing from beneath God’s throne, provides abundant water for the tree of life on both sides.

Also noteworthy is the reference in the Gospel of John to the two gardens: the garden of Jesus’ arrest (18:1–11) and the garden of Jesus’ burial (19:41). Considering their location in Jerusalem and the usage of royal gardens for burial (cf. 2 Kings 21:18), it seems that John mentions the gardens in order to underline Jesus’ kingship, which he particularly develops in John 18–19. Mary’s perception of the risen Christ as a gardener possibly supports this interpretation (John 20:15).

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

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

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

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

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

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

The 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).

Colossians is a letter sent by Paul to a church in Colossae when he was in prison. The letter was Paul’s first direct contact with the church, which may have been started by one of his missionary associates, Epaphras (Col. 1:7). Epaphras was from Colossae (4:12), a city of Asia Minor located in the Lycus Valley, known for its fertile soil and green pastures. Some commentators suggest that Epaphras also started churches in Hierapolis and Laodicea (4:13), neighboring cities in the valley that were situated around the Lycus River about ten miles apart. Colossae was a free city located on the main Roman road that ran from Ephesus and Sardis toward the east, and it was populated by native Phrygians, as well as Greeks, Romans, and Jews. More than likely, the church was founded during Paul’s extended ministry in Ephesus, where persons from the region heard Paul’s gospel and from where Paul sent missionary associates such as Epaphras into the surrounding cities (Acts 19). Tychicus, the letter carrier (Col. 4:7–8), was also one of Paul’s associates from the same region; he decided to accompany Paul to Macedonia after the team left Ephesus (Acts 20:4).

The close association of these churches in Asia Minor and the time frame when the letters were written may explain why Paul’s letter to the Colossians is so similar in content to his letter to the Ephesians. Paul was in prison (probably in Rome) when he sent both of these letters (Eph. 3:1; Col. 4:10, 18). The instructions regarding Tychicus, the carrier for both letters, are identical, nearly verbatim (Eph. 6:21–22; Col. 4:7–8). The letters share the same outline, following some of the same themes, especially toward the end, where Paul gives instructions regarding the household. An affinity also exists between Colossians and Philemon, a letter sent to the patron of one of the house churches in Colossae. Most of the names mentioned by Paul appear in both letters: Timothy, Onesimus, Archippus, Epaphras, Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, and Luke (Col. 1:1; 4:9–17; Philem. 1, 10, 23–24). Paul was also in prison, along with Epaphras, at the time he sent his letter to Philemon. All of this indicates that these letters were written about the same time, from the same place, to the same region. Why did Paul send three letters to the same region, especially since letter production was so expensive? Why not send one letter to the entire region (like Galatians), to be read by all the house churches? Obviously, the problems of each church were so different that they required a separate authoritative word from their apostle.

Questionable Practices in Colossae

The Colossians were doing several things that Paul found troublesome, as we learn from Col. 2. They were judging each other for not keeping certain dietary regulations and holy days (2:16). Some were claiming superiority through personal worship experiences that involved visions of angels (2:18). Some subscribed to strict discipline of the human body, punishing themselves through various acts of self-abasement in order to curb fleshly appetites (2:23) and enhance their worship experiences (2:18). It seems that many of them were trying to live by an expanded version of the divine command given in the story of Adam, Eve, and the forbidden fruit: “Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!” (2:21). Paul recognized that all these claims and rules had the “appearance of wisdom” but in reality were nothing more than traditions based on “self-imposed” religion, and that such ascetic practices were useless in denying fleshly appetites (2:22–23). Where did the Colossians get all these strange ideas that led to such bizarre behavior?

Paul described the false teaching as an imprisoning “through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces” in opposition to the teachings of Christ (2:8). Because the Colossian church was made up primarily of Gentile converts (1:27), many interpreters argue that the problems resulted from the meshing of the gospel with local, pagan ways. The Phrygians were known for their fascination with magical rituals, the ability to manipulate the powers (earth, wind, fire, spirits, angels, often referred to as “elementary principles of the world”) for human purposes. Paul’s description of the false teaching as a “hollow and deceptive philosophy” based on the “human tradition” may also reveal the influence of Greek ideas and Roman ways in the church. The Greeks operated with a dualistic worldview of spirit versus flesh, leading some philosophers to argue that punishing the body ensured purity of the soul. Furthermore, the Romans believed that the gods had given them power to rule the world, bringing fertility to the lands of conquered peoples. Worshiping Caesar brought economic rewards to devoted subjects of the empire. In other words, all this talk in the Colossian letter about power and sovereignty, philosophy and self-discipline was Paul’s way of dealing directly with the root of the problem: the syncretism of pagan ways and the gospel according to Paul.

Some interpreters believe that all these peculiar teachings derive not from pagan religions but rather from Judaism. After all, Paul’s references to observing the Sabbath, keeping commandments, and angelic worship point toward a Jewish context. Paul also affirmed that his Gentile converts were “circumcised with a circumcision not performed by human hands” (2:11), perhaps revealing his concern that Jewish ways were creeping into his Gentile church. He even put the church on notice, identifying those among “the circumcision” (Jews) who were trustworthy ministers of the gospel (he mentions only three, Barnabas, John Mark, and Jesus called Justus [4:10–11]). The implication, of course, was to ignore the rest of “the circumcision.” But if the troublemakers in Colossae were Jewish opponents of Paul, how does one explain all the mystical and ascetic elements of this false teaching? Some argue that the expression “worship of angels” was not an idolatrous practice of venerating angelic beings. Instead, the phrase should be translated “angelic worship,” implying that some Colossians claimed to have been transported to heaven and joined the angels in worship of God. This may have been similar to the experiences of an obscure form of Judaism: Jewish mystics who claimed to preserve esoteric revelations through out-of-body experiences of heavenly visions and auditions (see Paul’s description in 2 Cor. 12:1–7). Furthermore, the strict dietary code and sexual ethic of Jewish law were often interpreted by first-century pagans as promoting an ascetic lifestyle. In other words, Paul was countering a more cryptic branch of Judaism that flourished in a region known for its affinity for the mysterious.

Outline and Content

I. Introduction (1:1–14)

A. Greeting (1:1–2)

B. Thanksgiving (1:3–8)

C. Prayer (1:9–14)

II. The Person and Work of Christ (1:15–23)

III. Paul’s Role in Christ’s Mission to the Gentiles (1:24–2:5)

IV. False Teaching versus the Work of Christ (2:6–23)

V. Instructions on Life in Christ

A. In the church (3:1–17)

B. In the home (3:18–4:1)

VI. Generic Exhortations (4:2–6)

VII. Specific Instructions (4:7–9)

VIII. Final Greetings (4:10–17)

IX. Paul’s Signature (4:18)

Whatever the source of the false teaching referred to in Colossians, Paul attempts to correct the misbehavior of his Gentile converts by building an argument that the work of Christ is all-sufficient. Paul begins the letter by describing the person and work of Christ in cosmic terms (1:15–23). Next he recounts his role in the mission of Christ to bring the riches of the kingdom to Gentiles (1:24–2:5). After reminding the Colossians of their reception of the gospel, Paul juxtaposes the deceptive practices of the false teaching with the evidence of the work of Christ in them (2:6–23). Then he gives a number of instructions on what life in Christ is supposed to look like: in the church (3:1–17) and in the home (3:18–4:1). He concludes the letter with generic exhortations (4:2–6), specific instructions (4:7–9), and greetings (4:10–17). Finally, Paul signs the letter, obviously written by a secretary, with the simple request: “Remember my chains” (4:18)—a curious signature that makes the argument of his letter even more appealing.

The Power and Peace of Christ’s Kingdom

It is ironic that Paul chose to describe the work of Christ in such grandiose terms, picturing him as a mighty ruler over all creation, even while the apostle was in prison—an undeniable sign of Roman sovereignty. In Col. 1, in some of the loftiest language Paul ever used to describe Christ’s kingdom authority, the apostle reminds his converts that the Lord is “the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation” (v. 15), an obvious reference to Christ’s deity. Then Paul piles on the attributes, presenting Christ as the creator of all things, even angelic creatures (v. 16), the sustainer of all things (v. 17), the head of the church, the eternal one, the guarantor of the resurrection (v. 18), the fullness of God (v. 19), the reconciler of all things—the one who made peace with the enemies of God through his blood on the cross (vv. 20–22). Despite Paul’s circumstances and what Rome may claim, the apostle holds fast to the irrepressible sovereignty of Christ’s kingdom, displayed by Paul’s perseverance in the midst of suffering and the full assurance that every Colossian believer is “fully mature in Christ” (vv. 22–29). Indeed, all the treasures of Christ’s kingdom—love, knowledge, wisdom, discipline—are to be found in the life of his converts (2:1–5), unless someone “deludes” them into thinking otherwise.

Paul’s rhetorical strategy of extolling the power of Christ’s kingdom makes perfect sense in light of the false teaching that was plaguing the Colossian church. Apparently, the Colossians were persuaded to feel inadequate about their faith, vulnerable to the imposition of legalistic standards that ensured victory over fleshly indulgences. To counter his opponents, Paul unpacks the significance of the incarnation and the cross (2:9–15). Because Christ was God in flesh (in whom “all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form” [v. 9]), his death on the cross was a cosmic event that defeated all the powers that oppose God. Using military imagery, Paul argues that Christ canceled every debt against humanity when he nailed all “decrees” (even Caesar’s) to the cross. In that singular act of sacrifice, Christ disarmed the foes of God, humiliating them publicly by making a spectacle of them, triumphing over all powers (v. 15)—something that Caesar loved to do after successful military campaigns. Therefore, if Christ’s victory over all powers has been secured through his death, and since he rules as the firstborn of the dead (resurrection) over all creation, and since the Colossians are “fully mature in Christ” (1:28) because of their faith in him, then no pretense of self-abasement or angelic visions can diminish what Christ has done and will continue to do in the lives of Paul’s converts in Colossae. Christ is all they needed to overcome the powers.

In Col. 3, Paul tells how the Colossians draw upon the power of Christ when they “set [their] minds on things above, not on earthly things” (v. 2). The things on the earth are “sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires and greed” (v. 5). Paul believes that his converts died with Christ (“hidden with Christ in God” [v. 3]) and therefore had set aside all these idolatrous practices when they put on the “new self,” being conformed to the image of Christ (vv. 8–10). This renewal will be found in all believers, regardless of ethnicity (v. 11), and will result in peace for all. Indeed, Paul sees the “peace of Christ” as the undeniable evidence of his reign exhibited in the hearts of those who believe (vv. 12–15). And what would that peace look like? Believers will be patient, forgiving one another with hearts full of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and love resulting in unity (vv. 12–14). Their worship of God will be characterized by songs of thankfulness and admonition, receiving the word with wisdom (v. 16). In their homes husbands, wives, and children will model deference and love, and masters and slaves will seek justice and fairness, as if they were serving Christ (3:18–4:1). The Colossians will be devoted to prayer, will treat outsiders fairly, and will be known for always speaking graceful words (4:2–6). In other words, where Caesar’s empire has promoted Roman peace by enforcing Roman law in provinces, cities, and households, Paul believes that the peace of Christ will rule the hearts of his subjects, establishing a kingdom of love and unity, in word and deed, in the home as well as the church. So, in his final greetings, Paul talks about faithful slaves and beloved siblings as sources of encouragement in the ever-expanding work of the kingdom of God (4:7–17), making his simple request, “Remember my chains” (4:18), sound more like an act of defiance than a pitiful plea.

Reading, understanding, interpreting, and properly applying the word of God to life and ministry is the work of Bible study. The essence of this work is the systematic and methodical analysis of the biblical text. The methods that one uses to understand the text of Scripture will vary in keeping with one’s presuppositions concerning the nature of the Bible and the preunderstandings of the interpreter. A methodical study of the Bible considers the nature and state of the biblical text, the issues related to the interpreter, and a procedure for discovering authorial intent.

The Nature of the Bible

Revelation. We begin with the assumption (or presupposition) that the Bible is the revealed word of God, the contents of which were progressively made known to authors guided by the Holy Spirit. God guided the authors of Scripture, using their personalities and writing styles, so that the canonical books of the Bible were composed exactly as God intended. These books in their original form are inspired and inerrant. The word of God is true and trustworthy and thus a reliable rule for faith and practice.

The ability of God to communicate with his creation, along with his desire to make himself known to his human creatures, is the essence of revelation. The preservation of God’s communication, the revelation of his will to people in the word of God, is what makes the Bible a unique literary document, distinguished from all other literary productions. God manifests himself in a general way to all people through creation and conscience (general revelation) and in a special way to select individuals at particular times (special revelation). These communications and manifestations are available now only by consulting certain sacred writings. The revelation given by God and recorded by people in the canon of Scripture is what God spoke in the past. However, the living and abiding nature of the word (Heb. 4:12) spoken in a past, historical context continues to be relevant. The voice of God can still be heard today. Just as revelation determines how theology is formulated, so revelation determines how a biblical text is to be read in the process of literary analysis.

Given the nature of the Bible’s origin, it is historically accurate in what it teaches. This accuracy is not limited to spiritual and doctrinal issues; it is inseparably connected with the historical and factual. Thus, when the Bible makes reference to political and historical figures, it speaks with authority and accuracy.

Accessibility and clarity. The word of God is a written text revealed and inspired by God (2 Tim. 3:16–17), who engaged about fifty authors over a period of approximately eleven hundred years. The OT text was originally recorded in Hebrew and Aramaic (Gen. 31:47; Ezra 4:8–6:18; 7:12–26; Jer. 10:11). The NT text was originally recorded in Koine Greek. Since the text was composed using the languages and literary conventions of the day, it was written to be intelligible and understandable. The biblical text has been distributed throughout the world and translated into just about every major language, so that the text continues to be accessible to many people today.

As Martin Luther observes in The Bondage of the Will, the clarity of the Bible is twofold. There is external clarity that can be discerned through the laws of grammar, and there is internal clarity attained through the work of the Holy Spirit illuminating the reader of Scripture. Related to these points is the perspicuity of Scripture, which refers to the clarity of Scripture in its main points. Unnuanced, these principles can create unfortunate misunderstandings. The clarity and perspicuity of Scripture relate to the result or the outcome of Bible study and only to major teachings. The intended message of Scripture is clear, understandable, and accessible.

Historical, literary, and theological aspects. While the Bible is written to be clear and accessible, the process of discerning the clarity is complex and involves a thorough examination of the historical, literary/linguistic, and theological aspects of each biblical text. Since the Bible is a document characterized by literary, historical, and theological impulses, it must be interpreted with these impulses in mind.

The historical character of the text affirms that the historical details (culture, setting, time, people or characters in the story, and readers of the composition) of a narrative are absolutely essential to the meaning and the message of the text. Historical details create the stage for what God is doing with his people in time and space. Historical details remind the reader that the written word has a context. The text is anchored to time and place.

The literary character of the text involves both the rhetorical strategies and the linguistic factors of a written text that are critical to the communication process. The act of literary communication involves the author/sender sending a message or text to the reader/recipient. The Bible must be interpreted in keeping with the act of literary communication: author, reader, and text. Literary types, structural development, and discourse function are formal features of the text that contribute to the communicating author’s intended meaning. The OT uses at least five basic literary types or genres: law, historical narrative, poetry, wisdom, and apocalyptic. The NT uses some of the same literary types, as well as parables and the epistolary, or letter, form. Gospel can also be considered a distinct literary form.

Finally, the text has a theological aspect, an ideology, a message, and an intention that God reveals on the historical stage by means of appropriate literary devices.

Unity and diversity. There is a definite unity to the diversity of the Bible that must be grasped in the interpretive process. Opinions vary depending on one’s understanding of the origin and nature of Scripture. Some readers stress the diversity of the biblical text, choosing to highlight apparent contradictions and irresolvable situations. Others go to the other extreme and may be in danger of oversimplifying, collapsing contexts, and ignoring the message of the text. Consider, for example, the importance of not reading too much into the discussion of faith and works as developed by Paul and James. The diversity of emphasis in these two authors is not contradictory in the overall message of the Bible.

Diversity obviously exists in the languages, writers, cultures, and message of various books of the Bible. However, given the reality of divine authorship, these diverse pieces are woven together coherently. There are longitudinal themes such as kingdom, covenant, and messiah that run from the OT into the NT. In addition, there is the developed use of terminology across both Testaments with terms such as “redemption” and “the word.”

The unity/diversity aspect of the biblical text ultimately contributes to an enriched understanding of both biblical and systematic theology. Biblical theology tends to consider the diversity of the writers and the different time periods and is willing to let diverse themes stand together. Systematic theology, which builds upon the findings of biblical theology, is more attentive to the unity of Scripture. These approaches complement each other and encourage what is called an “analogy of faith.” Once again, Luther gave shape to this phrase by opposing the ecclesiastical tradition of the church in favor of Scripture as the basis of dogma. The “analogy of faith” principle advocates that doctrine must cohere and not contradict the holistic teaching of Scripture. Doctrine cannot be a formulation of a few proof texts.

Summary. These summations concerning the nature of Scripture are by no means exhaustive, but they do provide a foundation for determining the nature and use of various interpretive methods. The process of interpretation will be given more attention below, but at this point it is worth emphasizing that methods of Bible study must contribute to the discovery of the author’s intended meaning. Since God is the ultimate author, our concern is to know his intended meaning. This goal is not without challenge. Many conclude that original authorial intent is unattainable because of the distance between our present cultural and historical situation and that of the biblical writers. An additional obstacle is the variety of interpretations that arise from community use of the biblical text. The challenges of time, culture, geography, and language can be faced successfully to arrive at the clear meaning of Scripture by means of a methodical analysis of all aspects of the biblical text.

The Role of the Interpreter

Before considering the relation of the interpreter to the process of Bible study methods, it is helpful to sort out who is the audience of a text. Written texts are composed with someone in mind, an original audience or recipients, who may or may not read the finished product. Beyond the original readers there is an extended audience of readers throughout time, including us, who read and interpret the word of God and seek to apply it to their lives.

Preunderstandings and presuppositions. The readers of the biblical text apply the methods of Bible study in order to understand the intended meaning of Scripture. In addition to the science of methodology there is an art to interpretation that involves recognizing personal preunderstandings brought to the text and presuppositions influencing an interpretation of the textual data.

So how do we differentiate a preunderstanding from a presupposition? “Preunderstanding” refers to the preconceived notions and understandings that one brings to the text, which have been formulated, both consciously and subconsciously, before one actually studies the text in detail. This includes specific experiences and encounters with the text that tend to make us assume that we already understand it. Sensitivity to preunderstanding reminds us that we are never approaching the text for the first time, completely neutral or totally objective. Our personal experiences, cultural influences (music, movies, literature), family background, church, race, and nationality are factors influencing our preunderstanding. These preunderstandings are ultimately corrected or nurtured by the constant influence of the biblical text.

Presuppositions, on the other hand, are the faith commitments held by Christians that do not change each time they study the Bible (in contrast to preunderstanding). This article, for example, began with a statement of presuppositions regarding God and the Bible. The analogy of faith deems such presuppositions to be unchangeable constants.

Approach to the text. How, then, should the interpreter approach the text? Although total objectivity is not a realistic goal, Christian readers do want to understand what God has revealed for them. So, the text is approached through faith and by means of the Holy Spirit, who gives understanding of the word that God authored. In order for this to happen, the reader must stand before the biblical text and allow it to speak rather than standing behind it to push it in a predetermined direction. The goal of Bible study is discovery of meaning, not creation of meaning.

A critical factor in Bible study is the realization that the process is an exercise with sacred dimensions. The primary object in this task is to know God, to understand his will, and to love and trust him, which is Paul’s desire for all Christians (Col. 1:9–14; Eph. 1:15–23; 3:14; Phil. 3:8–13). God is glorified when we find our joy and delight in him through an enriched understanding of his word. This can happen when one depends upon the Holy Spirit for understanding (1 Cor. 2:9–16). The study of the sacred text is a delicate balance of thinking, working, and analyzing while reverently and humbly depending upon the Spirit.

The Methods of Bible Study

Terminology. The activity of interpretation is best described as a spiral, a twist of assorted factors that take the reader from the intention of the original context to the present context of life within the community of the church. The process involves terms and procedures that can be confusing. The word “hermeneutics” is most commonly understood to describe the science and art of biblical interpretation. The goal of hermeneutics is to discern the original intent of the text (“what it meant”) and the contemporary significance of the text (“what it means”). Scholars regularly discuss which of these two is primary in hermeneutical process. The term, however, is broad enough to cover both aspects.

The English word “exegesis” is derived from a Greek term meaning “to lead out.” When applied to Bible study, it defines the nature of the work as taking meaning out of the text and not reading meaning into it. The exegetical process involves the study of words, syntax, grammar, and theology. Another critical term, “contextualization,” refers to an aspect of the interpretive process involving cross-cultural communication of the text’s significance for today.

Defining these key terms in hermeneutics brings to the surface an ongoing discussion associated with Bible study, the question of meaning, which is defined in several ways. Meaning is understood by some as the author’s intention. Some scholars explain meaning as referent (what the author is talking about), others describe it as sense (what is being said about the referent), and finally it can be understood as significance (a contemporary, cross-cultural significance).

Inductive Bible study. How one gets to meaning involves a process of study, the crux of which is the practice of inductive Bible study. Although this objective process can be defined in several ways, it is distinguished by four key elements.

(1) The first element is observation. This involves a careful, close reading of the text to determine exactly what it says. This step makes repeated use of the who, what, when, where, and why questions that enable the reader to become fully saturated with the particulars of the passage. Attention to textual detail will result in accurate interpretation. Observation requires a will to observe, exactness in making observations, and persistence and endurance in the process. Observation is focused on the words of the passage, the structure (the relations and interrelations between terms), the literary form, and the atmosphere or tone. (2) Interpretation follows. The goal of this element is to define meaning and to answer the question, What does this text mean? (3) Correlation, the third element, asks, How does this text relate to the rest of the Bible (cf. analogy of faith)? (4) The fourth element, application, asks, What does this text mean to me?

Each step in the inductive process is elaborate and includes its own particular interests and issues that are critical for determining meaning. Take, for example, the issues of meaning associated with the second step, interpretation. This process must be fully engaged for accuracy in interpretation. The business of interpretation involves a constant interaction of parts. Microaspects are observed in light of macrofeatures, and vice versa.

The interpretive process of the text is fairly standard. Given the nature of inductive analysis, the inductive process begins at the microlevel of examining and interpreting terms, words, and sentences. It then highlights the next structural levels of paragraphs, units of paragraphs, chapters, and then the book itself.

Context and literary type. Since context and literary type are critical elements in the exercise of analysis, attention will be given to each. It is often said that context determines meaning. This statement is a reminder that a term, a theme, or a structural element is ultimately governed by a larger set of factors. The term “trunk,” for example, in the context of a family vacation could refer to what is packed, whereas in the conversation of lumberjacks it could be a reference to a tree. Context takes into consideration all historical referents. In addition, context includes all the individual parts of a composition (phrases, sentences, paragraphs, chapters). Examination of a book’s particular historical context involves also looking at the geography, politics, economics, and cultural practices of a given audience featured. The danger of ignoring context in biblical study is that original authorial intent is replaced with all kinds of self-centered textual understandings.

Literary type is also a critical factor in the inductive process. Another word for literary form is genre, derived from a French term that can be translated “kind, sort, style.” It denotes a type or species of literature or literary form. Genre analysis profitably yields an understanding of the author’s intention in a given literary composition. For example, genre triggers the reader’s expectations and reading strategy. Genre guides the reader in understanding how to read and interpret a given text. For example, we read and interpret a story differently from the way we read and interpret a poem. Each of these genres has its own rules and strategies for communicating meaning. Genre analysis involves observing the form along with the mood, setting, function, and content of the text.

Each literary type has a set of distinctive characteristics that must be examined. To understand what the biblical authors are saying (and what God is saying through them), we must play by the rules of the literary genre that they selected. Genre is a generalization or an abstraction within which variation occurs. Thus, a genre may be defined broadly and include many texts that share fewer traits, while on the other hand it may be defined in a more narrow way and include fewer texts sharing many more traits.

The process of genre analysis is undertaken inductively. The analysis begins with the literary class, continues with the individual texts, and then interacts with both. Genre can be understood only by analyzing the parts of a given text. Although there are plenty of helpful textbooks devoted to virtually every literary type, one must keep in mind that genre descriptions arise out of the details of the text. Genre is not a predescribed form that is imposed on the text for the discovery of authorial intent.

Once the historical, literary, and theological aspects of the particular book are settled, the book is then analyzed in its specific canonical context (NT or OT) and then considered in the overall canon (the Bible). The results of this process are then pursued in relation to the interests of biblical and systematic theology.

Summary. The method of inductive Bible study is not only a specific procedure of analysis, but also a guide for a variety of methodical practices. The process of inductive Bible study encourages a spirit of attention to detail and reminds the reader of the overall goal in interpretation: to know what the text meant and means. In addition, the very nature of the inductive method promotes a curiosity and yields a definite joy of discovery. The inductive process is a guide to the interpreter in an analysis of either the Hebrew or the Greek text.

Other methods of Bible study. There are other methods of Bible study associated with distinct views of the Bible’s nature and origin. These critical methods of interpretation arise out of a discussion regarding how the Bible should be interpreted. The history of this discussion goes all the way back to the third century AD with the debates between the Alexandrians and Antiochians. The sixteenth-century Reformation, the eighteenth-century Enlightenment, and the twentieth century were significant turning points that yielded new ways of conceiving the world and the biblical text. Thus, it is important to understand that there are no neutral methods of biblical interpretation.

Historical-critical approaches. The more-popular critical methods of Bible study came to the forefront in the eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth centuries with the rise of deism and rationalism. The prevailing opinion of this time was the fundamental similarity of all historical texts and all historical events. The historical-critical method was founded on the principles of criticism, analogy, and correlation. The supernatural origin of the Bible is denied, and it is considered to be a book like all other historical documents. The biblical text is viewed as a tradition created. It is an artifact of the evolutionary process preserved and passed along to a subsequent generation and must be approached with an attitude of doubt.

In contrast to the approach taken in this article, the historical-critical understanding of the locus of revelation is not the biblical text revealed by God. The locus of revelation shifts outside the text. The reader no longer looks to the text to hear the word of God. The reader now looks behind or beyond the biblical text to another story, one that is independent of the biblical text. Instead of studying a process of progressive revelation, the historical-critical methodologies are committed to sorting out complex historical traditions. Sources are identified, sorted chronologically, and studied for their distinctive themes. The methods are sometimes organized according to the particular interests of schools of thought: history of religions, history of traditions, history of forms, history of redactions.

Literary approaches. Finally, there are methods of Bible study associated with the set of literary presuppositions. First, this approach to the biblical text takes an ahistorical view of the text. In other words, there is no concern for its historical cause and effect. It is concerned only with a synchronic analysis of the finished product. Second, the text is viewed as an autonomous entity. Once a text is completed, it has a life of its own. The interpretive process is then devoted to the text’s final form, looking at the whole instead of the parts. Meaning comes from the language and style of the text. Finally, meaning is understood as aesthetics; it is not related to authorial intention or a historical occasion. Theoretically, the literary approach views the text as if it is cut off from an author and from a historical context. In this construct, meaning shifts from the past to the present. Interpretation then is an interaction of text and reader. The methods of interpretation associated with these literary presuppositions include literary criticism, rhetorical criticism, structuralism, narrative criticism, and reader response criticism.

A distinction needs to be made between the various occurrences of the words “pray” and “prayer” in most translations of the Bible and the modern connotation of the same words. In the OT, the main Hebrew words translated as “to pray” and “prayer” (palal and tepillah) refer to the act of bringing a petition or request before God. They do not normally, if ever, refer to the other elements that we today think of as being included in the act of praying, such as praise or thanksgiving. The same is the case in the NT, where the main Greek words translated “to pray” and “prayer” (proseuchomai and proseuchē) also specifically denote making a petition or request to God. But other words and constructions in both Testaments are also translated “to pray” and “prayer,” and this article will deal with the larger concept, including praise, thanksgiving, petition, and confession, as opposed to the narrower meaning of the particular Hebrew and Greek terms (see also Praise; Thanksgiving; Worship).

Old Testament

In the OT there is no language or understanding comparable to modern ways of talking about prayer as conversational or dialogical. Prayer does not involve mutuality. Prayer is something that humans offer to God, and the situation is never reversed; God does not pray to humans. Understanding this preserves the proper distinction between the sovereign God and the praying subject. Therefore, prayers in the OT are reverential. Some OT prayers have extended introductions, such as that found in Neh. 1:5, that seem to pile up names for God. These should be seen as instances not of stiltedness or ostentation, but rather as setting up a kind of “buffer zone” in recognition of the distance between the Creator and the creature. In the NT, compare the same phenomenon in Eph. 1:17.

Many of the prayers in the OT are explicitly set in a covenantal context. God owes nothing to his creatures, but God has sworn to be faithful to those with whom he has entered into covenant. Thus, many OT prayers specifically appeal to the covenant as a motivation for both those praying and God’s answering (1 Kings 8:23–25; Neh. 1:5–11; 9:32; Pss. 25:10–11; 44:17–26; 74:20; 89:39–49). In postexilic books such as Ezra, Nehemiah, and Daniel, an important feature in the recorded prayers is the use of prior Scripture, praying God’s words (many times covenantal) back to him (in the NT, see Acts 4:24–30). Also, the closeness engendered by the covenant relationship between God and his people was unique in the ancient Near Eastern context. So Moses can marvel, “What other nation is so great as to have their gods near them the way the Lord our God is near us whenever we pray to him?” (Deut. 4:7).

Prayer must be made from a heart that is right toward God. There is no guarantee that God will hear every prayer (Ps. 66:18; Prov. 1:28; Isa. 1:15; 59:2). For the most part, the “rightness” that God requires in prayer is “a broken and contrite heart” (Ps. 51:17; cf. Isa. 66:2).

Although several passages talk about prayer in the context of sacrifice (e.g., Gen. 13:4), there is surprisingly little emphasis on prayer in the legal texts about sacrifice in the Pentateuch, no prescriptions for the kinds of prayer or the words that are to be said in connection with the sacrifices. Interestingly, however, in later, perhaps postexilic contexts, where there is no temple and therefore no sacrifice, we find texts such as Ps. 141:2, where the petitioner asks God to accept prayer as if it were an offering of incense and the evening sacrifice (cf. Prov. 15:8; in the NT, see Rev. 5:8).

A presupposition of prayer in the OT is that God hears prayer and may indeed answer and effect the change being requested. Prayer is not primarily about changing the psychological state or the heart of the one praying, but rather about God changing the circumstances of the one praying.

There is a striking honesty, some would even say brashness, evident in many OT prayers. Jeremiah laments that God has deceived both the people (Jer. 4:10) and Jeremiah himself (20:7) and complains about God’s justice (12:1–4). Job stands, as it were, in God’s face and demands that the Almighty answer his questions (Job 31:35–37). The psalmist accuses God of having broken his covenant promises (Ps. 89:39). While it is true that God does, to some extent, rebuke Jeremiah and Job (Jer. 12:5; Job 38–42), he does not ignore them or cast them aside. This would seem, ultimately, to encourage such honesty and boldness on the part of those who pray.

Literarily, accounts of prayers in narratives serve to provide characterizations of the ones praying. The recorded prayers of people such as Abraham, Moses, Hannah, Ezra, and Nehemiah demonstrate their true piety and humility before God. By contrast, the prayer of Jonah recorded in Jon. 2, in its narrative context, betrays a certain hypocrisy on the part of the reluctant prophet.

New Testament

The depiction of prayer in the NT is largely consistent with that of the OT, but there are important developments.

Jesus tells his disciples to address God as “Father” (Matt. 6:9; cf. Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6). Although recent scholarship has demonstrated that “Abba” is not the equivalent of our “daddy,” it expresses a certain intimacy that goes beyond what was prevalent at the time, but retains an element of reverence as well. God is not just “Father,” but “our Father in heaven” (Matt. 6:9). Even Jesus addresses God as “Holy Father” (John 17:11), “Righteous Father” (John 17:25), and “Father, Lord of heaven and earth” (Matt. 11:25). And Paul, as mentioned earlier, uses a buffer zone, rarely in his epistles using the word “Father” by itself, but instead referring to “God our Father” (e.g., Rom. 1:7) and frequently using the phrase “the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Rom. 15:6; 2 Cor. 1:3; 11:31; Eph. 1:3; cf. Eph. 1:17; Col. 1:3). God is our Father, but still he is a Father before whom one reverently kneels (Eph. 3:14).

Prayer to God is now to be made in the name of Jesus (Matt. 18:19–20; John 14:13; 15:16; 16:23–26). While there is some debate as to the exact nuance of this idea, it seems clear that, at the very least, prayers in Jesus’ name need to be ones that Jesus would affirm and are in accordance with his holy character and expressed will. It is, in essence, saying to God that the prayer being offered is one that Jesus would approve.

Prayer can also be made to Jesus (John 14:14), and such devotion to him in the early church is evidence of his being regarded as deity. The instances of this in the NT are rare, however, and generally either exclamatory or rhetorical (Acts 7:59; 1 Cor. 16:22; Rev. 22:20). The norm would still seem to be that prayer is to be made to the Father, through Jesus’ name.

Unlike anything prior in the OT, Jesus tells his followers to pray for their enemies (Matt. 5:44). Jesus and his followers serve as examples (Luke 23:34; Acts 7:60).

The Holy Spirit plays a vital role in prayers. It is by him that we are able to call out, “Abba, Father” (Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6). The Spirit himself intercedes for us (Rom. 8:26). Our praying is to be done in the Spirit (Eph. 6:18; Jude 20; possibly 1 Cor. 14:15).

Jesus encourages fervent and even continual or repeated prayer (Luke 18:1–8), but not showy or repetitive prayer (Matt. 6:5–8).

Jesus becomes the model of prayer. He prays before important decisions (Luke 6:12–13) and in connection with significant crisis points (Matt. 14:23; 26:36–44; Luke 3:21; 9:29; John 12:27). He offers prayers that are not answered (Luke 22:41–44) and prayers that are (Heb. 5:7). Even as he tells his disciples to always pray and not give up (Luke 18:1 [which is also the meaning of the sometimes overly literalized “pray without ceasing” in 1 Thess. 5:17 NRSV]), so he himself wrestles in prayer (Luke 22:41–44; Heb. 5:7). He has prayed for his disciples (John 17; Luke 22:32), and even now, in heaven, he still intercedes for us (Heb. 7:25). Indeed, our intercession before God’s throne is valid because his is (Heb. 4:14–16).

An inland territory in west-central Anatolia (modern-day Turkey). Biblical mention of Phrygia occurs primarily in the book of Acts. Such occurrences include the presence of Phrygian Jews in Jerusalem at the first Pentecost (2:10), the evangelism of Paul and Barnabas at the Phrygian cities of Pisidian Antioch and Iconium (13:14–14:4), the passing through Phrygia by Paul, Silas, and Timothy on their way west through Asia Minor (16:6), and the travels of Paul through “the region of Galatia and Phrygia” (18:23). Other biblical accounts include Col. 1:7; 4:12–13, which cites the work of Epaphras in three Phrygian cities, and Rev. 1:11; 3:14–22, which addresses the Phrygian church at Laodicea as one of the seven churches of Asia.

The state of remaining faithful to God in light of the revelation given to persons at their particular stage of redemptive history. Perseverance has always required a continued trust in God, obedience to his commands, and reliance upon his merciful provision.

Old Testament. In the OT, perseverance is related to the covenantal relationship that God had with his people. Abraham was the quintessential model of perseverance, as he was faithful in waiting for God to provide him with the heir that had been promised him. Israel had to persevere by remaining faithful to its covenant with God, which meant being obedient to his commandments and decrees. In the subsequent history of Israel, however, the nation lacked perseverance and fidelity and often turned away from God to worship the gods of other nations. Indeed, the sweep of Israel’s history, according to the prophets, was that Israel had failed miserably at persevering in the covenantal promises and thus had incurred God’s judgment (e.g., Neh. 9:6–37; Ezek. 20:1–39; Dan. 9:4–19).

New Testament. In the Gospels, Jesus is the ultimate example of the faithful Israelite and also provides many exhortations about perseverance in light of the dawning kingdom of God. Jesus perseveres when tested by Satan in the wilderness (Matt. 4:1–11; Mark 1:12–13; Luke 4:1–13). The parables of growth warn about those who do not persevere in their reception of the word (e.g., Luke 8:15). Endurance under the duress of eschatological trials is also the means by which one gains one’s life (Matt. 10:22; 24:13; Mark 13:13; Luke 21:19). In his farewell speech in the Gospel of John, Jesus exhorts his disciples to abide in him as branches stay rooted in a vine or else risk being cut off (John 15:1–11).

In the course of his letters, Paul has much to say about persevering in faith in Christ. Paul considers “endurance” (hypomonē) to be among the cardinal qualities of a believer (Rom. 5:3–4; 1 Thess. 1:3; 2 Thess. 1:4; 8:25; 1 Tim. 6:11; Titus 2:2). There is a sense in which God himself gives endurance to the believer (Rom. 15:5; Col. 1:11; 2 Thess. 3:5). Paul offers some stern warnings about apostasy and falling away (Rom. 11:21–22; 1 Cor. 10:1–12; Gal. 5:4), but he also adds that Christians experience a sense of assurance because God is “faithful” and will keep believers “blameless” on the day of Christ Jesus (1 Cor. 1:8–9; Phil. 1:10; 1 Thess. 3:13; 5:23). Paul also writes that nothing in creation can separate a believer from the love of God in Jesus Christ (Rom. 8:31–39).

The General Epistles provide further teaching about perseverance. James commends the virtue of perseverance that leads to maturity (1:3–4) and urges his audience to endure just as Job endured sufferings (5:11). Jude writes that believers should endeavor to “keep yourselves in God’s love” while also acknowledging that God himself will “keep you from falling” (vv. 21, 24). The book of Hebrews is built around the theme of perseverance and endurance, with key statements about not “drift[ing] away” (2:1) and the exhortation to “run with perseverance the race marked out for us” (12:1).

The book of Revelation focuses strongly on persevering in light of persecution and hardship. In the letters to the seven churches there is the repeated promise of the blessings that await those who “overcome,” which means enduring in the faith (2:7, 11, 17, 26; 3:5, 12, 21; cf. 21:7). The churches of Asia Minor corporately are admonished to remain faithful to the point of death (2:10) and in light of the coming judgment (14:12). Three times calls for patient endurance are made (1:9; 13:10; 14:12). In Revelation, perseverance means holding to the testimony of Jesus (12:17; 17:6; 19:10; 20:4).

Summary. The biblical teaching on perseverance attempts to balance divine sovereignty and human responsibility. The warnings of apostasy and the promises of assurance are interwoven in such a way so as not to compromise the grace and justice of God.

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

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

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

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

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

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

A literary device whereby an author writes under a name other than his or her own (a pseu-donym) or a book is deliberately assigned to a fictitious author (pseudepigraphy). In the case of ancient Jewish practice, the name borrowed was usually that of some famous worthy of the past (e.g., Enoch, Ezra), with the aim of bolstering the credentials of the book to which the name was attached. This is a common phenomenon in the Apocrypha (e.g., 2 Esdras, Baruch, Epistle of Jeremiah). It is even more common in the large collection of Second Temple texts now known as the Pseudepigrapha (e.g., 1 Enoch, Odes of Solomon, Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs). (See also Pseudepigrapha.)

Scholars continue to debate the morality of pseudonymity and whether it is proper for a pseudonymous book to be placed within the canon of Scripture. Some excuse pseudonymity as a mere stylistic device or explain it as a culturally accepted convention. Others put a positive spin on the phenomenon, and so, for example, claim that in the Pastoral Epistles literate disciples of Paul sought to apply his ideas to newly developing situations in the years following his death. Some argue that such deception for a good cause is legitimate because it helped to gain a hearing for orthodox teaching. Others totally reject pseudepigraphy, viewing it as little better than deception and forgery and thus unworthy of literature viewed as inspired by God. The last approach seems to be most consistent with a high view of Scripture.

Over the last two hundred years a number of biblical books have been identified by some scholars as pseudonymous, notably Daniel in the OT, and in the NT six letters in the Pauline corpus—Ephesians, Colossians, 2 Thessalonians, and the Pastoral Epistles (1–2 Timothy, Titus)—together with 2 Peter and Jude.

Old Testament

Certainly one mark of Jewish apocalyptic works is pseudonymity, and the book of Daniel is often viewed by critical scholars as no exception to this rule. It is difficult, however, to see how the name “Daniel” would have served to give the OT book named after him the desired authority, which is a major motivation for attaching a pseudonym.

Apart from the book itself, we essentially know nothing about this Daniel, whom it describes as living in Babylonia during the exile. In the book of Ezekiel we have two references to a Daniel (Ezek. 14:14, 20). In this passage the prophet says that when the land sins against God, “even if these three men—Noah, Daniel and Job—were in it, they could save only themselves by their righteousness.” There is, in addition, the further reference in Ezek. 14:16 to “these three men,” obviously referring to the same three men. Ezekiel speaks of these three men as embodiments of righteousness, but the fact that this Daniel figure is placed between two ancients (Noah and Job) suggests that he too is a figure of antiquity, not a contemporary of Ezekiel.

Ezekiel 28:3 taunts the king of Tyre: “Are you wiser than Daniel? Is no secret hidden from you?” Here “Daniel” (the Hebrew text at Ezek. 28:3 actually reads “Danel”) obviously is a proverbial figure of wisdom, and this implies that he may have been well known in Tyre and therefore could well have been Syro-Phoenician. There is in fact a “Danel” figure mentioned in Ugaritic literature (before 1200 BC). On the other hand, the Daniel of the book of Daniel is not a patriarch like Enoch, Noah, and Job, nor is he a famous figure like Ezra or the assistant to a prophet, as Baruch was to Jeremiah. Daniel is known only through the book that bears his name. In other words, the usual motivation explaining the use of a pseudonym does not apply to the canonical book of Daniel.

Also, the closing up and sealing of the book (Dan. 8:26; 12:4) is no mere device necessitated by using as a pseudonym the name of a man supposedly living in the time of Cyrus. Rather, the sealing signifies that much of the content of the later chapters of the book will be understood only when the predicted events begin to take place at a future time, with the book placing Daniel (its presumed author) in the sixth century BC.

New Testament

The Pastoral Epistles. With regard to the Pastoral Epistles, all three letters claim to be authored by the apostle Paul (1 Tim. 1:1; 2 Tim. 1:1; Titus 1:1). In seeking to determine the time of composition within a chronology of Paul’s ministry, they must be dated toward the end of his life (in the case of 2 Timothy, perhaps only shortly before his death) and after the close of the book of Acts, which concludes with the apostle’s arrival in Rome (Acts 28). In his letter to the Romans, Paul anticipates a future mission to Spain (Rom. 15:23–29), but the Pastoral Epistles imply that he returned to the east. Ephesus and Crete are the presumed locations of his coworkers Timothy and Titus (see 1 Tim. 1:3; Titus 1:5). On this supposition, these letters arise from a further mission there and a second (and final) imprisonment. The fact that Acts says nothing about this is no evidence against the supposition.

It is not necessary to view the mundane ecclesiastical arrangements of the Pastoral Epistles as inconsistent with a charismatic model of leadership in other Pauline letters (note the address to “overseers and deacons” in Phil. 1:1). We know from Acts 14:23; 20:17–38 that Paul appointed elders in the churches that he founded. The theological differences between the Pastoral Epistles and earlier Pauline compositions should not be overemphasized. The stress laid upon “the faith” and “sound teaching” is exactly what might be expected if Paul anticipated his imminent removal from the scene.

The other alternative is the theory that after Paul’s death, members of a Pauline school (Timothy? Luke? Onesimus?) continued to supply letters under his name, addressing contemporary church issues in the guise of Paul, hoping to guarantee the legacy of the great apostle. Some scholars go as far as to assert that an admirer of Paul combined genuine Pauline fragments within a fictitious framework. The earliest listing of Paul’s letters is that of Marcion (c. AD 140), and he fails to mention the Pastoral Epistles. That omission may be explained in various ways. There is no evidence, however, that anyone in the early church (orthodox or heterodox) who knew of the letters doubted their authenticity.

Ephesians and Colossians. There is some textual uncertainty with regard to the words “in Ephesus” in Eph. 1:1, making it possible that the letter was originally a circular letter written by Paul to more than one church. The letter mentions no one by name except Tychicus (Eph. 6:21), who carried the letter (perhaps to different churches in turn). This is enough to explain its more general orientation than some other Pauline letters, and any supposed theological “development” is not beyond the likely boundaries of Paul’s expansive mind (e.g., his teaching on the church). The use of the “in Christ” formula in Ephesians is not substantially different from how Paul handles it elsewhere. The letter’s twofold structure of doctrinal exposition followed by practical instruction fits a common Pauline epistolary pattern. Indeed, F. F. Bruce refers to this letter as “the quintessence of Paulinism.”

In a number of ways Colossians and Ephesians share a common outlook. The Jewish Christian proto-gnostic false teaching combated in Colossians is not referred to in other Pauline letters, but it may have been a local Colossian variant. The letter is explicitly attributed to Paul, at both the beginning and the end (Col. 1:1; 4:18). Arguments about authorship based on style and unusual vocabulary are notoriously slippery and inconclusive. The high Christology of cosmic dimensions in Col. 1:15–20; 2:9–10, 15 is also present in undisputed Pauline letters (cf. Phil. 2:9–11). The obvious relationship of Colossians to the little letter to Philemon (e.g., Col. 4:9, 17; cf. Philem. 2, 12) is one of the strongest arguments in favor of the Pauline authorship of the former. Any theory of pseudepigraphy turns Col. 4:7–17, with its many names, into fanciful and free invention with little real purpose. Also, we might wonder why a later author chose to write under the name of Paul to a church that Paul himself did not found.

Second Thessalonians. Some view the futuristic timetable provided in 2 Thess. 2:1–12 as moving beyond Paul, with the world’s end not yet in sight, for the writer teaches that certain things have to happen before the return of Christ, whereas in 1 Thess. 4:13–5:11 Paul has a nearer end in view. In both letters, however, the apostle is seeking to dampen the wrong kind of apocalyptic excitement. In 2 Thessalonians, it is clear that Paul knows a tradition of Jesus’ teaching about the future, such as also found in Mark 13, so that there is nothing unreasonably “late” in the views expressed.

The substantial overlap in material between 1 Thessalonians and 2 Thessalonians is not evidence of the labors of a later disciple and imitator of Paul. It is highly ironic that some scholars suggest 2 Thessalonians is not a genuine letter of Paul: the letter itself condemns a fake letter supposedly from him that claims that the day of the Lord is already past (2 Thess. 2:2), and the original letter included a final greeting written in Paul’s own hand (2 Thess. 3:17).

Second Peter and Jude. As for 2 Peter, it was not as well known in the early church as 1 Peter, and some (according to Origen) were hesitant to accept it. Its author claims to be a witness to the transfiguration (2 Pet. 1:16–18). Such personal allusions need not be attributed to a later writer who was trying too hard to show that he was Simon Peter. The obvious connection of 2 Pet. 1:14 to what is recorded in John 21 does not prove that the writer was dependent on that chapter.

The remarkable parallels between 2 Peter and Jude show that one is dependent upon the other, though scholars are not unanimous about which letter was prior. We cannot rule out that Peter would use and adapt the writings of a less prominent leader such as Jude. Jude makes use of apocryphal books, but neither in Jude nor in 2 Peter do arguments against the particular brand of false teaching require a second-century (postapostolic) dating.

A literary device whereby an author writes under a name other than his or her own (a pseu-donym) or a book is deliberately assigned to a fictitious author (pseudepigraphy). In the case of ancient Jewish practice, the name borrowed was usually that of some famous worthy of the past (e.g., Enoch, Ezra), with the aim of bolstering the credentials of the book to which the name was attached. This is a common phenomenon in the Apocrypha (e.g., 2 Esdras, Baruch, Epistle of Jeremiah). It is even more common in the large collection of Second Temple texts now known as the Pseudepigrapha (e.g., 1 Enoch, Odes of Solomon, Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs). (See also Pseudepigrapha.)

Scholars continue to debate the morality of pseudonymity and whether it is proper for a pseudonymous book to be placed within the canon of Scripture. Some excuse pseudonymity as a mere stylistic device or explain it as a culturally accepted convention. Others put a positive spin on the phenomenon, and so, for example, claim that in the Pastoral Epistles literate disciples of Paul sought to apply his ideas to newly developing situations in the years following his death. Some argue that such deception for a good cause is legitimate because it helped to gain a hearing for orthodox teaching. Others totally reject pseudepigraphy, viewing it as little better than deception and forgery and thus unworthy of literature viewed as inspired by God. The last approach seems to be most consistent with a high view of Scripture.

Over the last two hundred years a number of biblical books have been identified by some scholars as pseudonymous, notably Daniel in the OT, and in the NT six letters in the Pauline corpus—Ephesians, Colossians, 2 Thessalonians, and the Pastoral Epistles (1–2 Timothy, Titus)—together with 2 Peter and Jude.

Old Testament

Certainly one mark of Jewish apocalyptic works is pseudonymity, and the book of Daniel is often viewed by critical scholars as no exception to this rule. It is difficult, however, to see how the name “Daniel” would have served to give the OT book named after him the desired authority, which is a major motivation for attaching a pseudonym.

Apart from the book itself, we essentially know nothing about this Daniel, whom it describes as living in Babylonia during the exile. In the book of Ezekiel we have two references to a Daniel (Ezek. 14:14, 20). In this passage the prophet says that when the land sins against God, “even if these three men—Noah, Daniel and Job—were in it, they could save only themselves by their righteousness.” There is, in addition, the further reference in Ezek. 14:16 to “these three men,” obviously referring to the same three men. Ezekiel speaks of these three men as embodiments of righteousness, but the fact that this Daniel figure is placed between two ancients (Noah and Job) suggests that he too is a figure of antiquity, not a contemporary of Ezekiel.

Ezekiel 28:3 taunts the king of Tyre: “Are you wiser than Daniel? Is no secret hidden from you?” Here “Daniel” (the Hebrew text at Ezek. 28:3 actually reads “Danel”) obviously is a proverbial figure of wisdom, and this implies that he may have been well known in Tyre and therefore could well have been Syro-Phoenician. There is in fact a “Danel” figure mentioned in Ugaritic literature (before 1200 BC). On the other hand, the Daniel of the book of Daniel is not a patriarch like Enoch, Noah, and Job, nor is he a famous figure like Ezra or the assistant to a prophet, as Baruch was to Jeremiah. Daniel is known only through the book that bears his name. In other words, the usual motivation explaining the use of a pseudonym does not apply to the canonical book of Daniel.

Also, the closing up and sealing of the book (Dan. 8:26; 12:4) is no mere device necessitated by using as a pseudonym the name of a man supposedly living in the time of Cyrus. Rather, the sealing signifies that much of the content of the later chapters of the book will be understood only when the predicted events begin to take place at a future time, with the book placing Daniel (its presumed author) in the sixth century BC.

New Testament

The Pastoral Epistles. With regard to the Pastoral Epistles, all three letters claim to be authored by the apostle Paul (1 Tim. 1:1; 2 Tim. 1:1; Titus 1:1). In seeking to determine the time of composition within a chronology of Paul’s ministry, they must be dated toward the end of his life (in the case of 2 Timothy, perhaps only shortly before his death) and after the close of the book of Acts, which concludes with the apostle’s arrival in Rome (Acts 28). In his letter to the Romans, Paul anticipates a future mission to Spain (Rom. 15:23–29), but the Pastoral Epistles imply that he returned to the east. Ephesus and Crete are the presumed locations of his coworkers Timothy and Titus (see 1 Tim. 1:3; Titus 1:5). On this supposition, these letters arise from a further mission there and a second (and final) imprisonment. The fact that Acts says nothing about this is no evidence against the supposition.

It is not necessary to view the mundane ecclesiastical arrangements of the Pastoral Epistles as inconsistent with a charismatic model of leadership in other Pauline letters (note the address to “overseers and deacons” in Phil. 1:1). We know from Acts 14:23; 20:17–38 that Paul appointed elders in the churches that he founded. The theological differences between the Pastoral Epistles and earlier Pauline compositions should not be overemphasized. The stress laid upon “the faith” and “sound teaching” is exactly what might be expected if Paul anticipated his imminent removal from the scene.

The other alternative is the theory that after Paul’s death, members of a Pauline school (Timothy? Luke? Onesimus?) continued to supply letters under his name, addressing contemporary church issues in the guise of Paul, hoping to guarantee the legacy of the great apostle. Some scholars go as far as to assert that an admirer of Paul combined genuine Pauline fragments within a fictitious framework. The earliest listing of Paul’s letters is that of Marcion (c. AD 140), and he fails to mention the Pastoral Epistles. That omission may be explained in various ways. There is no evidence, however, that anyone in the early church (orthodox or heterodox) who knew of the letters doubted their authenticity.

Ephesians and Colossians. There is some textual uncertainty with regard to the words “in Ephesus” in Eph. 1:1, making it possible that the letter was originally a circular letter written by Paul to more than one church. The letter mentions no one by name except Tychicus (Eph. 6:21), who carried the letter (perhaps to different churches in turn). This is enough to explain its more general orientation than some other Pauline letters, and any supposed theological “development” is not beyond the likely boundaries of Paul’s expansive mind (e.g., his teaching on the church). The use of the “in Christ” formula in Ephesians is not substantially different from how Paul handles it elsewhere. The letter’s twofold structure of doctrinal exposition followed by practical instruction fits a common Pauline epistolary pattern. Indeed, F. F. Bruce refers to this letter as “the quintessence of Paulinism.”

In a number of ways Colossians and Ephesians share a common outlook. The Jewish Christian proto-gnostic false teaching combated in Colossians is not referred to in other Pauline letters, but it may have been a local Colossian variant. The letter is explicitly attributed to Paul, at both the beginning and the end (Col. 1:1; 4:18). Arguments about authorship based on style and unusual vocabulary are notoriously slippery and inconclusive. The high Christology of cosmic dimensions in Col. 1:15–20; 2:9–10, 15 is also present in undisputed Pauline letters (cf. Phil. 2:9–11). The obvious relationship of Colossians to the little letter to Philemon (e.g., Col. 4:9, 17; cf. Philem. 2, 12) is one of the strongest arguments in favor of the Pauline authorship of the former. Any theory of pseudepigraphy turns Col. 4:7–17, with its many names, into fanciful and free invention with little real purpose. Also, we might wonder why a later author chose to write under the name of Paul to a church that Paul himself did not found.

Second Thessalonians. Some view the futuristic timetable provided in 2 Thess. 2:1–12 as moving beyond Paul, with the world’s end not yet in sight, for the writer teaches that certain things have to happen before the return of Christ, whereas in 1 Thess. 4:13–5:11 Paul has a nearer end in view. In both letters, however, the apostle is seeking to dampen the wrong kind of apocalyptic excitement. In 2 Thessalonians, it is clear that Paul knows a tradition of Jesus’ teaching about the future, such as also found in Mark 13, so that there is nothing unreasonably “late” in the views expressed.

The substantial overlap in material between 1 Thessalonians and 2 Thessalonians is not evidence of the labors of a later disciple and imitator of Paul. It is highly ironic that some scholars suggest 2 Thessalonians is not a genuine letter of Paul: the letter itself condemns a fake letter supposedly from him that claims that the day of the Lord is already past (2 Thess. 2:2), and the original letter included a final greeting written in Paul’s own hand (2 Thess. 3:17).

Second Peter and Jude. As for 2 Peter, it was not as well known in the early church as 1 Peter, and some (according to Origen) were hesitant to accept it. Its author claims to be a witness to the transfiguration (2 Pet. 1:16–18). Such personal allusions need not be attributed to a later writer who was trying too hard to show that he was Simon Peter. The obvious connection of 2 Pet. 1:14 to what is recorded in John 21 does not prove that the writer was dependent on that chapter.

The remarkable parallels between 2 Peter and Jude show that one is dependent upon the other, though scholars are not unanimous about which letter was prior. We cannot rule out that Peter would use and adapt the writings of a less prominent leader such as Jude. Jude makes use of apocryphal books, but neither in Jude nor in 2 Peter do arguments against the particular brand of false teaching require a second-century (postapostolic) dating.

The idea of redemption was well known in antiquity. More than a simple notion of deliverance, redemption spoke as much of the grace of the redeemer as of the deliverance of the redeemed. Classical texts use the Greek word apolytrōsis (“redemption”) to articulate the ransom payment given to release a slave, a captive of war, or someone sentenced to death. The group of words based on the Greek term lytron (“ransom”) conveys the idea of payment for release. The corresponding Hebrew word padah is a commercial term rooted in the idea of the transfer of ownership.

Old Testament

The experience of the exodus gave the idea of redemption religious significance. The commemoration of this redemptive event included the dedication of the firstborn to Yahweh (Exod. 13:12–13). Moreover, Israel itself, God’s own firstborn (Exod. 4:22), was redeemed by Yahweh—language that Isaiah later picked up to describe Abraham (Isa. 29:22). As the theme of redemption continued to broaden, God’s redemption came to include deliverance from all Israel’s troubles (Ps. 25:22). Redemption included the whole of the human situation, not just the eternal destiny (or the new age to come).

Another Hebrew term, ga’al, generally relates to the kinsman-redeemer. In the case of a person who had sold property due to poverty or even gone into slavery to pay a debt, a kinsman could become a redeemer by buying back the property (Lev. 25:25–28) and/or purchasing freedom from slavery (25:47–49). The book of Ruth describes this, detailing the relationship between the impoverished Ruth and Boaz, the kinsman-redeemer. The prophets and the psalms apply this understanding to how God redeems Israel (Isa. 43:1–3; Ps. 19:14; cf. Job 19:25). God, however, does not pay ransom to anyone (Isa. 52:3–4); rather, he causes redemption by his power (45:13).

The awaited Messiah, promised through the prophets, would become God’s ultimate expression of his redemptive love. When the people’s continued rebellion against God finally broke the Mosaic covenant, God’s judgment sent them into captivity and exile in Babylon. Now, without place and identity, their only hope for a future was if God would ransom his people and restore his covenant with them. This longing for God’s redemption grew during the exile. As the persecutions increased further during the so-called intertestamental period (an approximately four-hundred-year period between the OT and the NT), the earlier prophetic promises became a full-blown messianic hope. God will send the Messiah as redeemer to ransom his people from Greek and Roman oppression.

New Testament

The NT champions the theme of redemption (see Luke 4:18–19). When Jesus came, teaching that he would redeem his people from the slavery of sin (John 8:34–36), he spoke of himself as a ransom for many (Matt. 20:28 // Mark 10:45). Paul’s theology of the cross accentuated the same connection between sin, slavery, and Jesus’ ransom. He saw people as sold into slavery under sin (Rom. 6:17; 7:14) and redeemed by Jesus’ sacrifice (3:24). The Christian idea of ransom followed the accepted contemporary idea that people who are sentenced to death (Rom. 6:23) can gain their life back if a redeemer buys it with a ransom (Col. 1:13–14). The predominance of apolytrōsis in the NT, compared to common Greek literature of that period, underscores its significance for early Christian conceptualization.

Without reflecting on to whom the ransom should be paid, which was made an issue by later theologians and philosophers, the NT authors highlight Jesus’ blood as the ransom payment (e.g., Eph. 1:7; Heb. 9:12; cf. Rev. 5:9). The emphases of the NT remain on the need of the redeemed, the grace of the redeemer, and the effects of the redemption. Christ’s ransom transfers the redeemed from one sphere of influence to another, or rather, from one owner to another. Incomparable to commonly known worldly ransoms, which consisted of monetary means and remained external to the redeemer himself (1 Pet. 3:18–19), Jesus substituted his own life for the life of those he redeemed (antilytron hyper [1 Tim. 2:6]). God still did not pay ransom to anyone, but rather caused it by his own power.

The OT notion that redemption points to God’s involvement in the present, allowing for a historical experience of salvation, fills the NT conception as well. This is seen most clearly in Paul’s theological ethics. The new ownership accomplished by Jesus’ redemption enables a new kind of life to be lived in freedom from the slavery of sin (1 Cor. 6:20; Gal. 5:1). More than just a matter of ethics, it follows Jesus’ emphasis of an “already but not yet” experience of God’s presence. Redemption is evidenced by the Spirit’s presence (Rom. 8:1–17).

Although redemption is present, the fullness of it still awaits the future (Rom. 8:18–23), when the redeemer will fill all in all (1 Cor. 15:28; Col. 1:19–20). Contrary to Hellenistic conceptions of redemption, which expect redemption from the body, Paul expects redemption of the body. God’s eschatological redemption is universal; it restores the relationship between creation and the Creator (Col. 1:21–23; Eph. 1:7–10).

The idea of redemption was well known in antiquity. More than a simple notion of deliverance, redemption spoke as much of the grace of the redeemer as of the deliverance of the redeemed. Classical texts use the Greek word apolytrōsis (“redemption”) to articulate the ransom payment given to release a slave, a captive of war, or someone sentenced to death. The group of words based on the Greek term lytron (“ransom”) conveys the idea of payment for release. The corresponding Hebrew word padah is a commercial term rooted in the idea of the transfer of ownership.

Old Testament

The experience of the exodus gave the idea of redemption religious significance. The commemoration of this redemptive event included the dedication of the firstborn to Yahweh (Exod. 13:12–13). Moreover, Israel itself, God’s own firstborn (Exod. 4:22), was redeemed by Yahweh—language that Isaiah later picked up to describe Abraham (Isa. 29:22). As the theme of redemption continued to broaden, God’s redemption came to include deliverance from all Israel’s troubles (Ps. 25:22). Redemption included the whole of the human situation, not just the eternal destiny (or the new age to come).

Another Hebrew term, ga’al, generally relates to the kinsman-redeemer. In the case of a person who had sold property due to poverty or even gone into slavery to pay a debt, a kinsman could become a redeemer by buying back the property (Lev. 25:25–28) and/or purchasing freedom from slavery (25:47–49). The book of Ruth describes this, detailing the relationship between the impoverished Ruth and Boaz, the kinsman-redeemer. The prophets and the psalms apply this understanding to how God redeems Israel (Isa. 43:1–3; Ps. 19:14; cf. Job 19:25). God, however, does not pay ransom to anyone (Isa. 52:3–4); rather, he causes redemption by his power (45:13).

The awaited Messiah, promised through the prophets, would become God’s ultimate expression of his redemptive love. When the people’s continued rebellion against God finally broke the Mosaic covenant, God’s judgment sent them into captivity and exile in Babylon. Now, without place and identity, their only hope for a future was if God would ransom his people and restore his covenant with them. This longing for God’s redemption grew during the exile. As the persecutions increased further during the so-called intertestamental period (an approximately four-hundred-year period between the OT and the NT), the earlier prophetic promises became a full-blown messianic hope. God will send the Messiah as redeemer to ransom his people from Greek and Roman oppression.

New Testament

The NT champions the theme of redemption (see Luke 4:18–19). When Jesus came, teaching that he would redeem his people from the slavery of sin (John 8:34–36), he spoke of himself as a ransom for many (Matt. 20:28 // Mark 10:45). Paul’s theology of the cross accentuated the same connection between sin, slavery, and Jesus’ ransom. He saw people as sold into slavery under sin (Rom. 6:17; 7:14) and redeemed by Jesus’ sacrifice (3:24). The Christian idea of ransom followed the accepted contemporary idea that people who are sentenced to death (Rom. 6:23) can gain their life back if a redeemer buys it with a ransom (Col. 1:13–14). The predominance of apolytrōsis in the NT, compared to common Greek literature of that period, underscores its significance for early Christian conceptualization.

Without reflecting on to whom the ransom should be paid, which was made an issue by later theologians and philosophers, the NT authors highlight Jesus’ blood as the ransom payment (e.g., Eph. 1:7; Heb. 9:12; cf. Rev. 5:9). The emphases of the NT remain on the need of the redeemed, the grace of the redeemer, and the effects of the redemption. Christ’s ransom transfers the redeemed from one sphere of influence to another, or rather, from one owner to another. Incomparable to commonly known worldly ransoms, which consisted of monetary means and remained external to the redeemer himself (1 Pet. 3:18–19), Jesus substituted his own life for the life of those he redeemed (antilytron hyper [1 Tim. 2:6]). God still did not pay ransom to anyone, but rather caused it by his own power.

The OT notion that redemption points to God’s involvement in the present, allowing for a historical experience of salvation, fills the NT conception as well. This is seen most clearly in Paul’s theological ethics. The new ownership accomplished by Jesus’ redemption enables a new kind of life to be lived in freedom from the slavery of sin (1 Cor. 6:20; Gal. 5:1). More than just a matter of ethics, it follows Jesus’ emphasis of an “already but not yet” experience of God’s presence. Redemption is evidenced by the Spirit’s presence (Rom. 8:1–17).

Although redemption is present, the fullness of it still awaits the future (Rom. 8:18–23), when the redeemer will fill all in all (1 Cor. 15:28; Col. 1:19–20). Contrary to Hellenistic conceptions of redemption, which expect redemption from the body, Paul expects redemption of the body. God’s eschatological redemption is universal; it restores the relationship between creation and the Creator (Col. 1:21–23; Eph. 1:7–10).

The idea of redemption was well known in antiquity. More than a simple notion of deliverance, redemption spoke as much of the grace of the redeemer as of the deliverance of the redeemed. Classical texts use the Greek word apolytrōsis (“redemption”) to articulate the ransom payment given to release a slave, a captive of war, or someone sentenced to death. The group of words based on the Greek term lytron (“ransom”) conveys the idea of payment for release. The corresponding Hebrew word padah is a commercial term rooted in the idea of the transfer of ownership.

Old Testament

The experience of the exodus gave the idea of redemption religious significance. The commemoration of this redemptive event included the dedication of the firstborn to Yahweh (Exod. 13:12–13). Moreover, Israel itself, God’s own firstborn (Exod. 4:22), was redeemed by Yahweh—language that Isaiah later picked up to describe Abraham (Isa. 29:22). As the theme of redemption continued to broaden, God’s redemption came to include deliverance from all Israel’s troubles (Ps. 25:22). Redemption included the whole of the human situation, not just the eternal destiny (or the new age to come).

Another Hebrew term, ga’al, generally relates to the kinsman-redeemer. In the case of a person who had sold property due to poverty or even gone into slavery to pay a debt, a kinsman could become a redeemer by buying back the property (Lev. 25:25–28) and/or purchasing freedom from slavery (25:47–49). The book of Ruth describes this, detailing the relationship between the impoverished Ruth and Boaz, the kinsman-redeemer. The prophets and the psalms apply this understanding to how God redeems Israel (Isa. 43:1–3; Ps. 19:14; cf. Job 19:25). God, however, does not pay ransom to anyone (Isa. 52:3–4); rather, he causes redemption by his power (45:13).

The awaited Messiah, promised through the prophets, would become God’s ultimate expression of his redemptive love. When the people’s continued rebellion against God finally broke the Mosaic covenant, God’s judgment sent them into captivity and exile in Babylon. Now, without place and identity, their only hope for a future was if God would ransom his people and restore his covenant with them. This longing for God’s redemption grew during the exile. As the persecutions increased further during the so-called intertestamental period (an approximately four-hundred-year period between the OT and the NT), the earlier prophetic promises became a full-blown messianic hope. God will send the Messiah as redeemer to ransom his people from Greek and Roman oppression.

New Testament

The NT champions the theme of redemption (see Luke 4:18–19). When Jesus came, teaching that he would redeem his people from the slavery of sin (John 8:34–36), he spoke of himself as a ransom for many (Matt. 20:28 // Mark 10:45). Paul’s theology of the cross accentuated the same connection between sin, slavery, and Jesus’ ransom. He saw people as sold into slavery under sin (Rom. 6:17; 7:14) and redeemed by Jesus’ sacrifice (3:24). The Christian idea of ransom followed the accepted contemporary idea that people who are sentenced to death (Rom. 6:23) can gain their life back if a redeemer buys it with a ransom (Col. 1:13–14). The predominance of apolytrōsis in the NT, compared to common Greek literature of that period, underscores its significance for early Christian conceptualization.

Without reflecting on to whom the ransom should be paid, which was made an issue by later theologians and philosophers, the NT authors highlight Jesus’ blood as the ransom payment (e.g., Eph. 1:7; Heb. 9:12; cf. Rev. 5:9). The emphases of the NT remain on the need of the redeemed, the grace of the redeemer, and the effects of the redemption. Christ’s ransom transfers the redeemed from one sphere of influence to another, or rather, from one owner to another. Incomparable to commonly known worldly ransoms, which consisted of monetary means and remained external to the redeemer himself (1 Pet. 3:18–19), Jesus substituted his own life for the life of those he redeemed (antilytron hyper [1 Tim. 2:6]). God still did not pay ransom to anyone, but rather caused it by his own power.

The OT notion that redemption points to God’s involvement in the present, allowing for a historical experience of salvation, fills the NT conception as well. This is seen most clearly in Paul’s theological ethics. The new ownership accomplished by Jesus’ redemption enables a new kind of life to be lived in freedom from the slavery of sin (1 Cor. 6:20; Gal. 5:1). More than just a matter of ethics, it follows Jesus’ emphasis of an “already but not yet” experience of God’s presence. Redemption is evidenced by the Spirit’s presence (Rom. 8:1–17).

Although redemption is present, the fullness of it still awaits the future (Rom. 8:18–23), when the redeemer will fill all in all (1 Cor. 15:28; Col. 1:19–20). Contrary to Hellenistic conceptions of redemption, which expect redemption from the body, Paul expects redemption of the body. God’s eschatological redemption is universal; it restores the relationship between creation and the Creator (Col. 1:21–23; Eph. 1:7–10).

The act of repudiating sin and returning to God. Implicit in this is sorrow over the evil that one has committed and a complete turnabout in one’s spiritual direction: turning from idols—anything that wrests away the affection that we owe God—to God (1 Sam. 7:3; 2 Chron. 7:14; Isa. 55:6; 1 Thess. 1:9; James 4:8–10).

Terminology. Two Hebrew word groups are associated with the concept of repentance: nakham and shub. Nakham means “to pant, sigh, groan, howl.” When used with respect to the circumstances of others and the feeling of sympathy that they engender, it refers to compassion. When used in reference to feelings generated by one’s own actions, it means “grief” or “remorse.” In this regard, nakham predominantly has God as the subject. The KJV translates it about forty times as “repent.” While one of the senses of nakham is that of grief over one’s actions, those actions are ethically neutral: it does not presuppose that they are inherently evil. The NIV is correct, therefore, in never translating nakham as “repent” where God is the subject. In most cases where God is its subject, the term highlights God’s compassion and comfort for the afflicted (Isa. 40:1–2; 49:13), or his grief over the dire consequences brought upon or intended for the disobedient and his subsequent commutation of their punishment (Exod. 32:12–14; Judg. 2:18; 2 Sam. 24:16; Jon. 3:10), or his grief over human self-ruinous obstinacy (Gen. 6:6–7; 1 Sam. 15:11). Even in the few cases where nakham has human subjects, it need not always be rendered “repent,” their concern for change of heart notwithstanding (cf. Exod. 13:17; Judg. 21:6).

The concept of repentance is better conveyed by the Hebrew verb shub (“to turn, return back, restore, reverse, bring back”) or its noun form in rabbinic Judaism, teshubah (“repentance”). While shub has many nonreligious uses, its theological significance derives from the sense of either “turning away from God” (apostasy [cf. Hos. 11:7; Jer. 11:10]) or “turning to God” (repentance [cf. 1 Sam. 7:3–4; Hos. 14:1]). Our concern is with the latter sense, which normally would be followed by God’s return to his people (Zech. 1:3; Mal. 3:7).

In the OT, shub is central to the concept of repentance. It is the key term employed in the entreaty to God’s people to return to him (2 Chron. 30:6; Isa. 44:22; Ezek. 14:6). The outward signs of repentance in the OT include fasting, mourning (sometimes while sitting in dust or pouring ashes or dust upon one’s head), rending garments, wearing sackcloth, and offering sacrifices (Lev. 5:5–12; 2 Kings 22:11, 19; Neh. 9:1; Joel 2:12–17). The Israelites became so preoccupied with these outward forms that God told them repeatedly that he no longer had interest in them, but rather sought contrition of the heart (Ps. 34:18; Isa. 1:10–16; 58; 66:2; Joel 2:13).

In the NT, the dominant terms used for repentance are the verb metanoeō and the cognate noun metanoia; the overwhelming majority of these occur in Luke-Acts. These terms are used to express the complete turnaround in one’s way of life, including conversion, faith, and regeneration (Acts 2:28; 3:19; 5:31; 20:21). Occasionally these two terms are complemented by epistrephō to stress the positive side of repentance, that of turning from sin or idols to God (Acts 9:35; 11:21; 26:20).

Elements of repentance. The constituent elements of biblical repentance include the following: (1) A recognition of one’s sin, its damaging effects on life and nature, its affront to God’s word and authority, and its dire consequences (Ezek. 18:4; Rom. 3:23; 8:19–22; Rev. 21:8). (2) Personal outrage and remorse over one’s sin, grief at one’s helplessness, and a deep longing for forgiveness, reconciliation, and restoration. (3) A personal response to God’s grace in choosing a new spiritual direction by breaking with the past and returning to God. This includes confession and renunciation of sin, and prayer for God’s forgiveness (Lev. 5:5; Prov. 28:13; 1 John 1:9). (4) In some circumstances, repentance may require restitution (Exod. 22:1–15; 1 Sam. 12:3; 2 Sam. 12:6; Luke 19:8). (5) At its core, repentance is a rejection of the autonomous life and the surrender of oneself to the lordship of Christ (Jer. 3:22; Mark 8:34–38). (6) The proof of true repentance is the worthy fruit of a changed life (Luke 3:7–14; Eph. 4:17–32; Col. 1:10).

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

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

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

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

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

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).

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