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

A large peninsula lying between the Red Sea on the west and the Persian Gulf on the east. In the Bible the term is actually seldom used (2 Chron. 9:14; Isa. 21:13; Jer. 25:24; Ezek. 27:21; 30:5; Gal. 1:17; 4:25), and when it is, it refers more to the general area than to any specific group of people or geographic location. It seems to stand as a designation for that expanse of land that lies to the south and east of Canaan and the Transjordan peoples. On several occasions the term “Arabs” is used to designate the people from those regions (2 Chron. 17:11; 21:16; 22:1; 26:7; Neh. 4:7; Acts 2:11). Elsewhere they are referred to as “eastern peoples” (Gen. 29:1; Judg. 6:3, 33; 7:12; 8:10) or “people of the East” (1 Kings 4:30; Job 1:3; Jer. 49:28; Ezek. 25:4; 25:10). In Gen. 25:6 Arabia is referred to as the “land of the east,” and in Isa. 2:6 simply as “the East” (although this may refer simply to Syria and Mesopotamia).

Clearly, Arabia is a presence in the Scripture, although its role is not nearly as dominant or even as clear as that of other nations or regions, whether superpowers such as Babylon, Assyria, and Egypt or lesser nations such as the Am­mon­ites or the various Canaanite peoples. Still, the importance of Arabia should not be overlooked.

Like many other peoples in the OT, how these people are evaluated by biblical writers is diverse, which is compounded by the fact that the various referents for “Arabs” or “Arabia” can only really be determined, if at all, from a close examination of the context. Nevertheless, we see that “all the kings of Arabia and the governors of the territories” gave gifts to Solomon (2 Chron. 9:14). The Arabs are also said to bring tribute to Jehoshaphat (17:11). Elsewhere in the historical books their relationship with the Israelites is more hostile (e.g., 2 Chron. 21:16; 22:1; Neh. 4:7).

Neither do they escape the attention of the prophets. In Isa. 21:13–16 their troubles are predicted at the hands of other nations (notably the Babylonians and the Assyrians, both of whom waged battles at later points in Israel’s history). Isaiah also refers to Dedanites and Kedar, the first being an Arabian tribe and the second a home of Bedouin tribes. Both references assume their nomadic lifestyle. According to Jer. 25:24, they will be among many nations who will drink of the cup of God’s wrath. According to Ezek. 30:5, Arabia will fall by the sword (Nebuchadnezzar’s) as one of several allies of Egypt.

In the NT, Arabs were among those present at Pentecost (Acts 2:11). After his conversion Paul journeyed to Arabia (Gal. 1:17), by which is meant the Nabatean kingdom, stretching from the Transjordan southwest toward the Sinai Peninsula. Interestingly, Paul’s reference to Mount Sinai as being in Arabia (Gal. 4:25) may suggest a location other than the traditional one of the Sinai Peninsula—for example, across the Gulf of Aqaba (the eastern arm of the Red Sea) in or near Midian (see Exod. 2:11–3:3)—although there is no consensus on this matter.

Brotherhood and Israelite Identity

Ancient Israelite society was fundamentally organized along the lines of kinship and family. As a result, relations among brothers figure prominently in the biblical construction of Israelite identity, which is conceptualized through a series of fraternal relationships, often rife with conflict: Isaac and Ishmael; Jacob and Esau; and the twelve sons of Jacob, among whom the relationship between Joseph and his brothers is pivotal in the history of Israel. Long after the lifetimes of the patriarchs, the Israelites continued to understand the structure of their society and the relationships between its constituent tribes as a complex of fraternal relationships. The patriarchal stories of Genesis were a mirror of later social and political realities. If the sibling rivalries of antiquity explained competition between later social groups, the memory of the brotherhood of those groups also provided a basis for solidarity both within Israel (“You may not put a foreigner over you, who is not your brother” [Deut. 17:15 ESV]) and with near neighbors (“You shall not abhor an Edomite, for he is your brother” [Deut. 23:7 ESV]). Similarly, the fraternal relationship between Moses and Aaron endured in later Israelite society as a model for synthesizing distinct strands of the religion into a coherent whole.

For later Israelite readers of the Bible, the brotherly relationships of Genesis and Exodus were not simply stories about dead ancestors; rather, they provided a compelling account of the organization of Israelite society as they knew it (see Zech. 11:14) and of the relationship between Israel and its neighbors, several of which were descended from the brothers of the Israelite patriarchs (see Ps. 83:6; Amos 1:11; Obad. 10; Mal. 1:2–4). Even though Hiram and Solomon did not trace their relationship back to a common ancestor, they extended the language of the brother alliance to their own (1 Kings 9:12–13).

Biblical literature cultivates a predilection for the underdog, elevating a long series of younger, disadvantaged brothers: the heroes of Israel included Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Gideon (Judg. 6:15), and David (1 Sam. 16:11).

The brother’s wife represented a special case. Sexual relations with a brother’s wife were strictly forbidden (Lev. 18:16; 20:21; see also Mark 6:18), but under certain circumstances one was compelled to marry a brother’s widow (Deut. 25:5–9; see variations of this practice in Gen. 38:8; Ruth 4:5–6). This custom underlay a question that Jesus was asked concerning seven brothers, each of whom died, repeatedly widowing the same woman (Matt. 22:24; Mark 6:17; Luke 14:26).

Brothers in the New Testament

Among Jesus’ twelve disciples were several pairs of brothers, including Peter and Andrew (Mark 1:16 pars.) and James and John the sons of Zebedee (Mark 1:19). Jesus himself had brothers (Mark 3:31–35; John 7:3–5; Acts 1:14), including James, Joseph, Simon, and Judas (Mark 6:3; see also Gal. 1:19).

In addition to the story of seven brothers mentioned above, several of Jesus’ teachings drew illustrations from the relationship of brothers, including the stories of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11–32) and of the rich man and Lazarus (see Luke 16:28). Jesus singled out the belittling of a brother as a particularly heinous sin (Matt. 5:22). In the Sermon on the Mount and elsewhere, “brother” stands not only for a literal brother but also more generally for one’s fellow human.

In light of the OT conception of Israel as a nation of brothers (see Deut. 17:15 and the discussion above), it is not surprising that Jesus and the NT authors adopted the language of brotherhood to describe the Christian community. The “brotherhood of believers” (1 Pet. 2:17 NIV 1984) derives from the common brotherhood of Christians with Christ himself. Brotherhood with Christ depends not on physical descent but on a shared commitment to obedience to God (Matt. 12:50; 23:8), and this loyalty is deeper than that of the literal family, such that it can turn “brother against brother” (Mark 13:12).

The predominant form of address in the NT Epistles is “brothers,” and in Acts the Christians are most commonly designated as “the brothers.” Paul also refers to fellow Jews, including non-Christians, as his “brothers” (Acts 22:1; Rom. 9:3 ESV). See also Brotherly Love.

A Roman province located in the southeast of modern-day Turkey. Its capital was Tarsus, home of Paul (Acts 21:39; 22:3). Jews from Cilicia participated in the stoning of Stephen (Acts 6:9). The province of Cilicia is often mentioned in the NT as Paul traveled on his journeys (Acts 15:23, 41; 23:34; 27:5; Gal. 1:21). Due to his ministry there, Cilicia became a major center for Gentile Christians.

The province acted as a bridge between Syria and Asia Minor. Cilicia is divided into the mountainous region in the western half and the plains region in the east. The Cilician Pass through the Taurus Mountains allowed access between Asia Minor and Syria. The fertile plain and the abundance of metal in the mountains made this province one of economic importance.

The area was annexed as part of the Roman Empire in 67 BC by Pompey. During the NT period the two halves of Cilicia were split, the mountainous region belonging to Antiochus IV and the western plains to the province of Syria. Vespasian united the two areas in AD 72. There was a significant Jewish population here beginning in the second century BC after two thousand families were moved to Asia Minor by Antiochus the Great.

In the KJV the word “conversation” appears often, carrying the archaic meaning “conduct, behavior, way of life,” usually translating the Hebrew word derek or the Greek word anastrophē (e.g., Pss. 37:14; 50:23; Gal. 1:13; Eph. 4:22; 1 Tim. 4:12; 1 Pet. 1:15). In Phil. 3:20 it refers to “citizenship” in heaven, translating the Greek word politeuma (which involves one’s conduct with proper regard for obligations to others in community).

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

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

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

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

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

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

A major city in ancient Syria (Aram) and the capital of modern Syria. Damascus is located fifty miles inland from the Mediterranean, east of the Anti-Lebanon mountains, northeast of Mount Hermon, and west of the Syrian Desert. It sits on a well-watered plateau 2,200 feet above sea level, near the Ghouta oasis and the Barada River (biblical Abana). Strategically located on main trade routes from Egypt, Arabia, and Mesopotamia, Damascus is considered one of the oldest continuously occupied cities in the Near East. Because the site of the ancient city lies under the modern “Old City,” few archaeological excavations have been carried out, and no remains prior to the Roman period have been found. However, some Roman columns still stand along Straight Street (likely the same street mentioned in Acts 9:11), and remains of a Roman arch and gateway, a temple of Jupiter Damascenus, and several Greek inscriptions have been identified.

Although no information about ancient Damascus has yet been provided by archaeological excavations, much can be learned about the city from its mention in historical sources from neighboring cultures. Probably the earliest reference to Damascus is in a list of cities whose kings were defeated by Thutmose III at Megiddo (c. 1482 BC). Damascus is also mentioned in the Amarna letters as a town of the land of Upi, in connection with a Hittite attempt to gain control of the area from Egyptian domination (fourteenth century BC). The city is first mentioned in the Bible when Abraham’s pursuit of four kings who kidnapped Lot took him past Damascus to Hobah (Gen. 14:15). Damascus is also noted as the hometown of Abraham’s servant Eliezer (15:2).

Old Testament Narrative and Prophetic Literature

During the Iron Age (1200–586 BC), Damascus became a prominent Aramean city-state that played a significant role in the political events of Israel’s united and divided monarchies, and in this light it receives frequent mention in OT narrative and prophetic literature.

Narrative literature. During the united monarchy, David incorporated Damascus into his kingdom after the Arameans from the city unsuccessfully came to the aid of Hadadezer of Zobah and were defeated by David in battle (2 Sam. 8:5–6; 1 Chron. 18:5–6). Later, Solomon’s adversary Rezon son of Eliada, who had served under Hadadezer of Zobah, gathered a band of rebels, went to Damascus, and took control of the city (1 Kings 11:23–25).

After the division of the kingdom around 928 BC, little is known of Damascus until the biblical report that Asa of Judah appealed to Ben-Hadad I in Damascus for help in his war against Baasha of Israel. When Asa sent gifts of silver and gold and proposed a treaty, Ben-Hadad I (also known as Bir-Hadad I) complied with Asa’s request and sent his army to attack Israel’s northern cities (1 Kings 15:16–22; 2 Chron. 16:2).

In 853 BC the Assyrian king Shalmaneser III tried to invade Syria and was met north of Damascus at Qarqar by a coalition of twelve states led by Ben-Hadad II of Damascus (also known as Hadadezer or Adad-idri). Although Shalmaneser’s Monolith Inscription reports that he was victorious, the fact that he was unable to advance farther into Syria and that he returned immediately homeward likely indicates that the coalition successfully repelled him. According to the Monolith Inscription, Ahab of Israel was a member of this coalition.

Additional contacts between Ahab and Ben-Hadad II of Damascus are recounted in 1 Kings 20; 22. Chapter 20 notes that Ben-Hadad II gathered a coalition of thirty-two kings to besiege Samaria, but Ahab was able to defeat them. A second encounter left Ben-Hadad II requesting Ahab’s mercy, offering to restore previously captured Israelite towns and to give Ahab access to Damascus. A third engagement pitted Ahab of Israel and Jehoshaphat of Judah against the Arameans at Ramoth Gilead and resulted in Ahab’s death. However, some scholars identify the Ben-Hadad referred to in these chapters (as well as in 2 Kings 5–7) as Ben-Hadad III and place these events during the time of Jehoash of Israel rather than during Ahab’s reign.

During and after Ahab’s reign, both Elijah and Elisha became involved in the political affairs of Damascus. Elijah traveled to Damascus after his encounter with God at Horeb in order to anoint Hazael as future king of Aram (1 Kings 19:15). Later, Ben-Hadad II, informed of Elisha’s presence in Damascus, sent his servant Hazael to inquire whether he would recover from an illness. However, Elisha used the opportunity to reluctantly predict Hazael’s rise to kingship in Aram (2 Kings 8:7–15).

When he did rule as king (c. 842–806 BC), Hazael successfully expanded his empire into the territories of Israel and Judah during the reigns of Joram (2 Kings 8:28–29; 9:14–15), Jehu (10:32–33), and Jehoahaz of Israel (13:1–9), as well as Joash of Judah, who paid tribute to Damascus (12:17–18; cf. 2 Chron. 24:23).

After Hazael’s death the kingdom of Aram, ruled by his son Ben-Hadad III (also known as Bir-Hadad), no longer remained the dominant power of the region. Jehoash of Israel was able to recapture Israelite territory (2 Kings 13:25), and the Assyrian king Adad-nirari III besieged Damascus and made the king pay tribute (c. 796 BC). Aram’s weakened state was also apparent during the reign of Jeroboam II of Israel, who expanded Israel’s border back to Damascus (2 Kings 14:28).

Rezin, Aram’s last king (c. 740–732 BC), formed a coalition that included Pekah of Israel to fight Tiglath-pileser III of Assyria. When Rezin and Pekah attacked Ahaz of Judah and tried to replace him with a procoalition puppet named “Tabeel” (Isa. 7:6), Ahaz appealed to Assyria for help by sending gifts. Tiglath-pileser III complied with Ahaz’s requests and attacked Damascus, deporting its inhabitants, putting Rezin to death, and annexing Aram into the Assyrian Empire (2 Kings 16:5–9). Although Damascus, with several surrounding cities, did attempt to rebel against Assyria in 720 BC, Sargon II was able to defeat them. From that point on, Damascus remained under control of the Assyrians, then the Babylonians, and then served as a provincial capital under the Persians.

Prophetic literature. In light of the significant involvement of Damascus in international affairs during the period of the divided monarchies, it is not surprising to find frequent mention of the city in the prophetic literature. Amos, for example, proclaims judgment against the rulers of Damascus for their brutality and predicts exile for the city’s inhabitants in the first of his oracles against the nations (Amos 1:3–5). Isaiah also speaks of Damascus, assuring Ahaz that the plot by Rezin and Pekah to overthrow Jerusalem would not be successful, and that Damascus would soon be conquered by Assyria (Isa. 7–8; 17:1–3). Jeremiah’s oracle against Damascus may also refer to these events, since what Jeremiah describes is not known to have taken place during his lifetime (Jer. 49:23–27). Ezekiel notes, in passing, Damascus as a customer of the wares of Tyre and in connection with the description of Israel’s future boundaries (Ezek. 27:18; 47:16–18; 48:1). Finally, Zechariah includes Damascus in his oracle concerning some of the city-states in Syria-Palestine (Zech. 9:1).

Hellenistic Period and New Testament

During the Hellenistic period (322–37 BC), Damascus was conquered by Parmenio, a general under Alexander the Great, and then it came under the rule of Seleucus I Nicator. Control over the city fluctuated during the conflicts between the Seleucids and the Ptolemies, and in 63 BC General Pompey annexed the area for Rome, although he allowed the Nabateans to control the city.

Damascus is notable in the NT as the city to which Paul (then Saul) was traveling to persecute Christians when he encountered the risen Christ. After his conversion Paul stayed in Damascus until he had to escape the city by night because Jews were plotting to kill him (Acts 9:1–27; 22:3–16; 26:12–23; 2 Cor. 11:32–33). Paul also visited Damascus after his journey to Arabia (Gal. 1:17).

Grace is the nucleus, the critical core element, of the redemptive and sanctifying work of the triune God detailed throughout the entire canon of Scripture. The variegated expressions of grace are rooted in the person and work of God, so that his graciousness and favor effectively demonstrated in every aspect of the created realm glorify him as they are shared and enjoyed with one another.

The biblical terminology informing an understanding of grace defines it as a gift or a favorable reaction or disposition toward someone. Grace is generosity, thanks, and goodwill between humans and from God to humans. Divine expressions of grace are loving, merciful, and effective. The biblical texts provide a context for a more robust understanding of divine gift. The overall redemptive-historical context of grace is the desire of the eternal God to bring glory to himself through a grace-based relationship with his creation. The Creator-Redeemer gives grace, and the recipients of grace give him glory.

Old Testament

Genesis. The grace of the creation narratives is summarized with the repeated use of the term “good” (Gen. 1:4, 10, 12, 18, 21, 25, 31). God is good, and he made a good creation with abundant gifts for Adam and Eve to enjoy. When Adam and Eve rebelled against God, he righteously judged and graciously provided for an ongoing relationship. God clothed the naked Adam and Eve (3:21) and announced that the seed of the woman would yield a redeemer (3:15).

Grace in the postcreation narratives (Gen. 4–6) is focused on individuals. God looked with favor on Abel and his offering (4:4), and Noah found grace in God’s eyes (6:8). God looked at and had regard for the offering of Abel (Gen. 4). Jacob confessed to Esau that God graced him with descendants and with possessions (33:5).

Grace and graciousness also characterize interaction between individuals. The Jacob and Esau exchange uses grace vocabulary for the gift and the disposition of grace. Jacob invited Esau to accept his gift if he had a favorable disposition toward him (Gen. 33:11). The covenant son Joseph received favorable treatment from the prison warden because of his disposition toward him (39:21).

Exodus. The exodus narrative recounts how the seed of Abraham multiplies, is redeemed, and then is given the law, which defines the relationship of God to Israel. All these events are tied to the gracious promises that God made to Abraham and his descendants (Gen. 12; 15; 17; see also Gen. 21; 27).

The grace associated with the redemption of Israel from Egypt is celebrated in the song of Exod. 15. God’s victory over the Egyptian army and his covenant fidelity to the patriarchs are the song’s themes. Moses and the Israelites sing because God heard Israel’s groaning; he remembered his covenant with Abraham and looked on Israel with concern (2:24). God made Egypt favorably disposed toward Israel (3:21) and parted the sea for Israel to escape (11:3; 12:36). The confession “He is my God . . . my father’s God” ties together major sections of redemptive history and affirms the constancy of God’s grace throughout the periods (15:2). God’s tenacious covenant loyalty (khesed) to the nation and his covenant grace (15:13) to Israel cannot be merited.

The giving of the law in Exod. 20 is prefaced by a gracious and powerful presentation of God to the nation in Exod. 19. In the organization and development of Exod. 19–20, grace themes emerge. The grace associated with redemption and covenant life is marked in Exod. 19. God took Israel from Egyptian bondage, redeemed it, and brought the nation to himself (19:4). Through this action, the nation will become a special treasure, a holy nation, a kingdom of priests (19:5–6). In sum, Israel exists because God created, loved, and redeemed it.

Second, the Decalogue of Exod. 20 follows upon the redemption effected by God, defining how Israel will relate to its God. In this sense, law is viewed as a gift that expresses the divine will. When compared and contrasted with ancient Near Eastern laws, Torah reflects the grace of God’s character and his genuine concern for the poor, slaves, aliens, and widows. In addition, there is a grace ethic that motivates obedience to the law. The motivational statements in the Decalogue in Exod. 20 relate to the grace of redemption (v. 2), the righteousness of God (vv. 4–7), the creation work of God (vv. 8–11), and long life (v. 12).

Exodus 32–34 is a key passage that links the covenant with grace terminology. This section begins with the story of the golden calf (chap. 32) and ends with the account of Moses’ radiant face (34:29–35). The grace terminology is observed in 33:19; 34:6–7. The context of 33:19 involves Moses meeting with God face-to-face. According to 33:12–17, Moses wanted to know who would be left after the purge of 33:5. He acknowledged God’s favor in his life and wondered who else might enjoy it. Moses reminded God that the nation was his people (33:13). The grace of this account is God’s assurance of his presence with Israel and the unmerited purposeful expression of his grace.

Exodus 34:6–7 employs a series of adjectives in a grace confessional statement. This statement arises out of God’s instructions to Moses to cut two new tablets of stone like the first ones (34:1; see also 24:12), which were broken after the incident of the golden calf (32:19). God descended in a cloud, stood with Moses, and proclaimed his name to him (34:5). The rhetoric of the passage emphasizes the speech of God, who defines himself in connection with covenant making. God is merciful and gracious, long-suffering, and distinguished by steadfast love.

Grace and covenant loyalty. These key passages are foundational for understanding the grace and steadfast loyalty of God expressed in the subsequent events of covenant history. Grace and khesed are expressed in connection with covenant curse implementation (Num. 14:18; Hos. 4:1; 6:4, 6), in the overall structure of Deuteronomy (5:10; 7:9, 12), in the Davidic covenant (2 Sam. 7:15; 1 Chron. 17:13), in the future hope of Israel (Isa. 54:8), in restoration (Jer. 32:18), in the new covenant (Jer. 31:31), and in exile (Dan. 9:4).

To round out the OT discussion, we may note that covenant siblings were to be gracious and loyal in their ongoing relationships with one another. The book of Ruth illustrates covenant grace in action (2:2, 10, 13). In addition, grace is to be expressed toward the poor (Prov. 28:8), the young and the old (Deut. 28:50), and those who suffer (Job 19:21).

New Testament

The NT focus of grace is developed in keeping with the foundation laid in the OT. The triune God is the center and source of grace: it is the grace of God (Rom. 1:7), the Spirit of grace (Heb. 10:29), and the grace of Christ (John 1:17). The grace of God revealed in the OT is unveiled uniquely in the person and work of Christ.

The Gospel of John. The canonical development of the grace theme between the Testaments is explained in the opening chapter of John’s Gospel. Jesus Christ is the Word, who was with God, who is God, and who created the world (John 1:1–3). Christ then became flesh and dwelled among us (1:14). In doing so, he made known the glory of God to us. At this point in the development of chapter 1, John connects Christ (the Word) with the adjectives describing God in Exod. 34:6 to affirm that Christ has the very same virtues that God has. The assertion in John 1:17 that Jesus is full of grace and truth parallels the statement in Exod. 34:6 of God’s steadfast love and faithfulness. In Christ we are able to see the glory that Moses hoped to see in God (John 1:18). Christ is both the message and the messenger of grace and truth.

The Epistles and Acts. The NT Epistles develop the “full of grace and truth” statement about Christ (John 1:14) in several ways. The grace and truth found in Christ are given to his servants (1 Cor. 1:4) and are a reason for praise (2 Cor. 8:9; Gal. 1:6, 15; Eph. 4:7; 1 Tim. 1:2; 2 Tim. 2:1). This grace from Christ is effective in bringing about redemption and sustaining a life of godliness. Ephesians 2:8–9 is the classic statement affirming that God’s favor is the source of salvation. Paul makes this point by repeating “it is by grace” in 2:5, 8 and clarifying the grace of salvation with the “it is the gift of God” statement in 2:8. This design of salvation celebrates the incomparable riches of Christ’s grace and the expression of his kindness to us (cf. Eph. 1:7). Salvation is devoid of human merit, gifts, or favor (2:8). Keeping the law as a means of entrance into a relationship with God and as a means of gaining favor with God is antithetical to the nature of grace. God’s favor expressed to people in salvation is an expression of his sovereign will.

Romans 5 declares many of the same themes found in Eph. 2. In Rom. 5 Paul contrasts the action and result of Adam’s transgression with the obedience of Christ. Salvation is God’s grace and gift brought by the grace of one man, Jesus Christ (v. 15). The gift and grace of Christ brought about justification.

The effective operation of God’s grace in salvation is illustrated in the historical narratives of Acts. The men involved in the heated debate of the Jerusalem council (Acts 15:2) affirmed the salvation of the Gentiles by grace after hearing the report of Barnabas and Paul (15:12). Those in Achaia (18:27) are another illustration of an effective operation of grace.

The grace of God that saves is also the grace that sanctifies. Titus 2:11 declares that redemptive grace instructs the redeemed to say no to a life of ungodliness. The instructional nature of grace is highlighted in the development of the Titus 2 context. The teacher in 2:1–10, 15 is Titus, who is to nurture godly people. There is a change of instructors in 2:11, with grace now teaching. Redemptive grace works in harmony with sanctifying grace to provide for godly living.

According to Titus 3:8, those who trust in the generosity of God’s grace should devote themselves to doing what is good. By God’s grace, justified sinners will find their delight and satisfaction in the promises of God for a life of persevering godliness.

Grace also functions as an enablement for life and ministry. Paul often rehearses this feature of grace in his letters. In Rom. 1:5 Paul testifies about the grace associated with a commission to be an apostle. When reflecting on his role in the church, he affirms that by God’s grace he has been able to lay a foundation (1 Cor. 3:10). Paul’s testimony in 1 Cor. 15:10 demonstrates the essential role of grace in making him who he is and effectively enabling what he does. Giving is also viewed as an exercise of grace (2 Cor. 8:7) reflecting the grace received by individual believers. This gift of grace for life and ministry is somehow recognizable. Peter, James, and John recognized it in Paul (Gal. 2:9). It was upon the apostles (Acts 4:33), and it was seen in the church of Antioch (11:23).

Given the source and the effective nature of grace, one can understand the appropriateness of appealing to grace in greetings and salutations (Rom. 1:7; 16:20; Gal. 1:3; 6:18).

Common grace. Finally, grace does operate beyond the context of the elect and the work of salvation and sanctification. Theologians define this as “common grace.” God’s sending rain and giving creatures intellectual and artistic abilities are expressions of common grace.

The name “James” is a form of the name “Jacob” (Heb. Ya’aqob; Gk. Iakōbos), which was very popular in the first century. In the NT there are five individuals named “James.”

(1) James the son of Zebedee and the older brother of John. He was martyred by Herod Agrippa I in AD 40 (Mark 1:19; 3:17; Acts 12:2). Eusebius records a tradition from Clement of Alexandria that the individual who brought James before Herod was so moved by James’s testimony that he converted on the spot and was martyred along with James (Hist. eccl. 2.9).

(2) James the son of Alphaeus we know very little about other than that he is consistently listed among the disciples (Mark 3:18; Matt. 10:3; Luke 6:15; Acts 1:13).

(3) James “the younger” (Mark 15:40), whose mother, named “Mary,” appears in Mark 16:1 just as the “mother of James.” In church tradition, he is sometimes identified with James the son of Alphaeus.

(4) James the father of Judas (Luke 6:16; Acts 1:13) is mentioned only to distinguish this Judas from Judas Iscariot.

(5) James the brother of Jesus was an early leader of the Jerusalem church (Matt. 13:55; Mark 6:3; Acts 12:17; 15:13–31; 21:18; 1 Cor. 15:7; Gal. 1:19; 2:9, 12; Jude 1). A number of Jesus’ family members became prominent leaders in the early Christian movement in Palestine, James being the most prominent.

Although he was not one of the twelve disciples and likely did not accept Jesus as the Messiah until after the resurrection (cf. John 7:5; Acts 1:14), James quickly emerged as a key leader in the Jerusalem church, where he served until his death in AD 62. Because the Jerusalem church was the parent of all churches and thus granted a central authority by early Christians, James played an important role by giving leadership and direction to the movement. According to Paul’s account, Jesus singled James out following the resurrection (1 Cor. 15:7), and in Luke’s narrative James is described as the leader of the church (Acts 12:17; 15:13; 21:18)—a depiction confirmed by Paul’s description of James as one of the three “pillars” of the church in Jerusalem (Gal. 2:9). During Paul’s first visit to Jerusalem, James’s standing was such that Paul felt it necessary to name him along with Peter as having seen him there (Gal. 1:19).

From the influential position of leadership in the Jerusalem church, James wrote two letters that shaped the contours of early Christian life. According to Luke, after the pivotal meeting and decision regarding circumcision in Acts 15, James, along with the “apostles and elders” (Acts 15:23), wrote to the Gentile believers to inform them that they would not have to follow the practice of circumcision in order to become followers of Jesus Christ. During the negotiations James provided a key exegetical argument from the OT (Amos 9:11–12 and Jer. 12:15, recorded in Acts 15:16–17) advocating the inclusion of Gentiles in the church. In the Letter of James, he wrote from this position of central authority in Jerusalem to Jewish Christians throughout the Diaspora. Here James again demonstrates his exceptional abilities as an interpreter of the OT regarding Jewish legal (Lev. 19) and wisdom (Prov. 3:34) traditions through the lens of Christ in order to call his readers to wholehearted living.

Memories of James were preserved well into the second century because he was viewed as the model of a pious person. Eusebius cites Hegesippus, a second-century Jewish believer from Jerusalem, who recounts how James was so often found kneeling in prayer for the people that his knees grew hard like a camel’s, and that “because of his unsurpassable righteousness” he was called “the Just” (Hist. eccl. 2.23.4–7). The same passage records that because of his confession of Christ before the Jews, James was thrown from the parapet of the temple, stoned, and finally killed by a blow from a fuller’s club (Hist. eccl. 2.23.16–18). In addition to these traditions there is a substantial body of apocryphal Christian writings composed in the name of James by individuals during the second and third centuries. These, mainly gnostic, texts promote an almost legendary man of piety and ascetic lifestyle (e.g., First Apocalypse of James, Second Apocalypse of James, Apocryphon of James).

Jesus’ brothers are mentioned several times in the Gospels, Acts, and the Pauline Epistles. In Mark 6:3 (see also Matt. 13:55–56) four brothers are named, and sisters are mentioned, though the name or number of sisters is not given. The people of Nazareth are offended by Jesus’ preaching in the synagogue and express surprise that Jesus, given the dramatic claims that he has made about himself in his sermon there (see Luke 4:16–30), is the son and brother of local villagers (Mary and her sons James, Joses [named “Joseph” in Matthew], Judas, and Simon). In the crucifixion scene in Mark, one of the women present is identified as “Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joseph [NIV mg.: “Greek Joses”]” (Mark 15:40). It is unlikely, however, that this is Jesus’ mother and brothers, since it would be strange to identify Mary as the mother of these two lesser-known siblings rather than of Jesus himself.

In Mark 3:32–35 Jesus redefines what it means to be his brother, sister, or mother in the kingdom of God in response to being notified that his earthly mother and brothers, who at this point in time did not understand his mission (see 3:21), are waiting for him outside the house in Capernaum. Although Mary and Jesus’ brothers appear to have traveled around Galilee with him (see John 2:12), John’s Gospel makes explicit the brothers’ unbelief (7:2–10), which is only implicit in Matthew and Mark. Acts 1:14 shows the dramatic reversal that has taken place in the response to Jesus by his brothers after the resurrection. Mary and Jesus’ brothers are gathered together with the entire body of Jesus’ disciples in prayer, fellowship, and teaching.

James (apparently Jesus’ oldest sibling) became a key leader in the Jerusalem church (Acts 12:17; 21:18) and pronounced the decision at the Jerusalem council (Acts 15:13). He is also traditionally identified as the author of the NT letter that bears his name (James 1:1). Another NT letter may also have been penned by a brother of Jesus, since Jude identifies himself as “a brother of James” (Jude 1), a probable reference to this same James.

In 1 Cor. 9:5 Paul argues (through a rhetorical question) that Christian missionaries have the right to take “a believing wife” along with them in their work, just as the other apostles and Jesus’ brothers had done. Finally, while recounting his first trip to Jerusalem after his conversion, Paul mentions a meeting with James, “the Lord’s brother” (Gal. 1:19).

According to the Jewish historian Josephus, Jesus’ brother James died a martyr’s death at the hands of the Jewish high priest Ananus (Ant. 20.197–200).

The English word “tradition” refers both to a process of transmitting information from generation to generation and to the content that is thus transmitted. Tradition can be oral or written, and in the context of theology and biblical studies it constitutes a form of religious authority and a means of legitimating customs and beliefs. Much of the biblical data concerning tradition, which comes primarily from the NT, is connected with the verbal notion of “passing (something) on” or, conversely, “receiving (something).” There is also a noun meaning “tradition.” The writings of the NT are neither for nor against traditional authority per se as a form of religious authority, but instead display a range of attitudes toward tradition and traditions.

Jesus’ Critique of Jewish Tradition

On one occasion, Jesus sharply rebuked the Pharisees and teachers of the law for “setting aside the commands of God in order to observe your own traditions” (Mark 7:9 [cf. Matt. 15:1–20]). The context of this remark is a dispute between Jesus and his interlocutors that arose when Jesus’ disciples were observed eating with unwashed hands. According to the Pharisees (as reported by Matthew and Mark), this requirement was a “tradition of the elders” (Mark 7:5). Jesus, however, distinguished between human traditions and the word of God, and he accused the Pharisees of adhering to the former even when this conflicted with observance of the latter. Later written rabbinic sources posited two streams of normative tradition, both going back to Moses and Mount Sinai: the written law and the oral law. This distinction, or one like it, may lie behind Jesus’ dispute with the Pharisees and the teachers of the law. It is important to note that Jesus’ criticism of tradition is not simply formal (i.e., opposition to traditional authority as such) but is substantive, in that the Pharisees were guilty of following traditions that prevented them from observing the commands of Moses: “You nullify the word of God by your tradition that you have handed down. And you do many things like that” (Mark 7:13). The memory of Jesus’ antitraditional posture was later invoked by the opponents of Stephen, who said, “We have heard him say that this Jesus of Nazareth will destroy this place and change the customs Moses handed down to us” (Acts 6:14).

Such a negative view of tradition is also evident in Col. 2:8, where the apostle warns against captivity to “hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world rather than on Christ.” The subsequent discussion elucidates to some extent the content of the traditions that threatened to displace the primary orientation of the believer to life in Christ (2:6–7); these include circumcision “performed by human hands” (2:11), rules about eating, drinking, Sabbaths, and holidays (2:16), and rules of asceticism designed to restrain “sensual indulgence” (2:23). Interestingly, while Jesus set up an antithesis between the traditions of the elders and the law of Moses, Col. 2:14 appears to identify “the charge of our legal indebtedness” with the system that depends on human tradition rather than on Christ.

The situation represented by Col. 2:8–23 (dependence on tradition versus dependence on Christ) finds a similar expression in Paul’s autobiographical account in Gal. 1:11–24. There, Paul assures his audience that the gospel he preached “is not of human origin” (v. 11). Invoking the vocabulary of tradition, he continues, “I did not receive it from any man, nor was I taught it; rather, I received it by revelation from Jesus Christ” (vv. 12–13). Paul goes on to flesh out this antithesis between revelation and tradition, particularly as it applies to his apostolic claims: he is not against religious tradition as such, since he was formerly “zealous for the traditions of my fathers” (v. 14). Nonetheless, the radically nontraditional authority of his gospel is underscored by the fact that he did “not consult any human being” (vv. 16–17, 19). Of course, it is not likely that Paul would desire to undermine tradition per se, as he would himself rely on it as a means of propagating his own gospel. Indeed, he had already warned the Galatians against departing from the tradition that they had accepted from him (1:9) (see the discussion of 1 Cor. 15:1–11 below).

Positive Attitudes toward Tradition

In contrast to Jesus’ critique of the traditions of the elders observed by the Pharisees, a number of NT texts present the transmission of traditions in a positive light. Chief among these is Paul’s discussion in 1 Cor. 15:1–11 of the gospel he preached in Corinth. In this text, he speaks of his own reception of the tradition (“For what I received” [v. 3]), his transmission of the tradition to the Corinthians (“I passed on to you as of first importance” [v. 3]), and the church’s reception of the tradition (“I want to remind you of the gospel . . . which you received” [v. 1]). What follows, the content of the tradition, is a summary of the events of the death and resurrection of Christ according to the Scriptures and his postresurrection manifestation to the apostles, including Paul himself (vv. 3–7). Previously in 1 Corinthians, Paul had commended his audience for their fidelity to tradition: “I praise you for . . . holding to the traditions just as I passed them on to you” (11:2). To return to the discussion of Gal. 1 and Paul’s radical break with tradition: for Paul, the revelation of Christ stood outside the prior stream of tradition in which he had been raised, but subsequently it became a new tradition to be passed on and to be held with as much zeal as the old (see Acts 16:4; Rom. 6:17; 1 Cor. 11:23; Phil. 4:9; 1 Thess. 2:13; 4:1–2; 2 Thess. 2:15; 3:6).

Like Paul, other NT writers appeal to traditional authority as a means of passing on the faith. Jude urges his readers to “contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to God’s holy people” (Jude 3 [cf. 2 Pet. 2:21]). Luke’s credentials as a historian include his faithful transmission of the account of things “just as they were handed down to us by those who from the first were eyewitnesses and servants of the word” (Luke 1:2). Like Paul, Luke asserts the authority of the traditional process while also recognizing that the transmitted tradition had a historical inception in recent memory (in this case, the testimony of eyewitnesses to the life of Jesus). In other words, the appeal is not simply to traditional teaching per se, as if “old” is intrinsically better than “new”; rather, the story of Jesus, as new as it is in history, becomes a matter of tradition once it has occurred and been testified to by eyewitnesses.

Tradition and Protestantism

In broad terms, each of the three great “religions of the book” (Judaism, Christianity, Islam) recognizes theologically normative streams of postscriptural (or extrascriptural) tradition in addition to their sacred books. During the Reformation, Protestant theologians sought to introduce a number of corrections to medieval theology under the banner of a return to “Scripture alone” (sola Scriptura). In response, Catholic theologians asserted the authority of Scripture, tradition, and the magisterium (the teaching of the church). All living traditions, of course, pragmatically rely on multiple forms of religious authority. As a result of this history, “tradition” has come to stand for an illegitimate or at least suspect form of religious authority in some strands of Protestant thought, wherein a radical biblicism is professed in contrast to a celebration of tradition and traditions.

The Bible says that on judgment day, God will evaluate the deeds done during our lifetime (2 Cor. 5:10; Rev. 20:12). God saves us by grace alone, through faith alone, because of what Christ alone has done; nevertheless, our works serve as the evidence or “fruit” of regeneration (Matt. 7:15–27). Works also become God’s standard when the lost are condemned in his heavenly court, since he “will repay each person according to what they have done” and each person has, in fact, sinned (Rom. 2:6; 3:23). But what will God do with young children and the mentally challenged, neither of whom can understand God’s moral law well enough to sin against it or obey it consciously? How will God treat people who could never understand the gospel no matter how clearly an evangelist presents it? The received answer to this question appeals to the idea that we must reach an “age of accountability” before God holds us responsible for our own deeds, and that this age varies with the individual person. But does Scripture endorse this idea?

The parents of miscarried children and those whose children have died at an early age have the greatest emotional stake in the answer to this question. They want to hear that they will see their children again; and the position taken here is that they will, though for a different reason than the one commonly given. Specifically, we must not say that the innocence of these children qualifies them for heaven, because Adam’s corruption affects us all (Rom. 5:12; cf. Pss. 51:5; 58:3). Their inherited depravity could not show itself in overt sins, at least not at a very early age, but Scripture implies that they suffer from it nonetheless. Consequently, as with every case of salvation, the future of children and the mentally handicapped is decided on the basis of God’s grace. They are guilty and stand in need of the cross, as we all do. But would God apply the work of Christ to them by the Spirit before they can function as moral agents and respond consciously to the gospel? A circumstantial case can be made for answering in the affirmative to this question, with this caveat: the argument given applies only to these special cases. It does not encourage the view that unreached sinners are essentially infants in God’s sight and thus justified by similar arrangements.

We begin by noting that God claims some people for his own purposes, even in infancy. He does so in John the Baptist’s case, filling him with the Holy Spirit from his mother’s womb (Luke 1:15). David and Jeremiah also see God’s hand upon them from their earliest days (Ps. 22:10; Jer. 1:5), as does the apostle Paul (Gal. 1:15). At a minimum, these texts show us that God can and, in some cases, has dealt with human beings before they could ever respond consciously to him. David also expects to be personally reunited with his deceased son, saying, “I will go to him, but he will not return to me” (2 Sam. 12:23). A final clue is the response of Jesus to children during the days of his earthly life. He rebukes his disciples for keeping children away from him, saying that God’s kingdom belongs to “such as these” (Matt. 19:14; Mark 10:14; cf. Matt. 18:3). Of course, these episodes are included mainly to show adults what discipleship means, with special reference to humility and self-forgetfulness. In following Jesus, we must care no more for our social status and dignity than young children typically do. Yet one would not do well to argue that Jesus welcomes children into his company merely for illustrative purposes, as if they mean no more to him than handy visual aids. The disciples place children low on their Lord’s list of ministry priorities, and Jesus raises them all the way up. Our answer to this question must be an educated guess, but the safest conclusion seems to be that while children still need the cross, they receive its benefits consistently by other means and thus go to heaven when they die.

The Bible says that on judgment day, God will evaluate the deeds done during our lifetime (2 Cor. 5:10; Rev. 20:12). God saves us by grace alone, through faith alone, because of what Christ alone has done; nevertheless, our works serve as the evidence or “fruit” of regeneration (Matt. 7:15–27). Works also become God’s standard when the lost are condemned in his heavenly court, since he “will repay each person according to what they have done” and each person has, in fact, sinned (Rom. 2:6; 3:23). But what will God do with young children and the mentally challenged, neither of whom can understand God’s moral law well enough to sin against it or obey it consciously? How will God treat people who could never understand the gospel no matter how clearly an evangelist presents it? The received answer to this question appeals to the idea that we must reach an “age of accountability” before God holds us responsible for our own deeds, and that this age varies with the individual person. But does Scripture endorse this idea?

The parents of miscarried children and those whose children have died at an early age have the greatest emotional stake in the answer to this question. They want to hear that they will see their children again; and the position taken here is that they will, though for a different reason than the one commonly given. Specifically, we must not say that the innocence of these children qualifies them for heaven, because Adam’s corruption affects us all (Rom. 5:12; cf. Pss. 51:5; 58:3). Their inherited depravity could not show itself in overt sins, at least not at a very early age, but Scripture implies that they suffer from it nonetheless. Consequently, as with every case of salvation, the future of children and the mentally handicapped is decided on the basis of God’s grace. They are guilty and stand in need of the cross, as we all do. But would God apply the work of Christ to them by the Spirit before they can function as moral agents and respond consciously to the gospel? A circumstantial case can be made for answering in the affirmative to this question, with this caveat: the argument given applies only to these special cases. It does not encourage the view that unreached sinners are essentially infants in God’s sight and thus justified by similar arrangements.

We begin by noting that God claims some people for his own purposes, even in infancy. He does so in John the Baptist’s case, filling him with the Holy Spirit from his mother’s womb (Luke 1:15). David and Jeremiah also see God’s hand upon them from their earliest days (Ps. 22:10; Jer. 1:5), as does the apostle Paul (Gal. 1:15). At a minimum, these texts show us that God can and, in some cases, has dealt with human beings before they could ever respond consciously to him. David also expects to be personally reunited with his deceased son, saying, “I will go to him, but he will not return to me” (2 Sam. 12:23). A final clue is the response of Jesus to children during the days of his earthly life. He rebukes his disciples for keeping children away from him, saying that God’s kingdom belongs to “such as these” (Matt. 19:14; Mark 10:14; cf. Matt. 18:3). Of course, these episodes are included mainly to show adults what discipleship means, with special reference to humility and self-forgetfulness. In following Jesus, we must care no more for our social status and dignity than young children typically do. Yet one would not do well to argue that Jesus welcomes children into his company merely for illustrative purposes, as if they mean no more to him than handy visual aids. The disciples place children low on their Lord’s list of ministry priorities, and Jesus raises them all the way up. Our answer to this question must be an educated guess, but the safest conclusion seems to be that while children still need the cross, they receive its benefits consistently by other means and thus go to heaven when they die.

The first of the Major Prophets in the canon, the book of Isaiah is one of the longest books in the Bible. This, coupled with the NT’s frequent use of Isaiah, has contributed to the book’s great importance in Christian tradition. Isaiah contains some of the most memorable passages in Scripture, with its majestic poetry and evocative sermons making it a literary masterpiece. Nevertheless, it has also been characterized as a difficult book to comprehend and make sense of as a whole because the connections between different paragraphs and sections appear to be haphazard at times and are difficult to understand. However, some knowledge of the way the book was formed can aid in interpretation.

Authorship

The authorship of Isaiah has been one of the most debated issues in biblical interpretation. Ancient tradition credited the eighth-century BC prophet Isaiah with the entire sixty-six chapters. However, an early Jewish tradition in the Talmud claims that “the men of Hezekiah” compiled Isaiah, showing their awareness that the book did not come entirely from Isaiah.

Literary evidence. Isaiah son of Amoz is referred to as author in three sections of the book (1:1; 2:1; 13:1) and is featured in both third-person (chaps. 7; 20; 36–39) and first-person (chaps. 6; 8) narratives. However, chapters 40–66 have no such headings and do not even mention Isaiah. While references to Isaiah as author in specific sections may suggest that he actually did write the whole book, they may also indicate that he did not write sections that are not ascribed to him. Similarly, historical narratives referring to the prophet in the third person may suggest that someone else wrote them, although the intimate information in them (e.g., 7:3) could point to Isaianic authorship.

Another possible indication of multiple authorship is the marked difference in literary style and vocabulary found in different sections of Isaiah. While such judgments are quite subjective, both sides of the authorship debate acknowledge these stylistic differences.

Historical settings. The debate regarding the authorship of Isaiah really centers on the diverse historical settings within different sections of the book. Chapters 1–39 clearly are set during the late eighth century BC, the period when Assyria is threatening Judah. Assyria is frequently mentioned (e.g., 7:17; 8:4; 10:12; 11:11; 19:23; 20:1; 27:13; 36:1), as are Judean kings (e.g., 1:1; 6:1; 7:1; 14:28; 36:1) and the prophet Isaiah himself (e.g., 1:1; 2:1; 13:1; 20:2; 37:5).

In contrast, the historical setting of chapters 40–55 is not eighth-century BC Judah. Israel is described as in captivity and Jerusalem is referred to as ruined and deserted (44:26, 28; 52:9); there is frequent allusion to the sufferings of the exile (42:22, 25; 43:28; 47:6; 51:17; 52:5); and the coming return from exile is described as close at hand (40:2; 46:13; 48:20). Furthermore, in chapters 40–55 Babylon is Israel’s enemy, even though in Isaiah’s day they were allies. Also, Cyrus the Great, the Persian king who conquered Babylon in 539 BC (ending the exile), is mentioned with no introduction or explanation (44:28; 45:1), even though he lived 150 years after Isaiah. In sum, chapters 40–55 appear to be addressed to Judeans in Babylonian exile.

Conversely, chapters 56–66 appear to come from yet another historical period. Unlike in chapters 40–55, where the temple was destroyed and out of operation, in chapters 56–66 the temple (66:6), along with sacrifices (56:7; 66:3), offerings (57:6; 65:3; 66:3), and Sabbaths (56:2; 58:13; 66:23), is referred to. Also, Jerusalem and its walls are standing (62:6), unlike in chapters 40–55, where it is predicted that Jerusalem will be rebuilt (44:26). This seems to indicate that it addresses those who have returned to Jerusalem after the exile.

This evidence suggests that the book of Isaiah was written by several authors from different time periods. Alternatively, these diverse historical settings could be explained by supposing that Isaiah spoke to audiences in the distant future through divine inspiration. While skeptical scholars holding antisupernatural worldviews have denied this possibility, those who believe in an almighty God believe that he can reveal the distant future to his prophets. However, the question is whether that is in fact the case with Isaiah. It is significant that in chapters 40–55 Babylonian oppression is not predicted as something to come in the future but rather is presupposed as the present conditions under which the writer is living—only the release from exile is predicted. Logically, it would seem that the author lived in the situation that he presupposes and before the situation that he predicts.

Arguments for the unity of Isaiah. Some scholars still hold to the unity of Isaiah on the following grounds: (1) no ancient manuscripts show that the book ever existed in another form; (2) differences in style and vocabulary can be explained by different subject matter (besides which, the title “Holy One of Israel” unites all sections of Isaiah, as it is used thirteen times in chapters 1–39, sixteen times in chapters 40–66, and only seven times in the rest of the Bible); (3) it seems unlikely that an author as great as the one who wrote chapters 40–55 should remain anonymous; and (4) although it is logical to assume that a prophet is contemporary with what he presupposes, once a prophet makes a prediction, that prediction can become a presupposition for another prediction. Therefore, Isaiah’s prediction of exile in 39:6–7 could become the basis or presupposition on which he continued to prophesy the end to the exile.

However, these arguments are not compelling. Although no manuscripts attest to earlier versions of the book, we possess so few manuscripts from before the time of Christ (and none dating to the time during which the three sections of Isaiah are thought to have been combined) that this is insignificant. Also, the differences in subject matter do not seem great enough to explain the very different style and language in the various sections. Regarding the unlikelihood that the writer of chapters 40–55 could remain anonymous, the fact is that many biblical books are indeed anonymous (e.g., Judges, 1–2 Kings, 1–2 Chronicles). However, most significant are the different historical settings of the major sections of Isaiah. If Isaiah was addressing an audience in the distant future, not only would it be a situation unparalleled in the biblical prophets, but also the message would have been largely unintelligible to Isaiah’s contemporaries (especially references to Cyrus). Moreover, the text does not claim to predict these situations but only presupposes them. However, the reality of prophetic inspiration is underscored, as a later author predicts not only the end of the exile but also a suffering messiah.

First, Second, and Third Isaiah. For convenience (and not to imply that each author was named “Isaiah”), the three major sections are often referred to as First Isaiah (chaps. 1–39), Second Isaiah (chaps. 40–55), and Third Isaiah (chaps. 56–66). In light of the purposeful connections between the different sections, it is probable that the book was the product of a “school” of Isaiah’s disciples (cf. 8:16) who collected and organized Isaiah’s words and added to them over a long period of time.

In the end, the involvement of multiple authors in the composition of Isaiah does not undermine its authority as Scripture. Its authority derives not from the namesake prophet but rather from God, who inspired its writing (2 Tim. 3:16).

Plan of the Book

Isaiah has a literary structure similar to that of Ezekiel, Zephaniah, Joel, and the Greek translation of Jeremiah. The first section is concerned with judgment on Israel (chaps. 1–12), the second with judgment on foreign nations (chaps. 13–23), and the third records prophecies of hope and salvation (chaps. 24–27). This structure purposefully places hopeful oracles of comfort after the judgment oracles. Some view the entire book of Isaiah as following this pattern (chaps. 1–12, judgment on Israel; chaps. 13–35, judgment on other nations; chaps. 40–66, oracles of comfort). However, both of these schemes are somewhat forced, since each section is slightly mixed (there are oracles of salvation in chaps. 1–12, prophecies against Judah in chaps. 13–23, and judgment oracles in chaps. 56–66). However, in broad outline it is helpful to recognize this structure.

Outline

I. Judgment on Judah (1–12)

II. Judgment on the Nations (13–27)

III. Warnings to Trust in the Lord (28–35)

IV. The Assyrian Crisis (36–39)

V. The Second Exodus (40–48)

VI. The Restoration of Jerusalem (49–55)

VII. The Earthly and New Jerusalem (56–66)

First Isaiah (Isa. 1–39)

Key historical events. This section of Isaiah comes from the period when the nation of Assyria was aggressively expanding its territory and terrorizing weaker nations, such as Israel and Judah. Two key historical events form the background for many oracles in chapters 1–39 and are the prominent focus there: the Syro-Ephraimite war of 734 BC and the 701 BC Assyrian invasion of Judah.

The Syro-Ephraimite war. The nations of Aram (Syria) and Israel (Ephraim) allied together against Assyria and tried to coerce Judah into joining them. They planned to replace King Ahaz with a king of their choice (7:6), which would end the Davidic dynasty. In the end, Ahaz rejected Isaiah’s advice to simply trust God (7:9) and instead appealed to the king of Assyria for aid. The Assyrians conquered Aram (732 BC) and Israel (722 BC) and assimilated them into the Assyrian empire. Judah survived but had to pay tribute to Assyria from that point onward.

The Assyrian invasion of Judah. The Assyrian king Sennacherib invaded Judah when Hezekiah, Ahaz’s son, reigned in Jerusalem. The invasion devastated Judah; however, when Jerusalem was threatened, Hezekiah, in contrast to his father, trusted God to save them, and the Assyrian army suffered massive losses and failed to take Jerusalem (37:36).

Structure and themes. The structure of chapters 1–39 is quite complex. However, the prophecies and historical narratives concerned with Isaiah’s day are roughly in chronological order (e.g., prophecies and events occurring during the reign of King Ahaz [6:1–8:22] precede those during Hezekiah’s reign [36:1–39:8]). The structure of these chapters alternates between threat and promise (e.g., chap. 1 = threat; 2:1–4 = promise of hope; 2:5–4:1 = threat; 4:2–6 = promise of hope). Analogously, the main themes of these chapters alternate between threat and promise.

Holiness. A major theme of Isaiah is God’s holiness, as evidenced in its favorite title for the Lord, “Holy One of Israel.” While the original idea underlying holiness was physical separation and did not have an ethical dimension (e.g., temple prostitutes in the ancient Near East were called “holy women”), a different concept of holiness emerges in chapter 6, the account of Isaiah’s call. Since 6:1–9:7 is the only part in the book with autobiographical narration, these chapters probably come from an original memoir of Isaiah himself. The memoir is surrounded by judgment oracles with a repeated element, “Yet for all this, his anger is not turned away, his hand is still upraised” (5:25; 9:12, 17, 21; 10:4), suggesting that the memoir as a whole was inserted between these oracles to explain God’s anger recorded in 1–12. God’s mandate to Israel was to “be holy, because I am holy” (Lev. 11:44–45), but Israel failed to follow this command. In the presence of the holy God, Isaiah realized his own sinfulness and the sinfulness of his people (6:5), connecting the concepts of holiness and righteousness.

The remnant. Already in the first chapter we see the emergence of two groups within Israel: the wicked, who will be punished, and a remnant, who will be redeemed (1:27–31). This focus on the remnant was one way in which Isaiah saw hope for Israel despite the coming judgment that he predicted. The remnant theme highlights the apparent tension between God as holy and God as redeemer: God’s holiness is upheld through the judgment on Israel, but God’s character as savior is witnessed through the remnant that is redeemed.

A coming messianic king. The section 6:1–9:7 dates from the time of the Syro-Ephraimite war, and it appears that Isaiah wrote it down (8:16) when Ahaz refused his counsel. The memoir emphasizes the rejection of the Davidic king Ahaz and predicts the birth of a royal son who would replace Ahaz and bring freedom from oppression (9:1–7). This dissatisfaction with the reigning Davidic king was the seedbed for messianic expectations and is the background for the messianic trilogy of 7:14–16; 9:2–7; 11:1–9. While some of these passages may have originally referred to Hezekiah, he falls short of these messianic expectations, leaving the community of faith awaiting another anointed one (messiah). Ominously, chapter 39 describes Hezekiah’s entertaining guests from Babylon, perhaps implying an alliance between the two nations. Hezekiah’s actions prompt Isaiah to predict the Babylonian exile (39:6–7), providing a fitting segue to chapters 40–66.

Second Isaiah (Isa. 40–55)

A message to the exiles. Second Isaiah was written near the end of the exilic period for those who were deported by Nebuchadnezzar to Babylon. Although the exiles in Babylon were settled in communities (Ezek. 3:15) and allowed to build houses and farm the land (Jer. 29:5–7), they had no temple for worship, and many of the exiles probably saw the destruction of Jerusalem and their temple as the end of God’s action on their behalf. The gods of Babylon appeared to have won the victory. The exiles’ faith was flagging, and even those who did not abandon worship of Israel’s God simply clung to the past and expected nothing new from him.

Contrary to these expectations, Second Isaiah proclaims that God is doing something new for his people and bringing an end to the exile (40:1; 55:12). The role of Cyrus in this deliverance is highlighted, with explicit and implicit reference made to the Persian king (41:2–3, 25; 44:28; 45:1–4, 13–14). However, amid the oracles of comfort there is also a challenge to Israel, which is somehow resistant to the message. To break down this resistance, the prophecy has a sustained rhetoric against idol worship, with some quite hilarious sections ridiculing idol makers (44:9–20). Israel needed to realize that only Yahweh is God and to trust that he will redeem Israel for his purposes. Chapters 1–39 allude to the redemption of Israel (1:27; 35:9), and chapters 40–66 reveal more of how this redemption will take place: the work of “the servant.”

The servant. Several poems featuring an anonymous “servant” (42:1–9; 49:1–12; 50:4–11; 52:13–53:12) are often referred to as the Servant Songs. As far back as the Ethiopian eunuch (Acts 8:34), interpreters have struggled with how to identify “the servant.” At times, Israel is explicitly identified as the servant (Isa. 41:8–9; 42:19 [2×]; 43:10), yet the servant clearly also has individual features, suggesting that a person was to fill the role. Some have suggested Cyrus because 42:1 says that the servant “will bring justice to the nations,” and Cyrus is described as conquering nations (41:2, 25; 45:1). However, despite all the talk of Cyrus, the text never explicitly applies the term “servant” to him, which can hardly be by chance. Alternatively, the servant could be the prophet who speaks in these chapters (as the Ethiopian eunuch speculated), since he was destined for his mission before his birth (49:1) and equipped for a mission involving prophetic speech (49:2) and had received divinely revealed knowledge (50:4).

Yet the Servant Songs are also messianic and look forward to a future anointed one who will fulfill the role of the servant fully. In the NT, Jesus is presented as the new Israel (cf. Matt. 2:15 with Hos. 11:1) who truly fulfills the role of the servant (John 12:38, quoting Isa. 53:1; Matt. 8:17, quoting Isa. 53:4). However, Paul appears to hold to a collective interpretation of the songs, as he sees himself as the servant in some instances (Acts 13:47; Rom. 15:21; Gal. 1:15). Both the individual and the collective interpretations are legitimated in the NT, as both Jesus (individual) and the church (collective), which is Christ’s body, fulfill the role of the servant.

Third Isaiah (Isa. 56–66)

In 539 BC Cyrus allowed the exiles to return home to rebuild Jerusalem and its temple (Ezra 1:1–4). Despite many obstacles, the temple was finished in 515 BC. Even with this success, living in the land was challenging (see Malachi), with factions among the people, economic troubles, hypocritical worship (Isa. 58:1–14), and problems with corrupt leaders (56:9–57:13). It was for this postexilic community that Third Isaiah was written (probably before the reforms of Ezra and Nehemiah in 445 BC brought lasting change to the desperate situation).

Unlike in chapters 40–55, where Israel needs to be roused from its despair by the imminent actions of God, in chapters 56–66 the people are pleading with God to help them (59:11; 62:7). In chapter 59 the prophet declares that God’s delay in helping his people is due not to his inability but rather to the sins of the people, which are described, confessed, and lamented.

In many ways, Third Isaiah unites the themes of First Isaiah and Second Isaiah. Second Isaiah emphasizes the inbreaking of a new age that contrasts with the old. The former things are remembered, but the new thing that God was doing—the return from exile—is stressed. However, in Third Isaiah the deliverance from Babylon is seen as merely a foretaste of God’s promise, which is now identified as a new heaven and earth (chaps. 65–66). Third Isaiah looks forward to the new things that are still ahead.

First Isaiah predicts a Davidic messiah who would rule in righteousness (9:1–7; 11:1–9) and a faithful remnant that would respond in trust (10:20; 28:16). Second Isaiah does not continue with these themes, instead turning attention to the “servant” whose suffering and death would atone for Israel (53:4–5). However, Third Isaiah links First Isaiah’s faithful remnant with obedient “servants” who take on the mission of the Suffering Servant in Second Isaiah. This interpretation sets the direction for the NT’s identification of the royal messiah of chapters 1–39 as the servant of chapters 40–55 (Luke 24:26; Acts 8:32). Third Isaiah thus unites and reinterprets the book as a whole.

It is fitting that Jesus read the opening verses of Isa. 61 in the synagogue at the beginning of his ministry. Like Third Isaiah, he united prophecies of both the messianic Davidic ruler of First Isaiah and the Suffering Servant of Second Isaiah, taking on both roles himself. Third Isaiah ends with a glorious future pictured for the Jewish community as they function as priests in the world (61:6). Similarly, Christ’s body, the church, now functions in these same roles in the world (cf. Acts 13:47; Rev. 5:10).

Old Testament

Students of biblical history must work with several overlapping systems of chronology. This section defines several approaches and describes how they are interconnected.

Absolute and relative dates. Absolute dates consist of a numerical value falling in one of two eras, BC (“Before Christ”; also referred to as BCE, “Before the Common Era”) or AD (Anno Domini, “in the year of our Lord”; also referred to as CE, “Common Era”). For example, Samaria fell to the Assyrians in 722 BC. This system of absolute dating, a commonplace of modern life, was devised only in the sixth century AD, so it is unknown in biblical and other ancient sources. Instead of absolute dates, the Bible and other ancient historiographic sources give relative dates; that is, events are dated in relation to other recorded events, as in 1 Kings 15:1: “In the eighteenth year of the reign of Jeroboam son of Nebat, Abijah became king of Judah.” The system of relative dates in the OT can be collated to form a single relative chronology.

Using royal histories. For the purposes of constructing a unified chronology, the royal history in Samuel-Kings and Chronicles is of central importance, with its tabulations of the ages of the kings at accession and the lengths of their reigns. The biblical chronology can then be assigned to absolute dates by establishing synchronisms with other historical chronicles (most usefully, from Mesopotamia), which in turn can be fixed to a handful of absolute dates. Of particular importance are records (all nonbiblical cuneiform texts) of observed astronomical phenomena, the appearance of which in history can now be calculated with a high degree of mathematical certainty. Annalistic sources (documents that record an entry for each passing year, such as the cuneiform eponym chronicles) are particularly valuable. The Bible contains no annalistic sources, but rather is made up of chronistic sources—that is, texts that record and quantify the passage of time, but without a separate accounting of each year. When miscalculations or textual corruptions affect chronistic records, they are difficult to correct (see 1 Sam. 13:1). The biblical data, consisting of summary figures, probably go back to annalistic sources that were compiled from year to year (perhaps the records mentioned in, e.g., 1 Kings 11:41; 14:19).

The assembly of a unified biblical chronology on the basis of the royal histories is further complicated by the fact that several calendars—royal, agricultural, cultic—were in simultaneous use. There may also have been a discrepancy between Israel and Judah with regard to the reckoning of the cultic New Year. Added to this, in several cases the biblical data imply a period of coregency, during which the reigns of the outgoing king and his appointed successor overlapped, creating the potential for the years of the coregency to be counted twice. In biblical times there were two systems of reckoning dates based on royal succession: the “accession-year” system, which omitted from the length of a king’s reign any partial year from his accession to the first New Year, and the “nonaccession-year” system, which began counting the years of a king’s reign as soon as he acceded. In nonaccession-year dating, any year in which there are two kings gets counted twice: once as the last year of the former king, and once as the first year of the new king. The biblical chronologies appear to use both systems, with a movement from the nonaccession-year system to the accession-year system in later centuries. Obviously, the choice of systems dictates the significance of the figures presented in the Bible and must be taken into account in the collation of data.

Combining royal regnal data and various genealogical tables (based on, e.g., Gen. 5; 11; the summary figures in Exod. 12:41; 1 Kings 6:1), it is possible to reconstruct a putative world chronology from the creation of Adam to the exile. Famously, in 1650 James Ussher followed this procedure, working backward from absolute dates known from classical sources, to determine that the world was created on the night before October 23, 4004 BC. In its day, this was a work of impressive scholarship, but Ussher’s chronology is too short to encompass not only archaeological findings (from the land of Israel itself, there are Neolithic and Chalcolithic artifacts going back ten thousand years), but also findings in all branches of the sciences that corroborate the age of the earth at about 4.5 billion years and the appearance of modern humans approximately two hundred thousand years before the present. Beginning in the first millennium BC, however, the Bible provides chronological data that, with modest adjustments, agree with other historical and archaeological findings.

Weighing the sources. Because of the variety of materials in the OT, it is crucial to determine which sources are of historical value, weighing each in terms of internal and external coherence. As noted above, the backbone of OT chronology is the series of regnal data for the kings of Israel and Judah found in Samuel-Kings and Chronicles. These data are useful because they provide a continuous chronology of several hundred years that can be anchored at several points to datable events in external historical sources. In addition, the history of the kings of Judah and Israel contains references to historical figures known from extrabiblical records. In contrast, the chronology of the OT prior to the period of judges, while internally coherent, cannot be correlated to known absolute dates. Where non-Israelite figures are mentioned, they are often unnamed (e.g., the pharaohs of the eras of Abraham and Moses), anachronistically described (e.g., Abraham’s contacts with the Philistines [Gen. 21:34], a group that did not appear in Palestine until long after the ostensible Middle Bronze Age date of Abraham), or do not correspond to known historical figures (e.g., Abimelek, Nimrod). Although cultural-historical investigation may shed light on the patriarchal narratives and their historical setting, such an approach yields nothing more than vague chronological findings. In some cases, the late date of the biblical texts has obscured chronological indicators, interfering with the project of cultural history. Setting aside questions of the historicity of the patriarchal narratives, apart from the reports of their ages, there is little data to work with when it comes to constructing a chronology of the patriarchs.

The story of the exodus from Egypt presents an event that, in principle, should be datable on the basis of external data. The mass migration of millions of persons, the destruction of the army of a geopolitical superpower, and the subsequent conquest of a small but powerful country are events that promise to provide a chronological anchor for the beginning of Israel’s history. Unfortunately, the event recorded in the Bible has not left a clear mark, either in the historiography of Egypt or in the archaeology of Palestine. On closer inspection, the biblical text contains a number of features that frustrate any attempt to date the events on their basis. Unlike in the histories of the biblical monarchs, the pharaoh of the Exodus, a figure of international stature in his own day, is never named in the Bible. Some have attempted to fix a date to the exodus on the basis of the occurrence of the name “Rameses” in Exod. 1:11; 12:37. This name was not current in Egypt before the thirteenth century BC. If it provides a clue as to the date of the exodus, it does so only at the expense of broader biblical chronology, according to which the exodus occurred in the fifteenth century BC (in particular, based on the figures given in Exod. 12:41; 1 Kings 6:1). It is not until we get into the monarchic period, when the history of Israel is intertwined with that of named international figures, that absolute dates can be established with certainty.

Biblical events that can be assigned absolute dates based on cuneiform historical records include the following. Ahab was king of Israel at the time of the battle of Qarqar in 853 BC. The Kurkh monolith of Shalmaneser III records his participation in the coalition of Hadadezer, though the event is not mentioned in the Bible. Jehu was on the throne of Judah in 841 BC, when Shalmaneser III recorded that he gave tribute to Assyria. Joash was king of Israel in 796 BC, when he rendered tribute to Adad-nirari III. Menahem was king in 740 and 738 BC (see 2 Kings 15:19), when he paid tribute to Tiglath-pileser III (the biblical Pul). Ahaz paid tribute to Tiglath-pileser in 734 BC, and Manasseh to Esarhaddon around 674 BC. These synchronisms provide in each case upper and lower limits for fixing the reign of the kings of Israel and Judah. In some cases, the chronology of the book of Kings must be adjusted to fit these dates, on the assumption that the Deuteronomistic Historian lacked firsthand knowledge about the history of the northern kingdom, was attempting to work with conflicting sources, or made errors in calculation. Other important synchronisms include Hoshea’s coup against Pekah (2 Kings 15:30), dated based on an inscription of Tiglath-pileser III to 732 BC; the fall of Samaria (2 Kings 17:6), dated based on the Babylonian Chronicle to 722 BC; Sennacherib’s Judean campaign in 701 BC (2 Kings 18:13–19:36); the Battle of Carchemish in 605 BC (Jer. 46:2); the capture of Jerusalem in 597 BC (2 Kings 24:12); and the release of Jehoiachin from captivity in 561 BC, coinciding with the accession of Amel-Marduk (2 Kings 25:27).

Periodization of history. In addition to relative and absolute chronologies, biblical scholars refer to several schemes of periodization defined by technological and political developments.

The most ancient scheme of periodization is implied in the Bible itself, which conceives of periods of judges (Judg. 17:6), united monarchy, divided monarchy, and exile. The transitions between phases in this scheme are defined by dramatic social and political discontinuities. Another approach to the periodization of Israelite history involves defining the major transitions in terms of the material culture. Prior to the fall of Jerusalem, modern biblical scholars and archaeologists divide Syro-Palestinian history into several periods, named for developments in metallurgical technology. While there is some variety of opinion among scholars regarding the exact dates used, the following scheme is widely used (given with rough correlations to the biblical periods):

Early Bronze Age – 3300 to 2200 BC (Primeval period?)

Middle Bronze Age – 2200 to 1550 BC (Patriarch)

Late Bronze Age – 1550 to 1200 BC (Period in Egypt, exodus)

Iron Age – 1200 to 586 BC (Judges monarchy)

The Iron Age is further subdivided as follows:

Iron Age – 1200 to 1000 BC (Judges)

Iron Age IIA – 1000 to 900 BC (United monarchy)

Iron Age IIB – 900 to 700 BC (Divided monarchy)

Iron Age IIC – 700 to 586 BC (Fall of Samaria to fall of Jerusalem

The divisions between these periods are heuristic and do not correspond to precisely dated developments in metallurgy. For instance, some iron artifacts may be dated to the Bronze Age, though not widespread iron metalworking on an industrial scale. Especially in the various subdivisions of the Iron Age, transitions begin to be defined by political events rather than the metal sequence: Iron IA corresponds to the biblical period of the judges, Iron IIA to the united monarchy, Iron IIB to the divided monarchy, and Iron IIC to the period between the falls of Samaria and Jerusalem, when the southern kingdom alone had political autonomy. Some scholars round off the dates to avoid a periodization based on short-term political events and to emphasize the gradual rate of change in material culture and technology (e.g., using the round dates 900, 700, 600).

For events and dates after the fall of Jerusalem, historians employ a scheme of periodization based heavily on political factors. The series of periods are named for the dominant geopolitical powers in Syria-Palestine:

Neo-Babylonian period – 622 to 539 BC (Late Judean monarchy, exile)

Persian period – 539 to 330 BC (Return from exile)

Hellenistic period – 330 to 63 BC (Intertestamental)

Roman period – 63 BC to AD 324 (New Testament events

Although there was significant redaction (and, according to some, composition) of biblical texts in the Hellenistic period, no biblical narratives are ostensibly set in the period. Thus, the internal periodization of history in the Hebrew Bible ends with the return from exile (the Persian period).

New Testament

The birth of Jesus. According to Matt. 2:1 (see also Luke 1:5), Jesus was born during the lifetime of Herod the Great, who, as we know from Josephus, died in 4 BC (see Matt. 2:15–19). In his attempt to kill Jesus, Herod ordered the slaughter of male children up to the age of two, based on information that he obtained from the magi concerning the appearance of the star heralding Jesus’ birth (Matt. 2:16). Thus, Matthew’s account implies a date no later than 4 BC, but possibly several years earlier. Some scholars have attempted to correlate the magi’s observance of a star with one of several striking celestial phenomena, including a conjunction of Jupiter, Saturn, and Mars in 7 BC (so Johannes Kepler). Such attempts, however, are weakened by the fact that Matthew’s description of the star is vague, unnaturalistic, and difficult to identify certainly with a planetary alignment or any other known phenomenon (in particular, the star is said to move and then come to rest over Jesus’ location). Another line of investigation involves Luke’s correlation of Jesus’ birth with a Roman census that he dates to the time of Quirinius (Luke 2:1–2). This report, however, contradicts the testimony of Josephus, according to whom Quirinius became governor in AD 6 (a decade after the death of Herod). Most likely, Jesus was born shortly before 4 BC, during the reign of Herod.

The beginning and duration of Jesus’ public ministry. According to Luke 3:23, Jesus was “about thirty years old” at the time of his baptism and the beginning of his public ministry. In John 8:57, Jesus is challenged: “You are not yet fifty years old.” These two round numbers provide reasonable limits for the age of Jesus during his ministry. Owing to a paucity of chronological indicators in the Synoptic Gospels, the ministry of Jesus as depicted in Matthew, Mark, and Luke could have taken place within the space of a single year. In contrast, John narrates postbaptism events during three occurrences of the annual Passover festival (John 2:13; 6:4; 11:55), suggesting that Jesus’ ministry lasted for three years or longer. Unfortunately, the chronology of John appears in some instances to be at odds with the other Gospels. Most significantly, he places Jesus’ cleansing of the temple at the beginning, rather than the end, of his ministry (John 2:13–22; cf. Mark 11:15–19 pars.). It is unclear to what degree strict chronology has been modified in the interest of other concerns in each of the Gospels. According to John’s account, the cleansing of the temple occurred forty-six years after the beginning of its construction, an event that Josephus dates to either the eighteenth or the fifteenth year of Herod’s reign (John 2:20), placing the incident in the year AD 28 or 31. Ultimately, there are two sources of uncertainty pertaining to the chronology of Jesus’ ministry: the imprecise (and possibly symbolic) report of his age in Luke 3:23 and the indeterminate length of his ministry.

The death of Jesus. All four Gospels agree that Pontius Pilate, the Roman procurator of Judea, was instrumental in the trial and execution of Jesus. Pilate governed from AD 26 to 36; this provides a latest possible date for the death of Jesus. To refine the chronology beyond this, scholars have attempted to date the end of Jesus’ life based on its occurrence during the Feast of Passover (15 Nisan in the Jewish calendar) and by trying to determine in which year the feast would have coincided with his crucifixion on a Friday. This approach is complicated by the discrepancy between John, according to whom the Passover meal was eaten in the evening following the crucifixion (John 19:14), and Mark, who appears to have an imperfect knowledge of Passover customs (Mark 14:12–16) and thus describes Jesus’ final supper with his disciples as a Passover meal (i.e., on 14 Nisan). Following John’s chronology yields a date for the crucifixion of Friday, April 7 (Nisan 14), AD 30, or Friday, April 3 (Nisan 14), AD 33.

Of these two options, the AD 30 date conforms more closely to Luke 3:23, and it suggests that following a ministry of about three years, Jesus was in his mid- to late thirties at the time of his crucifixion.

Paul’s career. The chronology of Paul’s career remains a difficult question in biblical studies. There are two major sources for this chronology: the letters of Paul (esp. Galatians) and the book of Acts. When independent chronologies are constructed from each of these sources, several difficulties arise, including the absence of absolute anchors in Paul’s letters, lack of clear agreement between Acts and the letters regarding the number of visits to Jerusalem, and, by implication, the periodization of Paul’s career into distinct phases of concerted activity or “missionary journeys.” These data must in turn be synchronized, sometimes requiring some ingenuity, with other historically documented events such as the dating of Claudius’s edict (Acts 18:2), the dates of Aretas’s control of Damascus (2 Cor. 11:32–33), the death of Herod Agrippa in AD 44 (mentioned in Acts 12:23), the presence of Sergius Paulus in Cyprus during Paul’s first missionary journey (Acts 13:7 [this figure is known from inscriptions, but none of them clearly bears on the question]), and Festus’s succession of Felix as the procurator of Palestine (Acts 23–26), which Josephus puts in AD 53.

If we grant a fair measure of historical reliability to the outline of Acts, Paul experienced his conversion around AD 33, visited Jerusalem in AD 36 (Gal. 1:18), completed his first missionary journey and then visited Jerusalem to confer with the other apostles (Acts 15:1–29; Gal. 2:1) in the late 40s, conducted his second and third missionary journeys in the first half of the 50s before being finally arrested in Jerusalem around AD 57, and was taken to Rome in AD 59–60.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

An arid environment challenging to life. Desert comprises about a third of the earth’s land surface, often overtaking verdant areas and squeezing human beings and animals into narrower oases. The deserts of the Bible—Negev, Sinai, Paran, and Zin—are part of the greater Saharo-Arabian desert system, the largest and driest in the world. Most of the land east (areas of present-day Jordan, Iraq, Saudi Arabia) and south (Egypt) of Palestine is desert. However, the desert experience of most Israelites was not vast sands but rather arid environments that could otherwise flourish with sufficient water. In this regard, the biblical “wilderness” and “desert” semantically overlap, but they are not the same environments.

With average precipitation of ten inches or less, these regions typically have sparse vegetation and little or no agriculture (Jer. 2:2). Pliny the Elder (AD 23/24–79) describes the Essenes, who lived near the Dead Sea, as having only “the company of palm trees” (Nat. 5.73). Temperatures are severe, often exceeding 110°F on summer days, but also falling below freezing on winter nights. The limited winter rains provide short-lived grass for grazing (1 Sam. 17:28; Ps. 65:13; Jer. 23:10), along with thorns and briers (Judg. 8:7). Cisterns were dug to collect the precious rain (Gen. 37:22).

The severity of the environment is not conducive for animal and human life. The Bible mentions wild asses (Job 24:5; Jer. 48:6), jackals (Mal. 1:3), ostriches (Lam. 4:3), owls (Ps. 102:7), poisonous snakes (Isa. 30:6), panthers, and wolves (Hab. 1:8). The desert came to be viewed as the haunt of demons (Matt. 12:43) but also as a place for spiritual refreshment. By definition, a desert is untouched by human hands. The patterns and sounds go back to God, not the noisy neighbors of urban life. The desert therefore can facilitate communion with God because of the absence of distractions and the inevitable deepening awareness of the fragility of existence. Scarcity of resources also requires communal sharing and cooperation for survival.

Instead of in major urban centers in Mesopotamia, Egypt, and Palestine, the Bible presents God as training people in the desert by testing their faith, beginning with the patriarchs (Gen. 12–50). God redeems Israel out of Egypt into the desert (Exod. 15:22; 16:1; 17:1), leading them to Sinai (Exod. 18:5; 19:1–2) and then a forty-year sojourn (Num. 14:33; 32:13; Deut. 2:7). Following seasons of testing, concerning which the people routinely fail, God provides freshwater and manna, the “grain of heaven” (Ps. 78:24). However, except on the Sabbath, people are not allowed to store the food but must cultivate complete dependence upon God’s provision for their daily bread. Elijah flees into the wilderness and is provided for by an angel (1 Kings 19:1–8). He returns to Mount Sinai (Horeb) and experiences the immediate presence of God in a “thin silence” (1 Kings 19:8–13; NIV: “gentle whisper”).

This pattern is repeated in the NT, beginning with John the Baptist, who dresses like a desert nomad and subsists on locusts and wild honey—foods near at hand and not subject to agricultural tithing (Matt. 3:4; Mark 1:6). After John’s baptism, Jesus departs into the wilderness, where he fasts and is tempted for forty days and nights among the wild beasts but is also provided for by angels (Matt. 4:1–11 pars.). Paul, after his experience on the road to Damascus, departs into Arabia (Nabatea, present-day Jordan), the place “where the nomads live” and the traditional site of Mount Sinai (Pliny the Elder, Nat. 5.72; Gal. 1:17; 4:25). (Damascus, perhaps the oldest city in the world, is an oasis bordering the Arabian Desert on a highway connecting Egypt with Mesopotamia.) The author of Revelation depicts a woman, who represents the people of God, fleeing into the wilderness to escape the red dragon, Satan (Rev. 12:1–6).

A missive or epistle (2 Chron. 35:4; Ezra 4:7). Usually, ancient Near Eastern letters were written on perishable materials, as opposed to, for example, inscriptions in stone. Since there are few places where such material could survive (deserts or anaerobic bogs), one would expect few surviving letters; yet they number in the tens of thousands. The ancients were letter writers. Significantly, reading old letters has remained a significant aspect of the Christian faith. Today, many Christians regularly read someone else’s mail—the letters of the NT—and face the expected interpretation challenges.

Form

Old Testament letters. Although more than a dozen letters are embedded in the OT (e.g., 2 Sam. 11:15; 1 Kings 21:9–10; 2 Chron. 21:12–15), no OT book is in letter form. Embedded OT letters are truncated or summaries and tell us little of the typical ancient format. From the Lachish letters we infer that Hebrew letters generally opened with “To Addressee, greetings (or blessing),” a technical word of transition (“and now”), and no formal closing. By the Second Temple period, Aramaic letters were evolving into the structure seen in Greco-Roman style.

New Testament letters. Unlike the OT, the NT has twenty-one books in letter form: the thirteen traditional letters of Paul, the anonymous letter of Hebrews, James, 1–2 Peter, 1–3 John, and Jude. Two letters are embedded in Acts (15:23–29; 23:26–30). It is unlikely that the “letters” in Rev. 2–3 were ever dispatched letters. The NT also mentions other letters (Acts 18:27; 1 Cor. 5:9; 7:1; 16:3; 2 Cor. 2:3–4; Col. 4:16; 2 Thess. 2:2; 3:17).

Extant NT letters share the basic format of Greco-Roman letters, beginning with “Sender to Recipient, greetings [chairein].” A prayer (much less commonly a thanksgiving) transitioned into the letter body. The body of the letter opened with various phrases in a set format (stereotyped formula), such as disclosure: “I want you to know, brother(s), that . . .” (P.Oxy. 1493; Gal. 1:11); astonishment: “I am astonished how . . .” (P.Mich. 8.479; Gal. 1:6); petition, joy, and so forth.

The letter closed with final admonitions, greetings, good wishes, and sometimes a date. In addition to a set structure, the content was often far more stereotypical than letters today. Even letters to a family member had generic greetings, set phraseology, and standardized wishes for good health.

Yet, looking beyond the basic letter outline and the use of everyday language and formulas, it becomes clear that NT letters were not part and parcel with typical papyrus letters. Rather than the typical honor markers of rank or city, NT letter writers identified themselves by association with Jesus, sometimes describing themselves as slaves in his household (Rom. 1:1; James 1:1). The typical letter greeting (chairein) was Christianized into “grace” (charis), with the addition of “peace” (eirēnē)—the equivalent of Jewish shalom. A closing benediction was used instead of the typical final health wish/farewell. More significantly, most NT letters were far longer and more complex. The typical private letter of the poor averaged 87 words in length. Literary letters were much longer. Cicero averaged 295 words. Seneca led, with an average 995 per letter. Paul’s letter to Rome has 7,114 words. Paul averaged (including all 13 letters) 2,495 words. Not surprisingly, Paul’s opponents ridiculed his letters as “weighty” (2 Cor. 10:10).

Letters of the NT also assume that the audience is familiar with Jewish Christian tradition (e.g., Jude), inserting hymnic fragments, traditions, OT quotations/allusions, and so on, often without explanation or indication. The letters were to be read in front of the congregation (1 Thess. 5:27). Paul included longer and more complex thanksgivings than any known ancient writer, often using the opening thanksgiving to preview the letter’s main topics (e.g., 1 Cor. 1:4–7). Paul’s letters also contain large amounts of paraenesis (moral exhortation).

Although the typical papyrus letter was brief, thus keeping its cost reasonable, it was still not a trivial expense. For example, a soldier wrote a typical letter home to indicate that he had reached his assignment safely (P.Mich. 8.490), with a likely cost of about a half denarius, or in modern United States currency, about fifty dollars. Yet the length of many NT letters made them far more expensive. Writing to the Romans today would have cost Paul over two thousand U.S. dollars. A letter for public reading (Col. 4:16) needed quality papyrus in good handwriting, not some draft in hurried scrawl (Cicero, Att. 13.14–25). Appearances mattered. (For speakers, appearance was an important part of the rhetoric.)

The official Roman postal service was not for private use. The common person entrusted letters to someone already going to or near the desired destination. This method was popular, free, and surprisingly reliable, though haphazard (P.Mich. 8.499). Otherwise, sending a letter required dispatching a private carrier, often a slave, or a hired carrier (tabellarius). These carriers had advantages. They could guarantee the letter’s authenticity, since forgeries existed (2 Thess. 2:2). If able, they carried other items, often mentioned in the letter (P.Mich. 8.465–467) or the reply (Phil. 4:18). Carriers often provided additional (or confidential) details (so Col. 4:7; Cicero, Fam. 11.20.4; 11.26.5). The writer often commended the carrier as “trustworthy” to guarantee the carrier’s veracity. In Eph. 6:20–22, Paul wants it clear that he intended Tychicus to talk about Paul’s imprisonment (as proof that Paul was not ashamed of his chains), and not that Tychicus was merely revealing secrets, as sometimes was done (1 Cor. 1:11). Finally, Paul may have selected a specific carrier to facilitate that letter’s reception (Romans, Colossians). (See also Paul.)

Function

On the simplest level, letters had two primary functions. Expressions such as “I pray for your health and success” (P.Mich. 8.477) and “Write me how you are and what you want” (P.Mich. 8.498) were to start or keep a relationship with the recipient. Letters were also to inform (Cic-ero, Fam. 2.4.1), as when a son wrote his father, “While I was lying ill on the ship, they were stolen from me” (P.Mich. 8.468). Yet around the NT period, aristocratic writers (beginning with Cicero, then Seneca to Pliny) were modifying the simple private letter, lengthening it and elevating its style. They were using private letters to propagate religious, political, and philosophical ideas.

Scholarly study affected the study of NT letters for nearly one hundred years by arguing for a sharp distinction between “letters” (the letters of the lower classes, seen largely in the recently discovered papyri) and “epistles” (the literary letters of the aristocratic elite). Thus, Adolf Deissmann argued that the forms of NT letters (koine vocabulary, the diatribe, etc.) were indicators of the letter’s intended function: as private letters, they were artless, unschooled, and dashed off in the midst of a flurry of other activities. On the other hand, Cicero intended his “epistles” to Atticus to be read by the broader aristocratic community and thus wrote with that in mind, creating artfully composed treatises in letter form. Although they had the appearance of private letters, Cicero carefully crafted his “epistles,” knowing that others were reading over Atticus’s shoulder. NT letters were not “epistles”; they were spontaneous and should not be read as careful compositions. Yet biblical letters were not merely private documents. Even those addressed to individuals (1–2 Timothy, Titus) seem to speak to the church behind the recipient (3 John attempts to work around Diotrephes and address the church behind Gaius). Our categories of “public” versus “private” fit the ancient world poorly. Since the general function of letters was changing, NT letters should be seen as part of this shifting landscape.

Moreover, as Greco-Roman letters continued to be studied, NT letters seemed more than mere artless notes, scribbled in a spare moment. Indeed, seeing signs of careful rhetorical composition, scholars have noted similarities with categories outlined in Greco-Roman rhetorical handbooks for speeches: forensic (    judicial), epideictic (demonstrative), and deliberative. Arguing that letters were, in a sense, written speeches, various scholars have attempted to identify elements in NT letters that match the required outline for a specific rhetorical argument, meaning that a letter’s rhetorical form could indicate its function. Thus, identifying the rhetorical form would reveal the author’s motive for writing, whether the writer was intending to make a legal defense of personal status or to shape the behavior of the readers. While these studies generate lively debate and some interesting results, the usefulness of applying them to letters is still unclear. Rhetorical analyses of passages in the letters have proved to be more helpful than those categorizing an entire letter. Obviously, biblical letter writers were not writing in a vacuum, but biblical letters seem to mix purposes and not fit neatly into rhetorical categories.

Biblical letters were not dashed off with anything remotely resembling the rapid-fire pace at which email and text messages are sent today. Even phrases that seem to imply casual correspondence (1 Cor. 1:16) are more likely signs of careful rhetorical arguments. It is unlikely that biblical letters represent the work of just a long day or a few evenings. These letters show signs of careful composition (noticed more as scholars better understand ancient rhetoric and epistolary practices). The use of coworkers, secretaries, rough drafts, and revisions suggests that a NT letter was likely worked and reworked before being dispatched.

Evangelism is the proclamation of the “evangel” (Gk. euangelion), the good news, of Jesus Christ. The content of the evangel includes Jesus’ birth, which was announced as good news to Zechariah by the angel Gabriel (Luke 1:19) and by the angels to the shepherds (Luke 2:10). The good news speaks of the reality of Jesus’ resurrection (Acts 17:18), is described as a message of grace (Acts 20:24) and reconciliation to God through the sacrificed body of Christ (Col. 1:22–23), and includes the expectation of a day of divine judgment (Rom. 2:16). Paul preached the gospel (from Old English gōdspel, “good news”) message, which he claimed had its origin with God, not humans (Gal. 1:11–12). He summarizes this message in 1 Cor. 15:3b–5: “that Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, and then to the Twelve.” The introduction to the Gospel of Mark (1:1) may indicate that this written gospel could serve evangelistic purposes.

Evangelistic efforts in the New Testament. Numerous figures throughout the NT participated in evangelistic endeavors. John the Baptist’s preaching about the coming Messiah is described as evangelism (Luke 3:18). Evangelism was a characteristic activity of Jesus’ own ministry (Matt. 4:23; 9:35; Mark 1:14; Luke 20:1), which focused on proclaiming the advent of the kingdom of God (Luke 4:43; 8:1) and at times was targeted toward the poor (Matt. 11:5; Luke 4:18; 7:22). Jesus commanded those who follow him to engage in evangelism. He sent out the twelve apostles for evangelistic purposes (Luke 9:2), and he issued the Great Commission to this end (Matt. 28:18–20).

The missionary enterprise recorded in Acts demonstrates the efforts of the earliest Christians to spread the gospel. The apostles in Jerusalem (Acts 5:42) proclaimed the gospel in spite of great opposition and persecution, and believers who were scattered outside Jerusalem because of persecution spread the gospel in new locales (8:4). Philip evangelized Samaritans and an Ethiopian (8:12, 35). The ministry of Paul and Barnabas is characterized as preaching the good news (14:7, 15, 21; 15:35; 16:10; 17:18). Philip, one of the seven chosen to distribute food (6:5), was given the name “the Evangelist” (21:8). Timothy, additionally, is said to be Paul’s fellow worker in evangelism (1 Thess. 3:2; cf. 2 Tim. 4:5).

Evangelism was a central part of Paul’s ministry (Rom. 1:9; 1 Cor. 1:17; 15:1–2; Eph. 6:19; 1 Thess. 2:2, 9). He indicated an explicit interest in sharing the gospel with Gentiles (Rom. 15:16; Gal. 1:16; 2:7; Eph. 3:8) and with those who had never heard it (Rom. 15:20; 2 Cor. 10:16), and he expressed a desire to preach the gospel at Rome (Rom. 1:15). Paul wrote of the necessity of evangelism in order for people to be saved (Rom. 10:15), and he preached the gospel message free of charge (1 Cor. 9:16, 18; 2 Cor. 11:7). He listed the role of the evangelist in the church along with apostles, prophets, pastors, and teachers (Eph. 4:11).

Goal and methods of evangelism. Evangelism’s goal is to spread the gospel across ethnic and religious boundaries until it reaches all nations (Mark 13:10; Col. 1:23). To this end, Acts details an intentional effort by the earliest Christians to share the gospel with those who came from both Jewish and non-Jewish backgrounds. Acts 8:25 records Peter and John’s evangelistic efforts in Samaritan villages, and Acts 15:7 identifies Peter as an evangelist to Gentiles. An outreach specifically to Gentiles is chronicled in Acts 11:20, and Paul’s intentional program of traveling from city to city further contributes to this goal (Rom. 15:19).

The evangelists recorded in the NT demonstrate a range of methods and approaches to sharing the good news. They often began with a point of contact from the religious worldview of their audience. For instance, Philip used Scripture as a starting point in speaking with an individual who was familiar with some portion of it (Acts 8:35). Similarly, when addressing Jews, Paul preached Jesus as the fulfillment of various OT Scriptures (Acts 13:32–41), but when preaching the gospel to the Greeks in Athens, he acknowledged their religiosity and their previous worship of one called “an unknown God” (17:22–23). Evangelists sought opportunities to gain an audience, and Paul even took advantage of an illness to stay with the Galatians and share the gospel with them (Gal. 4:13). Finally, much of the evangelistic work in the early church was coupled with miraculous signs and wonders, which served to authenticate the message being proclaimed (Rom. 15:19; 1 Thess. 1:5).

A form of communal discipline characterized by expulsion from the community of the faithful. Jewish communities practiced excommunication, defined as being cut off from the people of Israel, and it is mentioned in connection with a number of transgressions: eating yeast during Passover (Exod. 12:15), failing to heed the call to return following the exile (Ezra 10:8), performing an improper sacrifice (Lev. 17:8–9), and others. David calls for his enemies to be cut off from the people of Israel (Ps. 109:13). In Jesus’ day, excommunication could take the form of anything from a light censure to death. The Sanhedrin held the power of excommunication in serious cases, but to kill an offender required the authority of the Gentile rulers. Thus, the punishment of death for blasphemy put upon Jesus could not be exercised by the Sanhedrin alone.

Early Christians took their authority to excommunicate wayward members of the church from Jesus’ words that sins against the Holy Spirit are unforgivable and that the apostles have authority to bind and loose (Mark 3:29; Matt. 16:19; 18:18). Both the concept and the practice of cutting off church members from spiritual fellowship for willful moral failures or refusal to abandon incorrect teachings appear throughout the NT (e.g., Matt. 18:15–17; Gal. 1:18; Titus 3:10–11; Heb. 10:28; 2 John 10–11). In Acts 5:1–10, the dramatic story of Ananias and Sapphira, telling lies to the church is specifically designated a sin against the Holy Spirit, and the offenders fall down dead following a pronouncement by Peter. In a different circumstance, Paul calls for the Corinthian church, regarding a sexually immoral person, to “hand this man over to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, so that his spirit may be saved on the day of the Lord” (1 Cor. 5:5). He even forbids members of the Corinthian church from personally associating with a Christian who has been cut off because of sexual immorality (1 Cor. 5:11).

As a rule, excommunication seeks the repentance and ultimate salvation of the one excluded (see James 5:19), while at the same time serving to protect the faithful from unhealthy influences. However, exclusion because of apostasy is stated to be an eternal punishment (Heb. 6:4–6). Excommunication also has a rich history in the Christian church beyond the NT. Heretics who opposed the decisions of the ecumenical councils were formally cursed (proclaimed anathema) and considered to be outside the fellowship of the church. Unfortunately, the process of excommunication sometimes was abused, with corrupt leaders using the threat of exclusion or denial of the sacraments for political purposes. The early Protestant reformers and some of their forerunners were excommunicated by the Roman Catholic Church, but they felt that their devotion to orthodoxy, if not the particular form championed by the Roman Catholic Church, rendered the excommunication invalid.

The Bible says that on judgment day, God will evaluate the deeds done during our lifetime (2 Cor. 5:10; Rev. 20:12). God saves us by grace alone, through faith alone, because of what Christ alone has done; nevertheless, our works serve as the evidence or “fruit” of regeneration (Matt. 7:15–27). Works also become God’s standard when the lost are condemned in his heavenly court, since he “will repay each person according to what they have done” and each person has, in fact, sinned (Rom. 2:6; 3:23). But what will God do with young children and the mentally challenged, neither of whom can understand God’s moral law well enough to sin against it or obey it consciously? How will God treat people who could never understand the gospel no matter how clearly an evangelist presents it? The received answer to this question appeals to the idea that we must reach an “age of accountability” before God holds us responsible for our own deeds, and that this age varies with the individual person. But does Scripture endorse this idea?

The parents of miscarried children and those whose children have died at an early age have the greatest emotional stake in the answer to this question. They want to hear that they will see their children again; and the position taken here is that they will, though for a different reason than the one commonly given. Specifically, we must not say that the innocence of these children qualifies them for heaven, because Adam’s corruption affects us all (Rom. 5:12; cf. Pss. 51:5; 58:3). Their inherited depravity could not show itself in overt sins, at least not at a very early age, but Scripture implies that they suffer from it nonetheless. Consequently, as with every case of salvation, the future of children and the mentally handicapped is decided on the basis of God’s grace. They are guilty and stand in need of the cross, as we all do. But would God apply the work of Christ to them by the Spirit before they can function as moral agents and respond consciously to the gospel? A circumstantial case can be made for answering in the affirmative to this question, with this caveat: the argument given applies only to these special cases. It does not encourage the view that unreached sinners are essentially infants in God’s sight and thus justified by similar arrangements.

We begin by noting that God claims some people for his own purposes, even in infancy. He does so in John the Baptist’s case, filling him with the Holy Spirit from his mother’s womb (Luke 1:15). David and Jeremiah also see God’s hand upon them from their earliest days (Ps. 22:10; Jer. 1:5), as does the apostle Paul (Gal. 1:15). At a minimum, these texts show us that God can and, in some cases, has dealt with human beings before they could ever respond consciously to him. David also expects to be personally reunited with his deceased son, saying, “I will go to him, but he will not return to me” (2 Sam. 12:23). A final clue is the response of Jesus to children during the days of his earthly life. He rebukes his disciples for keeping children away from him, saying that God’s kingdom belongs to “such as these” (Matt. 19:14; Mark 10:14; cf. Matt. 18:3). Of course, these episodes are included mainly to show adults what discipleship means, with special reference to humility and self-forgetfulness. In following Jesus, we must care no more for our social status and dignity than young children typically do. Yet one would not do well to argue that Jesus welcomes children into his company merely for illustrative purposes, as if they mean no more to him than handy visual aids. The disciples place children low on their Lord’s list of ministry priorities, and Jesus raises them all the way up. Our answer to this question must be an educated guess, but the safest conclusion seems to be that while children still need the cross, they receive its benefits consistently by other means and thus go to heaven when they die.

A Roman province located in the southeast of modern-day Turkey. Its capital was Tarsus, home of Paul (Acts 21:39; 22:3). Jews from Cilicia participated in the stoning of Stephen (Acts 6:9). The province of Cilicia is often mentioned in the NT as Paul traveled on his journeys (Acts 15:23, 41; 23:34; 27:5; Gal. 1:21). Due to his ministry there, Cilicia became a major center for Gentile Christians.

The province acted as a bridge between Syria and Asia Minor. Cilicia is divided into the mountainous region in the western half and the plains region in the east. The Cilician Pass through the Taurus Mountains allowed access between Asia Minor and Syria. The fertile plain and the abundance of metal in the mountains made this province one of economic importance.

The area was annexed as part of the Roman Empire in 67 BC by Pompey. During the NT period the two halves of Cilicia were split, the mountainous region belonging to Antiochus IV and the western plains to the province of Syria. Vespasian united the two areas in AD 72. There was a significant Jewish population here beginning in the second century BC after two thousand families were moved to Asia Minor by Antiochus the Great.

A city from which King Solomon acquired horses (1 Kings 10:28; 2 Chron. 1:16). This city is believed by many to be an ancient name for Cilicia, a city in Asia Minor located in the southeast of modern Turkey. If so, it would be located between the Taurus and Amanus mountain ranges and the Mediterranean Sea, on a vital trade route between Syria and Asia Minor. During the time of Solomon the area would have been inhabited by the neo-Hittites. Scholars are divided about whether the Hebrew word translated in 1 Kings 10:28; 2 Chron. 1:16 as “Egypt” (mitsrayim) should instead be “Musri,” another country in Asia Minor, near Cilicia, and famed for horses. Luke and Paul include Cilicia with Syria in their writings (Acts 6:9; 15:23, 41; 21:39; 22:3; 23:34; 27:5; Gal. 1:21), which reflect the political changes that transpired from 100 BC through the first century AD.

A missive or epistle (2 Chron. 35:4; Ezra 4:7). Usually, ancient Near Eastern letters were written on perishable materials, as opposed to, for example, inscriptions in stone. Since there are few places where such material could survive (deserts or anaerobic bogs), one would expect few surviving letters; yet they number in the tens of thousands. The ancients were letter writers. Significantly, reading old letters has remained a significant aspect of the Christian faith. Today, many Christians regularly read someone else’s mail—the letters of the NT—and face the expected interpretation challenges.

Form

Old Testament letters. Although more than a dozen letters are embedded in the OT (e.g., 2 Sam. 11:15; 1 Kings 21:9–10; 2 Chron. 21:12–15), no OT book is in letter form. Embedded OT letters are truncated or summaries and tell us little of the typical ancient format. From the Lachish letters we infer that Hebrew letters generally opened with “To Addressee, greetings (or blessing),” a technical word of transition (“and now”), and no formal closing. By the Second Temple period, Aramaic letters were evolving into the structure seen in Greco-Roman style.

New Testament letters. Unlike the OT, the NT has twenty-one books in letter form: the thirteen traditional letters of Paul, the anonymous letter of Hebrews, James, 1–2 Peter, 1–3 John, and Jude. Two letters are embedded in Acts (15:23–29; 23:26–30). It is unlikely that the “letters” in Rev. 2–3 were ever dispatched letters. The NT also mentions other letters (Acts 18:27; 1 Cor. 5:9; 7:1; 16:3; 2 Cor. 2:3–4; Col. 4:16; 2 Thess. 2:2; 3:17).

Extant NT letters share the basic format of Greco-Roman letters, beginning with “Sender to Recipient, greetings [chairein].” A prayer (much less commonly a thanksgiving) transitioned into the letter body. The body of the letter opened with various phrases in a set format (stereotyped formula), such as disclosure: “I want you to know, brother(s), that . . .” (P.Oxy. 1493; Gal. 1:11); astonishment: “I am astonished how . . .” (P.Mich. 8.479; Gal. 1:6); petition, joy, and so forth.

The letter closed with final admonitions, greetings, good wishes, and sometimes a date. In addition to a set structure, the content was often far more stereotypical than letters today. Even letters to a family member had generic greetings, set phraseology, and standardized wishes for good health.

Yet, looking beyond the basic letter outline and the use of everyday language and formulas, it becomes clear that NT letters were not part and parcel with typical papyrus letters. Rather than the typical honor markers of rank or city, NT letter writers identified themselves by association with Jesus, sometimes describing themselves as slaves in his household (Rom. 1:1; James 1:1). The typical letter greeting (chairein) was Christianized into “grace” (charis), with the addition of “peace” (eirēnē)—the equivalent of Jewish shalom. A closing benediction was used instead of the typical final health wish/farewell. More significantly, most NT letters were far longer and more complex. The typical private letter of the poor averaged 87 words in length. Literary letters were much longer. Cicero averaged 295 words. Seneca led, with an average 995 per letter. Paul’s letter to Rome has 7,114 words. Paul averaged (including all 13 letters) 2,495 words. Not surprisingly, Paul’s opponents ridiculed his letters as “weighty” (2 Cor. 10:10).

Letters of the NT also assume that the audience is familiar with Jewish Christian tradition (e.g., Jude), inserting hymnic fragments, traditions, OT quotations/allusions, and so on, often without explanation or indication. The letters were to be read in front of the congregation (1 Thess. 5:27). Paul included longer and more complex thanksgivings than any known ancient writer, often using the opening thanksgiving to preview the letter’s main topics (e.g., 1 Cor. 1:4–7). Paul’s letters also contain large amounts of paraenesis (moral exhortation).

Although the typical papyrus letter was brief, thus keeping its cost reasonable, it was still not a trivial expense. For example, a soldier wrote a typical letter home to indicate that he had reached his assignment safely (P.Mich. 8.490), with a likely cost of about a half denarius, or in modern United States currency, about fifty dollars. Yet the length of many NT letters made them far more expensive. Writing to the Romans today would have cost Paul over two thousand U.S. dollars. A letter for public reading (Col. 4:16) needed quality papyrus in good handwriting, not some draft in hurried scrawl (Cicero, Att. 13.14–25). Appearances mattered. (For speakers, appearance was an important part of the rhetoric.)

The official Roman postal service was not for private use. The common person entrusted letters to someone already going to or near the desired destination. This method was popular, free, and surprisingly reliable, though haphazard (P.Mich. 8.499). Otherwise, sending a letter required dispatching a private carrier, often a slave, or a hired carrier (tabellarius). These carriers had advantages. They could guarantee the letter’s authenticity, since forgeries existed (2 Thess. 2:2). If able, they carried other items, often mentioned in the letter (P.Mich. 8.465–467) or the reply (Phil. 4:18). Carriers often provided additional (or confidential) details (so Col. 4:7; Cicero, Fam. 11.20.4; 11.26.5). The writer often commended the carrier as “trustworthy” to guarantee the carrier’s veracity. In Eph. 6:20–22, Paul wants it clear that he intended Tychicus to talk about Paul’s imprisonment (as proof that Paul was not ashamed of his chains), and not that Tychicus was merely revealing secrets, as sometimes was done (1 Cor. 1:11). Finally, Paul may have selected a specific carrier to facilitate that letter’s reception (Romans, Colossians). (See also Paul.)

Function

On the simplest level, letters had two primary functions. Expressions such as “I pray for your health and success” (P.Mich. 8.477) and “Write me how you are and what you want” (P.Mich. 8.498) were to start or keep a relationship with the recipient. Letters were also to inform (Cic-ero, Fam. 2.4.1), as when a son wrote his father, “While I was lying ill on the ship, they were stolen from me” (P.Mich. 8.468). Yet around the NT period, aristocratic writers (beginning with Cicero, then Seneca to Pliny) were modifying the simple private letter, lengthening it and elevating its style. They were using private letters to propagate religious, political, and philosophical ideas.

Scholarly study affected the study of NT letters for nearly one hundred years by arguing for a sharp distinction between “letters” (the letters of the lower classes, seen largely in the recently discovered papyri) and “epistles” (the literary letters of the aristocratic elite). Thus, Adolf Deissmann argued that the forms of NT letters (koine vocabulary, the diatribe, etc.) were indicators of the letter’s intended function: as private letters, they were artless, unschooled, and dashed off in the midst of a flurry of other activities. On the other hand, Cicero intended his “epistles” to Atticus to be read by the broader aristocratic community and thus wrote with that in mind, creating artfully composed treatises in letter form. Although they had the appearance of private letters, Cicero carefully crafted his “epistles,” knowing that others were reading over Atticus’s shoulder. NT letters were not “epistles”; they were spontaneous and should not be read as careful compositions. Yet biblical letters were not merely private documents. Even those addressed to individuals (1–2 Timothy, Titus) seem to speak to the church behind the recipient (3 John attempts to work around Diotrephes and address the church behind Gaius). Our categories of “public” versus “private” fit the ancient world poorly. Since the general function of letters was changing, NT letters should be seen as part of this shifting landscape.

Moreover, as Greco-Roman letters continued to be studied, NT letters seemed more than mere artless notes, scribbled in a spare moment. Indeed, seeing signs of careful rhetorical composition, scholars have noted similarities with categories outlined in Greco-Roman rhetorical handbooks for speeches: forensic (    judicial), epideictic (demonstrative), and deliberative. Arguing that letters were, in a sense, written speeches, various scholars have attempted to identify elements in NT letters that match the required outline for a specific rhetorical argument, meaning that a letter’s rhetorical form could indicate its function. Thus, identifying the rhetorical form would reveal the author’s motive for writing, whether the writer was intending to make a legal defense of personal status or to shape the behavior of the readers. While these studies generate lively debate and some interesting results, the usefulness of applying them to letters is still unclear. Rhetorical analyses of passages in the letters have proved to be more helpful than those categorizing an entire letter. Obviously, biblical letter writers were not writing in a vacuum, but biblical letters seem to mix purposes and not fit neatly into rhetorical categories.

Biblical letters were not dashed off with anything remotely resembling the rapid-fire pace at which email and text messages are sent today. Even phrases that seem to imply casual correspondence (1 Cor. 1:16) are more likely signs of careful rhetorical arguments. It is unlikely that biblical letters represent the work of just a long day or a few evenings. These letters show signs of careful composition (noticed more as scholars better understand ancient rhetoric and epistolary practices). The use of coworkers, secretaries, rough drafts, and revisions suggests that a NT letter was likely worked and reworked before being dispatched.

The Letter of James has been hailed as possibly the earliest, most Jewish, and most practical of all NT letters. James 3:13 aptly communicates the book’s theme: “Who is wise and understanding among you? Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in humility that comes from wisdom.” The terms “wise” and “wisdom” occur five times in the book (1:5; 3:13 [2×], 15, 17). Hence, the author instructed his readers on leading a life of faith that was characterized by a wisdom expressed through speech and actions (2:12).

Literary Features

The author’s employment of picturesque, concrete language has close affinities to OT wisdom literature and reflects Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount.

James 1:2 – Matthew 5:10-12

James 1:4 – Matthew 5:48

James 1:5; 5:15 – Matthew 7:7-12

James 1:9 – Matthew 5:3

James 1:20 – Matthew 5:22

James 1:22 – Matthew 7:21

James 2:5 – Matthew 5:3

James 2:13 – Matthew 5:7; 6:14-15

James 2:14-16 – Matthew 7:21-23

James 3:12 – Matthew 7:16

James 3:17-18 – Matthew 5:9

James 4:4 – Matthew 6:24

James 4:10 – Matthew 5:3-4

James 4:11 – Matthew 7:1-2

James 5:2 – Matthew 6:19

James 5:10 – Matthew 5:12

James 5:12 – Matthew 5:33-37

Like the OT wisdom literature, the teaching in James has a strongly practical orientation. Although the book contains some lengthier paragraphs, much of it consists of sequential admonishments and ethical maxims that in some cases are only loosely related to one another. The sentences generally are short and direct. There are fifty-four verbs in the imperative. Connection between sentences is sometimes created through repeated words. Yet the overall topic of practical faith and wisdom links these exhortations together.

Background and Occasion

After the death of Stephen, many disciples were scattered into the regions of Judea and Samaria (Acts 7:54–8:3). In Acts 11:19 the narrator notes, “Now those who had been scattered by the persecution that broke out when Stephen was killed traveled as far as Phoenicia, Cyprus and Antioch, spreading the word only among Jews.” James may have written this letter to instruct and comfort those scattered believers, as he addressed his letter to “the twelve tribes dispersed abroad” (1:1 NET). These Jewish Christians no longer had direct contact with the apostles in Jerusalem and needed to be instructed and admonished in their tribulations. Apparently, the rich were taking advantage of them (2:6; 5:1–6), and their trials had led to worldliness, rash words, and strained relationships (2:1; 4:1, 11; 5:9). In view of persecution, some may have been tempted to hide their faith (5:10–11). James exhorted them to demonstrate a lifestyle that would reflect their faith.

James’s View on Works and Salvation

Some readers of this letter have observed a seeming contradiction between James’s call for good works and Paul’s insistence on salvation by grace through faith apart from works (cf. James 2:14–26 with Eph. 2:8–10). The discussion is complicated by James’s argument that a faith without works cannot “save” and by his observation that Abraham was justified by what he did, not by faith alone (James 2:14, 20–24). Paul, by contrast, maintains that Abraham was justified exclusively by faith (Rom. 4:1–3).

Referring rhetorically to people who claim to have faith but have no deeds, James asks, “Can such faith save them?” (2:14). That is, can the kind of faith that results in no works be genuine? The expected answer is no. The kind of faith that produces no works cannot be genuine faith; rather, it is “dead” (2:17, 26) and “useless” (2:20). This kind of faith is “by itself,” meaning that it produces no lasting fruit (2:17). James’s point is that genuine faith will produce good works in the believer’s life. By way of contrast, a mere profession is not necessarily an indication of genuine faith. Even demons believe in God, but they are not saved; the kind of belief that they exhibit is merely an acknowledgment of God’s existence (2:19).

According to James, Abraham was justified not in the sense of first being declared righteous, but rather in the sense that his faith was demonstrated as genuine when he offered up Isaac (2:21). Paul, on the other hand, argues that salvation is obtained not through works but rather by faith alone. He quotes Gen. 15:6 to show that Abraham trusted God and was declared righteous several years before he offered up Isaac (Rom. 4:3).

According to Paul, Abraham was justified (declared righteous) before God when he believed God’s promise (Gen. 15:6), but for James, he was justified in the sense of giving observable proof of salvation through his obedience to God. Whereas Paul refers to the point and means of positional salvation, James refers to a subsequent event that confirmed that Abraham was justified.

I. Faith

A. Paul (Romans 4:1-3):

1. Is personal trust in God

2. Justifies one before God

3. Is not proof of Salvation

B. James (2:14-26)

1. Is a mere claim if there is no resulting fruit

II. Works

A. Paul (Romans 4:1-3):

1. Precede salvation

2. Attempt to merit salvation

3. Cannot justify before God

B. James (2:14-26)

1. Follow conversion

2. Are evidence of salvation

3. Confirm one’s salvation

It is important to keep in mind that each author wrote with a different purpose. Paul wrote against Judaizers, who taught that a man had to be circumcised and keep the OT law to be saved. James was warning against a mere profession of faith that leads to self-deception (1:22). John Calvin correctly expressed the biblical teaching that faith alone saves, but that kind of faith does not remain alone; it produces good works (cf. Rom. 3:21–6:14; Eph. 2:8–10; Titus 2:11–14; 3:4–7).

Authorship

The author identifies himself as “James, a servant of God and of the Lord Jesus Christ” (1:1). The NT mentions five persons having the name “James”: (1) James the son of Zebedee and the brother of John (Matt. 4:21); (2) James the son of Alphaeus (Matt. 10:3); (3) James “the younger” (Mark 15:40); (4) James the father of the apostle Judas (not Judas Iscariot; Luke 6:16); and (5) James the brother of Jesus (Matt. 13:55; Mark 6:3; Gal. 1:19).

James the brother of John was executed by Herod Agrippa I, who died in AD 44 (Acts 12:2). Since the Letter of James probably was written after this date, the brother of John could not have written it. Neither James the son of Alphaeus, James the younger, nor James the father of Judas was as prominent in the early church as the writer of this letter, who simply identified himself and assumed that his readers would know him (1:1). James the son of Alphaeus is mentioned for the last time in Acts 1:13, and nothing is known of James the father of Judas apart from the listing of his name in Luke 6:15; Acts 1:13. (It is uncertain whether James the younger should be identified with one of the other four or is a separate figure.) Thus, it is unlikely that any of them wrote the book. James the brother of Jesus is most likely the author of this letter.

James the Brother of the Lord

At the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, James, as well as his brothers Joses (Joseph), Judas, and Simon, did not believe that Jesus was the Messiah (Matt. 13:55; Mark 6:3; John 7:5). However, they came to believe in him after the resurrection (Acts 1:14; 1 Cor. 15:7). Paul called James, along with Peter and John, the “pillars” of the church (Gal. 2:9). James does not claim to be an apostle in this letter; however, he is identified as one in Gal. 1:19. But there the term “apostle” probably refers to a group of leading disciples outside the Twelve (cf. Acts 14:4, 14; 1 Cor. 15:7; Gal. 2:9). Since the author of this letter employed many imperatives, his readers clearly accepted his authority. James, the brother of Jesus, who also became a key leader of the church in Jerusalem, possessed such authority (Acts 12:17; 15:13, 19; 21:18; Gal. 1:18–19; 2:9).

Date

Some scholars hold that the Letter of James was written around AD 62, while others argue that James wrote this letter sometime in AD 45–50. Those who favor the earlier dates point out that the Jewish character of this letter fits with this period when the church was mainly Jewish, based on the following criteria: (1) There is no mention of Gentile Christians in the letter. (2) The author does not refer to the teachings of the Judaizers. If the letter had been written at a later date, we would expect the author to address the issue of circumcision among Christians. (3) The mention of “teachers” (3:1) and “elders” (5:14) as the leaders in the church reflects the structure of the primitive church. (4) The word “meeting” in 2:2 is the same Greek word as for “synagogue.” It describes the gathering place of the early church. This implies a time when the congregation was still primarily Jewish (Acts 1–7).

Outline

I. Introduction (1:1)

II. The Wise Christian Is Patient in Trials (1:2–18)

A. How the Christian should face trials (1:2–12)

B. The source of temptations (1:13–18)

III. The Wise Christian Is a Practical Doer of the Word (1:19–2:26)

A. Hearers and doers of the word (1:19–25)

B. True religion (1:26–27)

C. Prejudice in the church (2:1–13)

D. Faith that works (2:14–26)

IV. The Wise Christian Masters the Tongue (3:1–18)

A. The power of the tongue (3:1–12)

B. The wisdom from above (3:13–18)

V. The Wise Christian Seeks Peace in Relationships (4:1–17)

A. The cause of quarrels (4:1–3)

B. Warning against worldliness (4:4–10)

C. Warning against slander (4:11–12)

D. Warning against boasting and self-sufficiency (4:13–17)

VI. The Wise Christian Is Patient and Prays When Facing Difficulties (5:1–20)

A. Warning to the rich (5:1–6)

B. Exhortation to patience (5:7–12)

C. The power of prayer (5:13–18)

D. The benefit of correcting those in error (5:19–20)

Galatians is often understood as the great letter teaching justification by faith in Christ alone. Paul inveighs against false teachers who teach Christians to supplement the work of Christ with their own keeping of the law as part of earning salvation.

This traditional reading has been powerful and edifying. However, setting Galatians within a plausible ancient social setting reveals further powerful functions of the letter. Galatians turns out to be more than a container delivering the timeless and vital doctrine of salvation by believing and not by doing. The approach to Galatians in this article seeks to establish plausible ancient social settings primarily through exploring a constellation of ancient Mediterranean cultural codes. This contextual orienting helps modern readers appreciate how issues that seem to us bizarre or insignificant might have been issues of life and death to people in different contexts.

Setting and Message

Cultural context. By the time of Galatians (mid-first century AD), a relatively common moral sensitivity existed among the diverse spectrum of Greco-Roman (pagan, Jewish, and Christian) intellectuals: self-mastery (enkrateia). The ideal person led a life of virtue by mastering powerful irrational passions, which led to excessive, weak, irrational, and evil behavior. Although people differed on the means to self-mastery, this general ideal defined broader notions about the successful life. Elites represented the ideal leader as one defined by self-mastery. This qualified such a person to rule others whose capacity for and attainment of self-mastery were inferior, to rule those who cannot even rule themselves. Authority figures projected this characteristic and perpetuated social worlds in which prestige and authority were bound up with the ideal of self-mastery. Many average people also made self-mastery an ideal, whether striving for it in their own lives or allocating authority and prestige to those perceived to have attained it. Various Jewish teachers presented Judaism, especially keeping its laws and studying its sacred writings, as the premier path to self-mastery and thus a happy life. Some pagans also conceived of Judaism, especially some of its laws, along these lines.

Certain Jewish views of Gentiles constitute another important cultural code. Many Jews read the OT as depicting the following concerning Gentiles: They were separated from Israel’s God and his promises for his people, the Jews (Rom. 9:4–5; Eph. 2:11–13; 1 Pet. 2:10). They stood under God’s condemnation, especially because they were idolaters controlled by their passions and sin, lacking self-mastery and the ability to live rightly (Rom. 1:18–32; Eph. 4:17–19; 1 Thess. 4:5; 1 Pet. 1:14, 18). Jews, on the other hand, were by definition God’s special people, whom he had chosen over other nations (Deut. 7:6–8; 10:15; 26:18–19). He had watched over them and would ultimately rescue them. Gentiles would experience covenant blessing in and through Israel if they functionally became Jews by keeping the law, including the parts we understand as ceremonial-ritual law. The law was that special life-giving and regulating aspect of the covenant that God had revealed to Israel, which defined Jews as Jews (Lev. 18:1–5; 20:22–26; Deut. 4:1–8, 32–40; 6:24–25; 8:1–6; 10:12–11:32; 30:11–20; Josh. 1:7–9; Neh. 9:29; Pss. 119; 147:19–20; Ezek. 20:9–13, 21). Such law/Israel-centered conditions for Gentiles relate to a broader OT understanding: God had planned to restore the world through Israel, the locus of his saving activity. God would bless the nations in Abraham’s descendants, Israel (Gen. 12:1–3; 17:4–6; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14). Various passages depict this happening as the nations were subjected to Israel, came to Israel, served Israel, presented Israel with their own wealth and possessions, and/or feared Israel’s God (Gen. 49:8–12; Num. 24:9, 17–19; Isa. 11:10–16; 14:2; 45:23; 49:22–23; 51:4–5; 54:3; 55:5; 60:3–16; 61:5–6; 66:12–13, 18–21; Mic. 7:12–17; Zech. 2:11; 8:22–23). Other passages further elucidate the law-defined nature of such Gentile participation in the God of Israel’s salvation (Gen. 17:9–14; Exod. 12:48; Isa. 2:2–5; 56:1–8; Jer. 12:14–17; Mic. 4:1–5; Zech. 14:16–21). God would condemn Gentiles who remain separate from Israel, especially Gentiles who harm Israel. For many Jews around the time of Galatians, salvation for Gentiles thus remained Israel-centered.

Many ancient Jews also construed the world through apocalyptic views of reality. This understanding conceived of the present visible world as characterized by the influence of evil supernatural beings (demons), suffering, and evil. One day God and his angels would completely triumph in the invisible heavenly reality; the events in this reality determine life in the lower visible world. Then the evil age of the present world of suffering would be over. Evil and suffering would be vanquished, God’s people would be rescued, the agents of suffering in the old age would be judged, the Spirit would be poured out, the nations would come to Israel’s God, and the heavenly reality would fully break in and renew the visible world. God’s people, Israel, would experience ultimate salvation, having been rescued from the evil age. The law remained a defining reality in God’s plans to rescue the world in most Jewish apocalyptic scenarios. Experiencing this salvation remained a matter of being part of God’s righteous people, Israel.

Situation of the letter. With these cultural codes in view, the following situation for the letter of Galatians seems plausible. Paul proclaimed to some of the predominantly Gentile population of Galatia the good news (“gospel”) of the God of Israel’s salvation through Jesus the Messiah (Gal. 1:8–9, 11; 4:13). Some accepted this message of faith and devoted themselves to Jesus and the God of Israel (1:2, 9; 3:1–6; 4:14–20). After Paul left, other Christian teachers came to Galatia. They possibly claimed association with the Jerusalem church and, perhaps, with Peter and James. In line with some of the Jewish views of Gentiles discussed above, they taught that the Gentile Christians in Galatia must functionally become Jews and keep the law (for other examples of such early Christian teachers, see Acts 11:1–3; 15:1, 5). These other teachers probably drew on Scriptures and traditions about Abraham to make their arguments. The God of Israel would save his people, “the righteous,” and through them the rest of the world, through the relationship that he had initially established with Abraham (Gen. 12:1–3; 17:4–6; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14). The teachers could easily show from the Scriptures that circumcision and the law defined God’s relationship with Abraham and were always intended to do so (17:9–14; 26:5). They, like most contemporary Jewish writers, thought that obedience to the law (26:5) defined Abraham’s faith toward God (15:6). If the Galatians were to be Abraham’s descendants, they too must keep the law and be circumcised like their new father, Abraham. The teachers could also deploy passages from the Scriptures to the effect that everyone who did not keep the law was cursed (Deut. 27:26; cf. Gal. 3:10), but that everyone who kept the law would live (Lev. 18:5; cf. Gal. 3:12). For these teachers, Jesus the Messiah was part of the final stage in the God of Israel’s law-shaped apocalyptic plan to rescue his people (the Jews) and, through them, the nations.

It seems that the teachers also capitalized on the moral sensitivity of self-mastery and the not uncommon understanding of the Jewish law as an ideal means for attaining it. Thus, they also urged the Galatians to keep the law through representing it as a means to attaining the prestigious moral and social ideal of self-mastery. Furthermore, the Galatians may have thought that the law offered them a concrete guide to life because of its numerous detailed prescriptions. It also provided substantive ways for the Galatians to reinforce their identity in the midst of their villages, especially because it commanded practices that could set them apart. As a result, at least some of the Galatian Christians decided to keep the law, perhaps seeking circumcision. They were persuaded that the God of Israel and Jesus only save those within the Jewish space defined by the law. These Galatians sought to keep the law, looking to its power for self-mastery.

Outline

I. Greeting (1:1–5)

II. The Law-Defined Gospel Is a Different Gospel (1:6–10)

III. Paul’s Gospel Is Straight from God (1:11–24)

IV. The Jerusalem Apostles Recognize Paul’s Law-Free Gospel (2:1–10)

V. Paul and Peter on Whether Gentiles Should Live Like Jews (2:11–21)

VI. Works of the Law or Christ’s Faithfulness? (3:1–5)

VII. Paul Addresses the Situation in Galatia (3:6–4:31)

A. Scriptural arguments to answer Paul’s question (3:6–14)

B. Incorporation into Christ means incorporation into Abraham (3:15–29)

C. Heirs versus slaves (4:1–11)

D. The Galatians’ past experience with Paul and the gospel (4:12–20)

E. Heirs versus slaves: Sarah and Hagar (4:21–31)

VIII. Summary and Restatement of Paul’s Argument (5:1–12)

IX. The Faithfulness of Christ and Communal Living (5:13–6:10)

A. Freedom in Christ (5:13–15)

B. Self-mastery (5:16–24)

C. The way of the Spirit and Christ’s cruciform faithfulness (5:25–6:10)

X. Conclusion and Summary (6:11–18)

Structure and Contents

I. Greeting (1:1–5). When Paul hears of this situation among the Galatian churches, he writes them a frustrated letter. He commences by stressing how Jesus, through giving himself for our sins, is God’s means for delivering us from the present evil age (1:3–4). As Paul will make clear, Jesus and the law represent mutually exclusive means of deliverance (3:21–22). In contrast to most Jews, Paul will thus shockingly dissociate the law from the God of Israel’s apocalyptic deliverance.

II. The law-defined gospel is a different gospel (1:6–10). Paul continues by making clear his point of view: despite what the other teachers say, their law-defined gospel is in fact a damnable “different gospel” (1:6–10).

III. Paul’s gospel is straight from God (1:11–24). While the other teachers may claim that their gospel comes from the authoritative Jerusalem church, Paul explains that his gospel comes straight from God and not from other men (1:11–24).

IV. The Jerusalem apostles recognize Paul’s law-free gospel (2:1–10). However, when he had met with the Jerusalem apostles, they had recognized his law-free gospel (1:18–2:10). Indeed, they had not forced Titus to be circumcised (2:3). Also, 1:18–2:10 represents Paul as an embodiment of the radical transforming power of the gospel. Whereas Paul previously had advanced far and zealously “in Judaism,” persecuting the church, now he steadfastly serves the church and boldly stands against Jews who zealously seek to impose the law (“Judaism”) on Gentile Christians.

V. Paul and Peter on whether Gentiles should live like Jews (2:11–21). Paul then narrates an account of an incident that speaks directly to the Galatian situation (2:11–21). Previously in Antioch Peter had acted so as to imply that Gentiles would have to live like Jews (e.g., keep the law) in order to truly be unified with God’s people (2:11–14). Paul, however, has rebuked Peter (2:14). Paul continues with a speech about how Gentiles are made righteous (“justified”) not within the space demarcated by the “works of the law,” but rather within the faithfulness of Jesus the Messiah (2:15–16). The works of the law, or the duties commanded by the law, do not define those who are “righteous”—that is, God’s true people who will be saved. Rather, the faithfulness of Christ defines God’s true people, the ones who believe in Jesus. Here Paul for the first time explicitly dissociates the law from the God of Israel’s apocalyptic salvation in Jesus (the) Christ. The law, which defines Gentiles as “sinners,” has been torn down in Christ’s crucifixion (2:17–18). Paul then presents himself as an embodiment of God’s saving work in Christ. In being crucified with Christ, he has died to the law. Paul no longer lives, but now Christ lives in him. The faithfulness of Christ, who loves him and has given himself for him, now defines Paul’s life, not the law (2:19–20). From a more traditional Jewish perspective, Paul has undermined God’s grace because he has marginalized the law, the premier means of grace and life that God has given to his people. In fact, however, the law is utterly opposed to Christ’s faithful saving death, which is the true means of God’s ultimate saving and gracious actions toward his people (2:21).

This understanding of 2:11–21 revolves around how Paul considers his entire discussion of justification, the faithfulness of Christ, and the words of the law to be dealing with the issue of whether Gentiles should be forced to live like Jews (2:14). This might seem surprising to us. Does this not reduce Paul’s discussion of the great doctrine of justification to dealing merely with social and identity issues? Within the logic of Jewish apocalyptic thought, however, issues of the identity of God’s people and what defines them are by definition ultimate salvation issues, not merely social issues. The God of Israel will rescue only his true people. Thus questions of who really constitutes his true people and how they are defined are paramount, life-and-death, salvation issues. Paul never abandons Jewish apocalyptic salvation logic; he simply redefines it around Christ and not the law.

This reading understands the phrase pistis Christou as “the faithfulness of Christ,” a shorthand reference to Jesus’ faithful saving death on the cross. Traditionally people translate the phrase as “faith in Christ.” In line with much recent scholarship, however, this discussion understands the phrase differently, while still recognizing that Paul considers belief in Christ to be of paramount importance: “so we also have believed in Christ Jesus in order to be justified by the faithfulness of Christ and not by the works of the law” (2:16 [all translations are the author’s]).

VI. Works of the law or Christ’s faithfulness? (3:1–5). So far, Paul has not addressed the powerful scriptural arguments and appeals to the law as a means to self-mastery through which the opposing teachers have gained influence. As becomes clear from the rest of the letter, Paul does not anchor his counterarguments ultimately in interpretations of the Jewish Scriptures, possibly because the scriptural arguments of the opposing teachers would have more cogency. Again, they draw on understandings about Gentiles that they can easily ground in the God of Israel’s sacred writings. Paul instead appeals directly to how the Galatians have experienced salvation initially. Have they received and experienced the workings of the Spirit “out of/from the works of the law, or from the message of (Christ’s) faithfulness” (3:1–5)? Paul, of course, knows that the answer is “from the message of Christ’s faithfulness” (often translated as “hearing with faith”) apart from the works of the law. Paul thus plays a trump card that undercuts the opposing teachers. The Galatians have received the Spirit, a classic end-time blessing for the God of Israel’s people, apart from the law. Thus, in Christ, God’s people clearly cannot be defined by the law (see also Acts 10:44–11:18; 15:6–11). The law-defined gospel of the opposing teachers simply cannot be right, since the Galatians have received the Spirit and experienced salvation apart from the law. One cannot overstate the importance of this obvious argument from the Galatians’ experience for Paul. This settles the entire issue within the logic of his letter. All of Paul’s following arguments using the Jewish Scriptures presuppose that his readings of them, depicting Gentile participation in the God of Israel’s people apart from the law, must be correct, and that the opposing teachers’ arguments from Scripture also must be wrong.

VII. Paul addresses the situation in Galatia (3:6–4:31). For the rest of 3:6–4:31, Paul continues to address the situation in Galatia within the cultural codes and kinds of concerns sketched above. In 3:6–13 Paul launches into a densely packed excursus of scriptural arguments to set up an answer to his rhetorical question “Does he who supplies the Spirit to you and works miracles among you do so out of/from the works of the law, or from the message of (Christ’s) faithfulness?” (3:5). He sets up the answer to his question, which comes in 3:14, by focusing on the nature of the Galatians’ Abra-hamic sonship—that is, the nature of their identity as the God of Israel’s special people. Paul argues that Christ’s faithfulness, and not the law, defines their Abrahamic sonship. Within this excursus it seems plausible that Paul draws upon and undercuts texts that the opposing teachers have used (Lev. 18:5; Deut. 27:26). In 3:15–29 Paul elucidates how the Galatians’ incorporation into Christ through his faithfulness can actually mean that they are incorporated into Abraham, become his descendants, and thus become “heirs according to promise” (3:29).

In 4:1–7 Paul restates parts of his preceding discussion in a different way, introducing the language of slavery. In 4:12–20 Paul returns to reminding the Galatians of their past experience with himself and the gospel. Paul has embodied Christ to them, and they to him. He has brought them Christ in his weakness, and they have accepted him as such. Their turn to the opposing teachers marks a departure from how they first received Paul.

VIII. Summary and restatement of Paul’s argument (5:1–12). In 5:2–6 Paul quickly summarizes the substance of his arguments thus far, while in 5:7–12 he resummarizes the situation.

IX. The faithfulness of Christ and communal living (5:13–6:10). In 5:13–6:10 Paul finally depicts the positive content of the faithfulness of Christ for the Galatians. This section, in which Paul focuses on how the Galatians live communally, has been his driving focus all along. Not only must he offer something in place of the law for self-mastery in order to wrench the Galatians from the influence of the opposing teachers, but also Paul considers it absolutely necessary for the Galatians to live together in ways embodying Christ’s other-oriented, cross-shaped faithfulness (2:19–20; 4:19; 5:13–6:10). Paul does not view the law simply as a neutral, ineffectual means to self-mastery; rather, he thinks that the law will positively work death, slavery, and irrational passions, the things that would bar the Galatians from inheriting the kingdom of God (5:22). Thus, 5:13–6:10 is the most important part of the letter for Paul. All his earlier arguments serve his purposes here.

Paul begins his positive sketch of the faithfulness of Christ in 5:13–15 by talking about their freedom in Christ (5:1). This freedom from the law by no means implies freedom from the obligation to live faithfully. In fact, this freedom paradoxically means freedom for the Galatians to become slaves to one another through love (5:13). This is what Paul means by the cross-shaped faithfulness of Christ defining God’s people. This is what Paul means when he writes that he longs for Christ to be formed in them (4:19). Christ’s faithfulness redefines the law itself, such that becoming slaves to one another through love by loving your neighbor fulfills the whole law (5:14; 6:2). In 5:13–14 Paul thus surprisingly informs the Galatians that freedom in Christ means other-oriented, love-driven (cf. 5:6), cross-shaped freedom. Cross-shaped faithfulness leading them to become slaves to one another through love is the only antidote to their biting and devouring one another (5:15), classic Greco-Roman language for describing the control of irrational passions.

Paul gets more specific in 5:16–25, explicitly moving his discussion within the discourse of self-mastery. His earlier arguments dissociating the Spirit and Christ’s faithfulness from the law inform this passage, as does Paul’s implicit association of the law and the opposing teachers with “flesh” in 4:29. Only by the Spirit can the Galatians overcome the desires of the flesh (5:16–17). In 5:18–19 Paul makes clear his association of the law with the desires of the flesh, especially in 5:19, where he speaks of the “works of the flesh,” an obvious play on his frequent phrase “works of the law.” The works of the flesh in 5:19–21 read like a catalog of the vices with which broader Greco-Roman moral discourse characterizes people who lack self-mastery. People who engage in such vices, who lack the struggle to self-mastery empowered by the Spirit, “will not inherit the kingdom of God” (5:21). Paul then spells out the positive content of the faithfulness of Christ for the Galatians in terms of the fruit of the Spirit. He concludes this list of virtues, which characterize people who have the Spirit, with enkrateia, “self-mastery” (5:22–23). He continues, “And the ones who belong to Christ have crucified the flesh, with its passions and desires” (5:24). Paul’s language here seems reminiscent of his earlier self-representation as one who has been crucified with Christ (2:19–20; see also 6:14–15). The Spirit, who belongs exclusively to those who are God’s children through Christ’s faithfulness and not the law (3:14; 4:4–6), empowers the Galatians to attain self-mastery. Not only does the law fail to help them attain self-mastery, but also, as part of the old “evil” age, it works with the desires of the flesh to produce everything contrary to self-mastery, everything that disqualifies people from inheriting the kingdom of God.

Paul continues in 5:25–6:10, stressing the way of the Spirit and Christ’s cruciform faithfulness. In 6:6–10 Paul underlines the ultimate importance of the Galatians living in accordance with the Spirit and not the flesh. For Paul, this does not imply that salvation and self-mastery result from the Galatians’ own autonomous effort. That would miss the point entirely. Only Christ’s faithfulness and the Spirit can bring about the cross-shaped lives and self-mastery of which Paul speaks. Apart from Christ’s faithfulness and the Spirit, the Galatians would remain people mastered by their passions and desires and cut off from God’s salvation and blessings, since they would not be Abraham’s descendants in Christ. At the same time, Paul writes the letter with such passion because he is convinced that where Christ’s other-oriented, cross-shaped faithfulness and self-mastery do not characterize people, God’s saving blessings are absent as well. Thus Paul “is again in the anguish of childbirth” until Christ is formed in them (4:19).

X. Conclusion and summary (6:11–18). Paul concludes in 6:11–18, summarizing most of his main points. The law and circumcision now count for nothing; only faithfulness working through love and new creation in Christ count for anything (5:6; 6:15).

For Paul in Galatians, the other-oriented, cross-shaped faithfulness of Christ offers a more concrete communal identity and practical way to life than the law ever could. The faithfulness of Christ and Spirit define the Galatians as a people of the new creation. Justification in Galatians involves more than the traditional doctrine. It involves the unification associated with the fruit of the Spirit, not the division and strife of the works of the flesh/law. It relates to and establishes the conditions for the radical and tangible other-oriented and cross-shaped communal faithfulness (of Christ) that must define God’s people.

The Letter to the Hebrews and the Letter to the Romans constitute the two great pillars of theology in the NT. Hebrews brings a high Christology and increases Christian understanding of Christ’s role as priest and pioneer of faith. From this book, deductions can be made regarding the early church’s understanding of OT interpretation and its view of typology.

Hebrews ends like a letter, but it does not begin like one. In particular, it lacks the names of the writer and the recipients. From the content, though, it is evident that this work is meant for a certain audience, familiar with the author. The author shows a loving pastoral concern for his readers, teaching them, exhorting them, and rebuking them when necessary. He gives them models of faith to encourage them and instructs them to encourage one another. The author describes the work as “my word of exhortation” (13:22). The book is often identified as a sermon.

Author

The letter is, strictly speaking, anonymous. No author is mentioned, and few clues as to his identity exist. He is known by his readers (13:19) and has a pastor’s heart for them (6:9). He and his audience are second-generation Christians; that is, they did not hear Jesus during his ministry but rather are dependent upon those who did (2:3). He is a companion of Timothy (13:23) and thus possibly in the circle of Paul. The letter shows that he has great organizational and rhetorical skills; he is intelligent and well educated; his writing indicates that he is likely from a Greek-speaking culture and is a converted Hellenistic Jew familiar with the Greek version of the OT. And he is a creative theologian with perspectives found nowhere else in the NT.

Early church tradition offers no name for the author. The letter’s later attribution to the apostle Paul probably granted it the authority necessary for canonicity, though problems with that view were readily apparent. The Greek is unlike Paul’s, and the rhetoric and theology are much different as well. The themes present in Hebrews are of only tangential interest to Paul. All the Pauline Epistles bear his self-identification, because he felt that his status as an apostle added authority to his words. And Paul did not consider himself to be a second-generation Christian, since he had seen the Lord himself (Gal. 1:12). Although the Catholic and Eastern Churches continue to ascribe the work to Paul, the Protestant Church has almost completely abandoned that idea.

In the absence of a known author, almost every name in the NT has been suggested, including Apollos, Barnabas, Luke, and Silas. While each name has merits and problems, too little is known to prove or disprove any prospective author. Yet, even without Pauline or other known authorship, the book maintains its authority.

Audience

The original readers almost certainly were a house church, part of a network of churches in an urban setting, likely either Jerusalem or Rome, with Rome being slightly preferred. The recipients were a specific group rather than the church at large as in the General Epistles (James, 1–2 Peter, 1–3 John, Jude); the author knew their circumstances (Heb. 10:32; 12:4; 13:17, 24). They were Jewish Christians who, possibly because of persecution, were in danger of drifting back into the Judaism they had left (see 10:32–39). The letter was written probably in the late 60s, as evidenced by the fact that there is no mention of the temple’s destruction, which occurred in AD 70. Given the reasoning of the author, it is quite hard to imagine that he would not mention this event were he writing after that date.

Themes

Hebrews presents two main themes. The first is faith and perseverance, especially in the face of persecution. Jesus is the pioneer of salvation through suffering (2:10) and can help those being tempted (2:18); he has been faithful to the one who appointed him (3:2) as the Son over God’s house (3:6), which is Christians who hold firmly to their confidence and hope (3:6). Christians share in Christ, if they hold their convictions firmly to the end (3:14). This is possible because Jesus is the great high priest, having ascended into heaven (4:14). A person falling away, not holding firmly, cannot be brought back again to repentance (6:4–6). Jesus has sacrificed himself once for all (7:27). Christians must hold unswervingly to the hope they profess, for the one who promised is faithful (10:23). Those who do will be richly rewarded (10:35–36).

Role models of faith are portrayed in chapter 11, the so-called Faith Chapter. The author presents Abel, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, and other OT figures as examples of living by faith. These serve as a “cloud of witnesses,” demanding “perseverance [in] the race marked out” for Christians (12:1). Jesus is the “pioneer and perfecter” of faith, enduring the cross and shame (12:2). Christians should endure hardship as discipline (12:7), which will produce a “harvest of righteousness” (12:11).

The second theme is the superiority of Christ, presented in a series of escalating comparisons between Jesus and every aspect of Judaism. The Son is a superior revelation from God (1:1–2). He is superior to the angels (1:4–14) and even to Moses (3:2–6). The Son’s Melchizedekian priesthood is superior to the Levitical priesthood (7:1–25). The new covenant brought by the Son is superior to the Mosaic covenant (8:6–13); the Son’s sacrifice is superior to the sacrifices offered under the Mosaic law (9:1–10:18).

Theology

The author brings his unique perspective to the work of Christ—his special roles as both high priest and sacrifice. Because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood (7:24), which is not a function of his ancestry but rather is “on the basis of the power of an indestructible life” (7:16). He meets the requirements of a priest, being “holy, blameless, pure, set apart from sinners, exalted above the heavens” (7:26). He is a “priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek” (7:17, quoting Ps. 110:4). Melchizedek is a once-mentioned figure from Gen. 14:18. He was the king of Salem, a “priest of God Most High.” Abraham, and by extension Levi, paid him a tithe and received a blessing from him. Therefore, Melchizedek is superior to Levi, and his priestly order is superior to Levi’s. This priesthood, in fact, replaces the Levitical priesthood because the earlier priesthood could not produce perfection (Heb. 7:11), being “weak and useless” (7:18).

The Levitical priests had offered their sacrifices repeatedly, year after year, first for their own sins, then for those of the people. They had used the blood of bulls and goats to cleanse the tabernacle and accessories, because without the shedding of blood there can be no forgiveness of sin (9:22). There had been many priests, as death claimed each one. The priests, in all their weaknesses, had been appointed by the law. The sanctuary in which they serve is a “copy and shadow” of what is in heaven (8:5).

In contrast to the Levitical high priest, Jesus sits at “the right hand of the throne of the Majesty in heaven” (8:1) and serves in the true tabernacle not made by human hands. He has been appointed not by the law but by the oath of God, which came after the law. He has no need to offer sacrifices day after day; his sacrifice was “once for all” (7:27), coming at the culmination of the ages to do away with sin (9:26). In fact, the repeated nature of the Levitical sacrifices serves as proof of their ineffectiveness. Had they been effective, they would have ceased. But “it is impossible for the blood of bulls and goats to take away sins” (10:4), even when offered in accordance with the law (10:8). The worshipers had been left with the same guilty consciences. Christ had “entered the Most Holy Place once for all by his own blood” and obtained eternal redemption for all believers (9:12), sprinkling their hearts to cleanse them from guilty consciences (10:22)

Because of this, Christ is the mediator of the new covenant, prophesied in Jer. 31:31, which is superior to the Mosaic covenant. The first covenant has been made obsolete and will soon disappear (Heb. 8:13), as the new covenant is “established on better promises” (8:6). The tabernacle had been designed to demonstrate that there was no way into the most holy place for anyone but the high priest. Now, the blood of Jesus has opened a way through the curtain, allowing believers to “draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance of faith” (10:22).

Exhortations

Hebrews consists of theology interspersed with exhortations to the readers to persevere in the face of persecution, not to drift away from their new faith. These hortatory passages also serve as warnings. Because the new covenant is superior to the old one, its violation carries proportional penalties: since every violation of the old covenant had been met with its just punishment, “how shall we escape if we ignore so great a salvation?” (2:3). Believers must encourage one another, so that no one becomes “hardened by sin’s deceitfulness” (3:13). As recipients of new access to God, Christians must hold unswervingly to the hope, because God is faithful. This new access has completely replaced the old; there is no sacrifice remaining to forgive deliberate sinning. As those rejecting the law of Moses had died without mercy, those insulting the Spirit of grace will be punished more severely (10:29). Christians should consider “him who endured such opposition” so as not to “grow weary and lose heart” (12:3).

The author rebukes his readers for being lazy: “We have much to say about this, but it is hard to make it clear to you because you no longer try to understand” (5:11); but he patiently moves on beyond elementary teaching to teaching of Christian maturity (6:1). He warns them sternly that there is no reverse gear: those who have entered the sphere of Christian faith cannot fall away and then reenter at will; apostates would be “crucifying the Son of God all over again” (6:6). But then he softens the rebuke as a pastor: “Even though we speak like this, dear friends, we are convinced of better things in your case— the things that have to do with salvation” (6:9).

The author also shows great interest in the Sabbath rest promised to Moses. Those who had disobeyed were denied the rest (3:18), but the promise of entering his rest still stands (4:1). In fact, the Sabbath rest that remains is superior, or else it would not still be offered (4:8), and Christians must make every effort to enter that rest so that no one will perish (4:11).

Outline

The Letter to the Hebrews is very organized yet difficult to outline, owing to the manner in which the author handles his transitional material. The main theological argument (the superiority of the Son) is presented as a series of overlapping and interlocked comparisons interspersed with pastoral exhortations to perseverance. The connection between sections is often a keyword used in one section and then picked up and expanded in the next.

I. Introduction (1:1–4)

II. The Son Is Superior to the Angels (1:5–14)

III. Warning: Do Not Reject the Word Spoken through God’s Son (2:1–4)

IV. Jesus Is the Perfect Pioneer of Salvation because of His Suffering (2:5–18)

V. The Son Is Superior to Moses (3:1–19)

VI. The Sabbath Rest Is Still Available and Is Superior to the OT Rest (4:1–13)

VII. The Son Is a Superior High Priest (4:14–5:10)

VIII. Rebuke: You Are Still Spiritual Children (5:11–6:3)

IX. Warning: There Is No Return to the Former Covenant (6:4–12)

X. Jesus Completes the Oath God Gave Abraham (6:13–20)

XI. Jesus Is a Priest of Melchizedek’s Order, Superior to Levi’s Priesthood (7:1–25)

XII. The Priestly Function of Jesus Is Superior to That of the OT Priest (7:26–8:6)

XIII. The New Covenant of Jesus Is Superior to the Mosaic Covenant (8:7–13)

XIV. The Tabernacle of the New Covenant Is Superior to the Old (9:1–7)

XV. The Sacrifice of Christ Is Superior to the OT Sacrifices (9:8–10:20)

XVI. Exhortation to Persevere (10:21–39)

XVII. Faith Models (11:1–40)

XVIII. Exhortation to Righteous Living (12:1–13:17)

XIX. Closing Personal Greetings (13:18–25)

The obligations of relationships within ancient societies and between social groups were frequently reinforced by means of oaths, and the practice of oath making (by both God and people) is witnessed to in the pages of the Bible. The name of God was frequently invoked (Judg. 8:19; 2 Kings 2:2), but oaths were not to be made using the names of foreign deities (Ps. 16:4). For this reason, when an oath was broken, God’s name was profaned (Lev. 19:12). To take an oath was to ask God to witness what was promised, and it invited him to act as avenger if the promise was broken (Gen. 31:50; 1 Sam. 12:3). This made oath taking a religious act, and so oaths often were made at sanctuaries and under the supervision of cultic officials (Num. 5:11–31; Judg. 11:11; Hos. 4:15).

The words of an oath were accompanied by various gestures, such as putting a hand “under the thigh” (near the genitals?) (Gen. 24:2; 47:29) or raising the right hand to heaven (Gen. 14:22; Deut. 32:40; Rev. 10:5–6). Daniel 12:7 depicts a particularly solemn oath, involving the raising of both hands. By invoking God’s name, an oath invited God to punish the oath breaker, as in Ruth 1:17: “May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely” (for similar wording, see 1 Sam. 3:17; 14:44; 2 Sam. 3:9). Such a self-maledictory oath may have been accompanied by the gesture of a hand at the throat, signifying the death penalty for infringement. People brought a curse upon themselves if an oath was broken (e.g., Num. 5:22), either for doing what was wrong (Num. 5:22; 1 Sam. 19:6) or for not speaking the truth (e.g., Mark 14:71). Two Hebrew words are used in respect to oaths; the stronger one can actually mean a “curse.” The more common word for swearing may relate to the number seven, due to the ceremonies that could accompany oath making. For example, Abraham set aside seven ewe lambs (Gen. 21:22–31).

In the Bible, God is portrayed as binding himself by oaths, most notably his sworn promises to Abraham (Gen. 22:16–18; 50:24). This fact is used by the author of Hebrews in an argument designed to assure readers that God meant what he said when he made promises to his people (Heb. 6:13–18). The coming of Jesus fulfilled the terms of that oath (Luke 1:73). So too the Davidic covenant was supported by a divine oath (Pss. 89:35, 49; 110:4; 132:11), and this was fulfilled by the enthronement of Christ at his resurrection and ascension (Acts 2:30–33).

Jesus’ teaching on oaths (Matt. 5:33–37) does not necessarily contradict OT legislation (cf. Lev. 19:12; Num. 30:2; Deut. 23:21–23) but rather brings out the true heart of God behind the legislation. Oaths are unnecessary, Jesus said, for those who habitually tell the truth. An emphatic yes or no is all that is needed. The teaching of James 5:12 reflects what is found in Jesus’ teaching on this subject. This may not outlaw all oath taking, and certainly the apostle Paul did not understand there to be a blanket prohibition of oaths, for in his letters he is on record as making oaths (Gal. 1:20; Phil. 1:8).

These church offices are God-given positions of leadership within the early church designed to give it structure and direction. Some of these positions have ongoing application for today; others are important primarily for understanding the historical development of the church.

A definite structure for church leadership is God’s idea. Even though the equality of all believers is a biblical principle (the priesthood of all believers in 1 Pet. 2:5, 9), God has also chosen to give certain spiritual gifts of leadership (Rom. 12:8) or administration (1 Cor. 12:28) to a limited number within the church, not universally to everyone. Paul asks a series of rhetorical questions in 1 Cor. 12:29, “Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles?” where the expected answer in each case clearly is “No, not everyone has every gift.” Believers are also specifically instructed to “obey your leaders and submit to them” (Heb. 13:17 ESV, NRSV, NASB) and to respect those “who care for you in the Lord and who admonish you” (1 Thess. 5:12). God’s plan is clearly that there be specific leaders. At the same time, the NT does not always answer all our questions or spell out every detail in this area of church leadership. The more significant offices in the NT church include the following:

Apostle. Apostles formed the earliest and most important leadership structure. Jesus, early in his ministry, “called his disciples to him and chose twelve of them, whom he also designated apostles” (Luke 6:13). The word “disciple” (mathētēs) means “student” or “learner” and indicates the role of these original twelve during Jesus’ earthly ministry. Following Jesus’ death and resurrection, these same individuals (now minus Judas Iscariot) were typically called “apostles” (apostolos [lit., “sent-out one”), who were then entrusted with Christ’s power and authority as his official representatives. Paul describes the foundational role of this office in Eph. 2:20. Their power and authority were without parallel in the historical development of the church. Some other observations round out our understanding of this office. First, there are occasional (but limited) references to broader circles of apostles in the sense of other people being “sent out” by God for specific ministry. Thus, Barnabas is apparently described as an apostle alongside Paul (Acts 14:14), and James the brother of Jesus is described as an apostle (Gal. 1:19). However, Acts 1:21–22 spells out the usual qualifications for an apostle: “men who have been with us the whole time the Lord Jesus was living among us, beginning from John’s baptism to the time when Jesus was taken up from us.” Thus, the apostleship, especially understood in the strict sense, is limited to original eyewitnesses from among the first generation of believers, and this office has not continued.

Prophet. The office of prophet (prophētēs) is another foundational one at the time of the establishment of the church (Eph. 2:20). Agabus is described as a prophet (Acts 21:10), and Paul assumes that there were prophets in the church in Corinth (1 Cor. 12:29). Although this is a controversial topic, many believe that this office no longer continues today.

Elder/presbyter. The office of elder or presbyter (presbyteros) is one of the most common in the church. This office is based on the model of elders in the Jewish synagogue. Paul and Bar-na-bas appointed elders in every church as early as their first missionary journey (Acts 14:23). James instructs the sick to call on the elders of the church to pray over them (James 5:14). The best job description for elders is 1 Tim. 5:17, where there are two major emphases: first, directing the affairs of the church, and second, preaching and teaching. Elders apparently always functioned in a plurality in Scripture, never as solo leaders.

Overseer/bishop. The office of overseer or bishop (episkopos) is mentioned in Phil. 1:1 as well as in 1 Tim. 3:2; Titus 1:7 in the lists of qualifications. Although by the second or third century the office of overseer/bishop had evolved into a singular office of one overseer presiding over a number of elders, this was not true in the NT, where these two titles apparently were different names for the same office. Several passages indicate this relationship. In Acts 20:17 Paul calls specifically for the “elders” of the church, yet in Acts 20:28 he refers to them as “overseers.” In similar fashion, in Titus 1:5–9 Paul tells Titus to “appoint elders in every town” but then apparently goes on to speak of them as “overseers.” Peter does the same thing in 1 Pet. 5:1–2, where he describes them first as “elders” and then as “overseers.” The key to understanding this relationship is to see that the term “elder” comes from their Jewish heritage and reflects the qualifications for this office (someone who is older and more mature), whereas the term “overseer” comes from a Greek background and refers more to their job description (they are to oversee and take responsibility for leadership).

Deacon. Deacons provide practical, hands-on ministry in the local church. Interestingly, the classic passage on this office, Acts 6:1–6, never uses the actual noun “deacon” (diakonos). Instead, other forms of this word are used: “to wait on tables” (diakoneō [v. 2]) and “the ministry [lit., ‘service’] of the word” (diakonia [v. 4]). This word group is used frequently to refer to nonreligious service, such as Martha’s meal preparation (Luke 10:40) or in reference to a servant or attendant in one of Jesus’ parables (e.g., Matt. 22:13). Originally, the term “deacon” simply meant “servant.” In the development of the NT church, it gradually became a technical term used to refer to a specific office, such as in Paul’s greeting in Phil. 1:1 and in the list of qualifications in 1 Tim. 3:8–13. The standard understanding of the deacons in the NT church structure is that they assisted the elders/overseers in practical ways (probably on the model of the seven men in Acts 6).

Pastor. Pastors, surprisingly, show up only a single time in most English translations, in Eph. 4:11, where Paul describes how Christ “gave . . . pastors and teachers.” “Pastor” (poimēn) means “shepherd,” and although the noun appears in this sense of a church leader only here, the verb “to shepherd” (poimainō) occurs also in Acts 20:28; 1 Pet. 5:2. This shepherding role is associated with the elders/overseers. We see this in Paul’s address to the Ephesian elders in Acts 20, where he calls them “elders” (v. 17) and “overseers” (v. 28) and tells them how they are to “be shepherds of the church of God” (v. 28). Peter does the same thing in 1 Pet. 5:1–2, where he calls them “elders” (v. 1) and then calls them “overseers” and tells them to “be shepherds of God’s flock” (v. 2).

Teacher. Teachers are mentioned among those with various spiritual gifts in 1 Cor. 12:28–29 and are connected with pastors in Eph. 4:11, apparently as a single combined office.

Evangelist. Evangelists are mentioned in the list of specially gifted individuals in Eph. 4:11, in relationship to Philip the evangelist in Acts 21:8, and as part of the job description for Timothy in 2 Tim. 4:5 (“do the work of an evangelist”).

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

Paul’s Life

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

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

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

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

Paul’s Gospel

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

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

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

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

Paul’s Letters

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

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

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

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

Conclusion

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

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

Paul’s Life

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

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

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

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

Paul’s Gospel

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

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

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

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

Paul’s Letters

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

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

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

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

Conclusion

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

The obligations of relationships within ancient societies and between social groups were frequently reinforced by means of oaths, and the practice of oath making (by both God and people) is witnessed to in the pages of the Bible. The name of God was frequently invoked (Judg. 8:19; 2 Kings 2:2), but oaths were not to be made using the names of foreign deities (Ps. 16:4). For this reason, when an oath was broken, God’s name was profaned (Lev. 19:12). To take an oath was to ask God to witness what was promised, and it invited him to act as avenger if the promise was broken (Gen. 31:50; 1 Sam. 12:3). This made oath taking a religious act, and so oaths often were made at sanctuaries and under the supervision of cultic officials (Num. 5:11–31; Judg. 11:11; Hos. 4:15).

The words of an oath were accompanied by various gestures, such as putting a hand “under the thigh” (near the genitals?) (Gen. 24:2; 47:29) or raising the right hand to heaven (Gen. 14:22; Deut. 32:40; Rev. 10:5–6). Daniel 12:7 depicts a particularly solemn oath, involving the raising of both hands. By invoking God’s name, an oath invited God to punish the oath breaker, as in Ruth 1:17: “May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely” (for similar wording, see 1 Sam. 3:17; 14:44; 2 Sam. 3:9). Such a self-maledictory oath may have been accompanied by the gesture of a hand at the throat, signifying the death penalty for infringement. People brought a curse upon themselves if an oath was broken (e.g., Num. 5:22), either for doing what was wrong (Num. 5:22; 1 Sam. 19:6) or for not speaking the truth (e.g., Mark 14:71). Two Hebrew words are used in respect to oaths; the stronger one can actually mean a “curse.” The more common word for swearing may relate to the number seven, due to the ceremonies that could accompany oath making. For example, Abraham set aside seven ewe lambs (Gen. 21:22–31).

In the Bible, God is portrayed as binding himself by oaths, most notably his sworn promises to Abraham (Gen. 22:16–18; 50:24). This fact is used by the author of Hebrews in an argument designed to assure readers that God meant what he said when he made promises to his people (Heb. 6:13–18). The coming of Jesus fulfilled the terms of that oath (Luke 1:73). So too the Davidic covenant was supported by a divine oath (Pss. 89:35, 49; 110:4; 132:11), and this was fulfilled by the enthronement of Christ at his resurrection and ascension (Acts 2:30–33).

Jesus’ teaching on oaths (Matt. 5:33–37) does not necessarily contradict OT legislation (cf. Lev. 19:12; Num. 30:2; Deut. 23:21–23) but rather brings out the true heart of God behind the legislation. Oaths are unnecessary, Jesus said, for those who habitually tell the truth. An emphatic yes or no is all that is needed. The teaching of James 5:12 reflects what is found in Jesus’ teaching on this subject. This may not outlaw all oath taking, and certainly the apostle Paul did not understand there to be a blanket prohibition of oaths, for in his letters he is on record as making oaths (Gal. 1:20; Phil. 1:8).

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).